#and and thinking that it means they will survive this together

[alex-procrastinates]

pls click see more i spent like an hour writing these tags

This links to a wheel with nearly a hundred fic tropes for plots, settings, and more. Spin it twice.

This could also work with art inspiration, but the buttons only allow for so many characters on them. And please do ramble in the tags! I'm going to have no idea what most of you are talking about, and it's going to be great.

[yutarot]

cozy. n.jm

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ childhood bff!jaemin, snowboarding au, fwb, sfw

synopsis. you and jaemin have been inseparable since you were children. when you and a few of your friends go on your annual mountain ski trip, the air grows tense when they find out that you and jaemin have been sleeping together. so what happens when an overnight snowstorm extends your trip, bringing a sudden change of plans and a very unlikely guest to your vacation: jaemins crush. will your friendship survive within the cold presence of snow or will it melt away once the sun rises.

wc: 6.8k

warnings. implied sex, suggestive, language, jaemin sucks, miscommunication (sorry), yn is wayy too nice in this

notes — ty to the anon who gave me this idea hehe i immeeediately thought of jaemin so i had to write it. i hope u enjoy this it was fun to write (also ended up being way longer than i expected butttt oh well)

the trip started 4 days ago. 

you always loved your winter ski trips. you loved the way the snow glistened under the sun, illuminating the sky line in a crisp peach orange. you loved the way you could become carefree, no worries of college or having to pick up extra shifts at the cafe. it was always perfect, a spirited culmination of a frosty vacation. 

like usual, you unpacked at lightning speed, occupying the room directly between jaemin and jisung and opposite chenle. as kids, you and mark used to argue over who got the room that you stay in, it being the only room in the cabin with a double bed, but after many years of relentless fighting, you always managed to beat him.

the five of you have been friends since before you could remember, constant pranks and silliness as kids soon became reliability and comfort as you grow into your late teens. but now that you all attend college together, you’re closer than ever.

admittedly, you’ve always been closer to jaemin than the rest, your childhood homes being next to each other, serving as a reason for you to play out in the street each evening after school. even as you entered high school and eventually college, you stayed close, despite jaemin’s tendencies to sleep around with girls and eventually ghost them soon after.

you would be mad at jaemin’s exploits, but you can’t exactly say that being mad at someone’s past actions is entirely justifiable, especially since his playboy behaviour has recently become less frequent.

the air in the cabin is surprisingly warm, a crisp layer of frost encasing the windows and blocking the breeze of snow as it falls upon the mountain that the cabin rests between. the sky, once blue, is now an iridescent hue of orange, reflecting off the snow on the ground and pulsing through the window and onto the wooden walls around you, making them glow. it is an utterly beautiful place, and you thank chenle’s parents for letting you stay here each winter unsupervised.

as you walk through the walkway and into the main room, you spot chenle upon the sofa, browsing the old vintage tv for any channels that don’t bore him profusely. mark and jaemin are playing a game of chess on the floor, resting themselves upon fluffy white cushions and muttering snarky comments to each other under their breaths. noticing your presence, chenle clears his throat, causing mark to look up at you, and eventually, jaemin to spin his body round in your direction.

“i’m bored.” you say, “that tv looks way too old to function and i don’t know how to play chess.” 

chenle speaks first, “well, i mean, maybe if you actually spend some time with us, you might have some fun.”

“sounds like a blast.” you say sarcastically, “i just think we should go out and do something in the snow instead of just being all cooped up in here for the third day in a row.”

“it’s too cold.” jaemin utters, “usually it’s not this bad.”

“and? just put on an extra layer.” you reply, looking to mark for help.

sighing, mark speaks up to agree with you, and with his help, you eventually manage to convince chenle and jaemin to go and wake up jisung, before layering up and grabbing your snowboards from the shed behind the cabin.

as you all walk across the mountain to the ski area, occasionally partaking in a small snowball fight on the way, you hurl yourselves onto the ski lifts.

you sit in between jaemin and mark, ignoring mark’s teasing as you struggle to get yourself seated.

once the lift begins to climb, you feel an immediate sense of calm. you’ve always enjoyed these trips, a moment of relaxation away from home, all with your favourite people. it is true that you wish you could bring your girl friends along, but they all hate the boys with a passion for multiple, various (and valid) reasons, and so, with their permission, you go without them.

lost in your own thoughts, you don’t notice as you suddenly begin to slip from the ski lift, the bar doing absolutely nothing to keep you in place.

“yn?”, you hear jaemin’s voice beside you, a weird sense of distress lining his voice as he quickly grabs a hold of your arm, attempting to lift you back onto the seat.

but it’s no use, the snowboard beneath you weighs you down and you slip from his grasp.

“mark, she’s slipping.” jaemin urges the other boy beside you.

“shit.”

they both try to bring you up, but as you get higher and higher to the top of the slope, the ground begins to find your feet, pulling you down with it.

you stumble before landing upside down into the snow, luckily not sliding anywhere, but unfortunately feeling a sudden frosty chill as piles and piles of snow seep into your clothing and down your back.

noticing your discomfort, jaemin bends down, lifting your face to his and, with a gentle smile, he brushes your snow-covered hair from your face.

“it’s… everywhere.” you shiver.

“everywhere?” jaemin asks.

you roll your eyes. “not the time for jokes.”

it takes you a while to notice mark standing behind jaemin, but when you do, you tell them both to continue on without you and that you’ll find your own way back to the cabin to change your clothes.

nodding after making sure that you’re okay, mark leaves to snowboard down the slope, leaving you and jaemin as you sit, still shaking, covered in ice and snow.

“i’m gonna-“ you say, getting up.

jaemin interrupts. “let me help you.”

“i don’t need help.” you reply.

there is a moment of silence before jaemin speaks again, as if he is choosing his words carefully.

“i know a better way to warm you up.”

your face lines in an expression of shock.

“we promised we wouldn’t do it here.” you say, “what if one of the others see something?”

“they won’t.” he smiles at you before pointing in the direction of the others, all enjoying themselves drifting down the snow, swerving in all kinds of directions.

it doesn’t take much for you to give in. so when you get back to the cabin, eventually changing into some fresh clothes that will eventually be pointless, jaemin turns out to be right.

he does know a way to warm you up.

his request didn’t surprise you, and you’re unsure if the others finding out that you and jaemin have been secretly hooking up for the past year is an all too bad thing. but at the thought of them having a little bit too much fun potentially teasing you both, you decided to keep it on the down-low.

it was never supposed to happen; you and jaemin are best friends. but after jaemin’s vow to stop playing with girls’ hearts and your fresh break up with your ex, you both decided that the logical thing to do is to use each other when you need it. it was simple.

over the past year, you have established 3 main rules for your ‘friends with benefits’ situation. number 1: you and jaemin can both sleep with other people if you so wish, number 2: no feelings are involved, if one person begins to feel anything for the other, then you must break it off. (this one isn’t and never will be a problem for you two, but you need to add it there anyway; you’ve heard the stories about jaemin the ‘serial heartbreaker’, and you definitely don’t want to be a victim of that) and number 3: no sleeping together during the winter ski trip. right now, you are breaking a rule, and neither you, nor jaemin, seem to care. it does scare you a little, however, considering how easily jaemin was willing to break it, and it has you wondering how strong the other rules even are.

after cleaning yourself up, you make your way to the kitchen to make yourself and jaemin a hot chocolate, sprinkling far too much powdered chocolate on the whipped cream and having to clear up all your mess soon after. jaemin follows you into the kitchen, pulling his shirt back over his head.

“can i ask you something?” jaemin says, reaching his arm past you to scoop his finger into the whipped cream and swiping it onto your nose. you push him away, watching as he giggles at you frantically wiping the cream off your nose in annoyance.

“sure.” you reply, and he leans on the counter beside you.

“when was the last time you slept with someone else?”

if you say the question doesn’t surprise you, you’d be lying. jaemin knows you can sleep with other people, it’s part of your rules. so why do you feel as though you’re in trouble?

“last saturday. that party on joomi’s street. eric sohn.”

jaemin’s face is unreadable. you continue, “if you’re worried you have competition, i wouldn’t worry. it was just one night.” you laugh.

“oh, i’m not worried.” he replies, “especially after the way you were saying my name back in there.”

his head tilts to the side to point in the direction of your room and you look over on instinct, memories of the past 30 minutes flashing in your mind and causing you to forget what you were even about to say.

but when you look over to the doorway, something else catches your attention.

or someone else.

standing at the front door, snowboard in hand and ski mask pulled down to his chin, stands a mortified, and astonished mark lee.

you freeze up, and no longer from the cold chill of snow.

he has heard everything.

you’re completely fucked.

❆ ❆ ❆

pacing around the kitchen and watching as mark looks between you both, you begin to attempt to redeem yourself.

“look, mark, that wasn’t what it sounded like, me and jaemin would never.”

mark looks at you, skeptical, before turning his attention to jaemin, who stands in the back corner of the kitchen, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed as if none of this is bothering him.

mark looks back at you. “yoooo, i mean, i guess i always knew there was something off about you guys.”

you rush towards him, clutching his shoulders. “i promise you, mark, it’s not like that-”

“we’re fucking.” jaemin finally speaks, and yours and mark’s heads both whip towards him in shock. jaemin shrugs, as if it isn’t a big deal.

“jaemin.” you say sternly, “what are you doin-”

“what? he caught us, there’s no point in denying it.”

“this is unbelievable.” mark chuckles, “i gotta go tell the others.”

“no you don’t.” you say, grabbing a hold of his arm.

he rolls his eyes. “alright, but at least give me details, man. how long? when did it start? why?”

you look to jaemin, not wanting to answer for yourself.

“about a year,” he says, “and why not?”

“why not?!” mark exclaims in disbelief, “i don’t know, maybe the fact that you’re best friends? what if you end up catching-”

“not gonna happen.” says jaemin, “we dont see eachother like that, never will.”

mark only continues to laugh, “this is nuts. you guys haven’t been doing it all weekend, have you? i don’t think i wanna hear it if you guys end up getting busy while we’re all meant to be asleep.”

“nope,” you reply. “this is the first and only time we’ve done it here. we sort of made it a rule so that this wouldn’t happen.”

before you can finish your conversation, chenle walks through the door. “so what wouldn’t happen?” he says, scanning his eyes between yours and jaemin’s lack of outdoor wear compared to mark’s.

“nothing.” you reply.

“nothing?” he asks, studying mark and jaemin’s expressions.

there is a second where no one speaks, but that seems to be enough for chenle, because the next thing he says is: “you guys fucked, didn’t you?”

mark can’t keep in his smile as he tries not to laugh and give it away, but jaemin’s stern expression speaks volumes.

chenle shrugs before taking off his coat and making his way to the fridge, “ehh, was sort of obvious anyways.”

“what?” you exclaim, “how?���

his eyebrow raises as he takes a bite of the donut he had taken out its packet, “jaemin swearing off girls the same time as you breaking up with your ex, you constantly ditching our movie nights to ‘hang out with your cat,’ and jaemin suddenly changing from being an insufferable prick to actually being half nice.” jaemin lets out a laugh at the last comment. “i have more if you want me to continu-“

 “thats okay, no thank you,” you speak up, “first of all, jaemin is still an insufferable prick.”

“thanks.” jaemin butts in.

“no problem.” you turn your head to him quickly before you continue, causing the others to laugh. “and secondly, i do actually go to hang out with my cat. i love her.” you say, offended.

“whatever.” chenle replies, a judging expression on his face.

they both took the news a lot better than you thought, so you decide to let them tell jisung, who is undoubtedly the most surprised at the revelation. but jaemin’s silence throughout the whole conversation annoys you. you don’t understand why he was being so quiet about it. but when you hear mark and jaemin whispering amongst themselves while you were meant to be in the shower, your confusion peaked.

“this isn’t like you, man.” it sounded like mark’s voice.

“i know.” jaemin replied.

that’s all you heard.

for the rest of the night, you all wrap yourselves in blankets on the sofa to watch some movie that jisung wanted to watch, the fireplace emitting a radial heat and deep hue of ember, softening you into a state of tiredness, drifting off as your head rests on the hard sofa next to you.

it’s only after you wake up that you realize it is certainly not the sofa that you were lying against, but instead, jaemin’s shoulder.

you hear the melodic birdsong as it fills the air outside, the white of snow lighting up the room. or is it chenle’s hideous singing in the shower that you hear? it’s hard to tell.

breaking yourself from jaemins sleeping grasp, you get up to look out the window. you’re meant to go home today, this is supposed to be your final morning of the trip.

but as you peek your vision out the window, around 3 feet of snow covers the floor all around the cabin, the four wheels of marks camper van not even visible.

“uhm, guys..” you call out, grabbing the attention of a freshly showered chenle, a mid breakfast-making mark, a book occupied jisung and a half asleep jaemin. they all stop their various activities at the urgency in your voice, coming over to you and looking out the window for themselves.

it takes each of them about 5 minutes to process what this means; your trip is going to be extended. you are trapped.

and you may be trapped but yours and jaemins secret is very much free.

it finally hits 3pm and you realise that you have all spent the entire day enveloped in boredom, watching as the snow falls and continues to form on the ground. there is no way all this snow will clear in just a few days.

you are lucky that chenle had brought nearly double the amount of food that you needed originally, meaning all you had to do now was to sit and wait it out. 

lounging on the sofa, you listen to the smooth rhythm of chenles jazz vinyl playing on loop across the room. you’re bored, and you can’t even go outside. you can tell the others are bored too, that same expression of ‘i just want to go home now.’ plastered on all of their faces. 

but their expressions quickly flip when a knock rattles from the front door.

you all look at each other in question before collectively jumping up in sync, running at inhuman speeds to the door. you were about to be saved, removed from the shackles of dullness and provided passage back home. 

being the first to get to the door, you grab a hold of the handle, struggling in attempts to only slightly crack it open to keep the snow outside.

but when you open the door and poke your head through the crack, you’re met with a very familiar face.

hayun. also known as, jaemins long-time ‘secret’ infatuation: his crush. 

your mind shatters in disbelief as you pull the door fully open to let the other guys see who it is, no longer caring about the snow as it comes piling in.

all because the look on jaemins face is priceless.

the others all look to him to see what he’s going to say, and unsurprisingly, all he has to say is ‘hi.’ you wouldn’t expect more from him, he’s never spoken a word that exceeds a greeting to her before.

following jaemins poor attempt at an introduction, you take over.

“what are you doing here? are you okay?” you ask, genuine concern for the girl lining your voice. 

“well, i was here on a ski trip with my friends but, they all abandoned me.”

“what?” you ask. 

“and i remembered seeing a few of your guys’ instagram posts saying you were here so… i thought i’d knock.”

“wow.” mark says, “your friends suck.”

“i know. so, any chance i can stay here? i would go home but the weather isn’t exactly drivable.”

you turn to the rest of your group, concluding the pity in their faces before turning back to hayun. “of course! we don’t have a spare room and the sofa gets cold at night but i have a double bed if you don’t mind sharing.”

“thank you so much!” she grins before stepping inside and pulling you in for a hug. you cringe as you come into contact with the cold casing of her coat, the ice cool against your skin as you try not to push her off of you. 

in all honesty, you feel bad for her and you know that jaemin is about to get relentlessly bullied by the rest of the group. this was about to make your extended trip a whole lot more interesting.

it hasn’t been a long time since he developed a crush on hayun, spotting her across the other side of his lecture hall. he always gives you some excuse as to why he’s somehow never gotten a chance to speak to her, so you presume that he’s happy that he finally has. either that or completely terrified. either way, you’re happy for him.

yes, you are. you’re happy for him.

❆ ❆ ❆

a few hours pass as you show hayun around the cabin, making space for her things in your room. letting her unpack, you make your way to the front room, finding jaemin and mark on the sofa, seemingly midway through a conversation. 

“oh, don’t let me stop you.” you say, urging them to continue their talk after they cease talking at your arrival.

mark turns back to jaemin. “i think you should go for it, dude, what harm could come out of it, huh?” he says.

you’re curious, “you’re gonna ask her out?” you say to jaemin.

he smirks, “maybe, maybe not.”

somehow, something in your heart doesn’t like the idea of jaemin asking out hayun. you’re not sure if it’s the idea of you and him ending this whole ‘friends with benefits’ situation, or the fact that you’re probably going to have to step back from being his best friend, because, let’s face it, there’s no way she would ever let you stay as close as you now are if they got together.

you slap the idea out of your head; he hasn’t even asked her out yet. 

mark notices the internal battle you have with yourself. “something wrong with that, yn?”

if jaemin wasn’t here right now, blocking you from mark by sitting in between you, you one hundred percent would have punched him at that.

jaemin looks over to you, a questioning expression on his face. 

“uh.. no…” you reply, apprehensive.

“oh come on, i saw the face you just made. you’re jealous that he’s gonna be fucking someone else, aren’t you?” mark continues.

you don’t know what to say, caught off guard by the truth in marks words and the cold presence of jaemins gaze on you. 

“im not jel- “ you begin, but jaemin interrupts you. 

“yn.” he says. it’s just your name but it holds so much meaning. “am i not allowed to have a girlfriend?”

“‘course you can.” you reply, shrugging.

mark raises his eyebrow at you and you seriously consider getting up and kicking him. 

jaemin continues, “good. it's decided then. i'm gonna ask her out.” 

mark pats him on the back, laughing, “good luck, dude.”

you smile in acknowledgement as jaemin thanks mark before chenle comes in, completely changing the subject when he starts complaining about hayun’s infiltration of his ‘well organised fridge.’ 

you zone out their conversation to reassure yourself that you truly don't care that jaemin was going to try to get close to hayun, but you can't help but feel like you're about to be replaced. you always knew it was going to happen, that one day jaemin would want to settle down with a girl. but you're just so used to his playboy personality that you just never expected it to be so soon. 

amongst the endless drill of chatter, you feel a sudden glance in your direction, and as you look up, jaemins eyes suddenly divert away from you, as if he got caught looking. you want to ask him what he wants, but the silence in his demeanour tells you that you shouldn't. it's bittersweet; the end of his situation with you, marks the start of one with hayun. its a trade in which you don't want to be part of, but you fear you have no choice – only time can decide.

the rest of the day went by quickly. maybe it was because of your new addition to the vacation or simply because chenle found a cupboard full of dusty boardgames that you decided to occupy yourselves with. naturally, it was you and mark that beat everyone else at your very long, grueling game of monopoly, but that quickly flipped to jisung when you took your turns at scrabble. 

the entire time, you and mark teased jaemin relentlessly, catching glimpses as he (unwilling) took his seat next to hayun, pushed there by chenle and jisung and ending up on her team. you could tell that he was getting annoyed at you both giggling at him, but you didn't care; it only made the entire thing so much more fun. 

by the end of the night, it was time to sleep, so you and hayun took your rightful sides of the bed. it isn't the best sleeping situation, but you’d much rather sleep beside her than have to experience mark’s sweaty feet ever again. (that experience was not one that you want to remember.)

before you can switch the light off, though, you hear hayun sit up. 

“wait, yn, before we sleep…” she says, and you look at her expectantly, “can i ask you something?”

“sure.” you reply. 

she looks down, fiddling with her fingers. “Its jaemin. is he.. single?”

as if you hadn't heard her, you take a pause, processing her question. 

“yeah.” you let a laugh slip, “why? you like him?”

at your question, she giggles and her voice makes you cringe a little. 

“yes. a lot actually, it's sort of the reason why im here..”

you furrow your brow. “what do you mean?”

she takes a deep breath. “my friends never kicked me out.. i just saw that you guys were also here and, well, i thought it'd be a chance for me to get to know him.”

it's as if your ears are deceiving you, the late night tiredness of the conversation urging you to hallucinate. but it's all real, every last word of it. 

“wait, so, you lied?.. to get us to let you stay?”

she nods, and you don't know if you should pity her or hate her guts. 

because you know what it's like to be in love; you know what it's like to like someone so much to the point where you allow yourself to do stupid things. you understand. 

but that doesnt mean that you like her for it. 

“i know you probably think i'm a horrible person.” she says.

“no.. no, not at all.” you reply, and she smiles at your words. 

“thanks yn.”

you laugh back, “so, jaemin huh?”

she looks back down at her fingers, “yeah.. embarrassing right?”

you smile, not just to her, but to yourself. 

“totally.”

❆ ❆ ❆

all night, you debate with yourself over what hayun had told you. on one hand, you can't agree with what she did: lying like that. but her crush on him means that jaemin would be happy, and as his best friend, you can't take that away from him. therefore, amongst your deep pool of thought, her confession swimming in the depths of your mind, you decide that the best thing for you to do, is to hold off telling him that she lied; not only would it ruin their chances of getting together, but therefore, jaemin would only be upset that he never got the chance.

but just because you can't tell jaemin, doesn't mean you can't tell mark. 

“i really don't know what to think about her.” you say, standing in the kitchen over three pans of eggs. mark had asked you to have the task of cooking them, resorting to focus on the rest of the group's breakfast. you know it's because he can't cook eggs to save his life, but he'll never admit that.

“honestly,” he replies, “who cares if she likes jaemin? she’s a sneaky little liar.” 

you laugh, “i don't know, mark. maybe she's just really in love with him.”

“i’m not so sure about that. how could anyone ever be in love with someone who wears a hoodie saying ‘orgasm donor’ in public.”

you roll your eyes and mark continues, “well, i guess we all know who he's donating to now..”

you slap him around the arm, causing him to cackle at your rash response. 

“anyways,’ he continues, “i wont tell jaemin about it if you don't want me to.” 

you nod, “thanks, mark. oh, and you're burning the bacon by the way.”

“oh shit.”

❆ ❆ ❆

deciding that the weather still wasnt good enough to attempt to make the journey home, you all decided to stay another day. although the day was full of indiscriminate party games and full fledged boredom, you somehow managed to make it through to nightfall. 

you’re nearly drifting off to sleep when you hear a tap at the door of your’s and hayun’s room. turning over to see hayun fast asleep, you get up to see who’s there, wondering what idiot buffoon decided to wake you up at 4 o’clock in the morning. 

by means of absolutely no surprise, it’s a disheveled jaemin, hair sticking up in about seven different directions and a crumpled tshirt that rises ever so slightly above his pyjama pants waistline, exposing skin that you do not have the energy to be fawning over. although, that’s exactly what you’re doing.

assuming that he’s here to finally break the news to hayun in some twisted, sensual late night confession, you turn your back to jaemin to call her name. in noticing what you’re about to do, jaemin reaches an arm around your waist, pulling you close enough to him that the palm of his other hand can cover your mouth. 

“will you shut up?” you don't need to see his face to know he's rolling his eyes, “this isn't exactly something i want her to see.”

oh.

he lets go of you, spinning you round to face him by your shoulders. he’s done this before: knocking on your door in the dead of night when he needs you. but you never expected him to do it here. not after your conversation with mark a few days ago, and certainly not whilst his crush was staying in your room. it all seems so bizarre. 

but you weren't going to say no. 

❆ ❆ ❆

the next morning, you realise that you had completely and utterly fucked up. 

the warmth of jaemin next to you remains, his arm slung lazily over the front of your stomach. you expect to open your eyes to jaemins ceiling back at home, but to much avail, you are very much still on vacation.

and you had four pairs of eyes staring down on you both to prove that. 

you jump out of jaemin’s hold immediately, causing him to slowly stir before mumbling something incoherent into the sheets. when he finally realises the situation you’re in, he takes the pillow beside his head, pushing it into his face. 

“you promised you wouldn't do it here, man.” mark starts. but your focus isn't on him, it's on hayun. 

and she's livid.

you turn the attention of your words to her. “im sorry. i should have told you.”

jaemin finally gets up, picking up his discarded shirt off the ground and pulling it over his head before sitting back on the end of the bed. 

hayun eyes him for any form of an apologetic sense, but he gives off nothing, and you fear this only makes her angrier.

your fear is proven correct when she suddenly snaps at you, “you knew i liked him and you still went and did this behind my back?”

at her words, the mood in the room suddenly shifts. what was an atmosphere of laughter and mischief at them catching you and jaemin together, is now suddenly a room of tension, a room that you no longer want to be in. 

but it's jaemins reaction that formulates the world's most unfortunate predicament. 

his head turns to you, a look of disappointment and what seems to be hurt, plastered on his face. “she likes me? and you hid it from me?”

you don't know what else to say, so you just tell him the truth. “yes, but it's not that simpl-”

“i don't care, yn.” he gets up, pushing past chenle to the bathroom before shutting the door behind him. 

fuck. you’ve messed up.

but one thing is nagging at you: jaemin seems to care far more about the fact that you hid the truth from him than what the truth actually entailed. you tell yourself he’s probably just embarrassed. either that or just completely and utterly in denial about it. either way, he’s acting strange; he should be happy, not angry. 

the entire day, jaemin didn’t utter a single word to you. as for hayun, she had been hidden away in your room, not speaking to a single person and avoiding any opportunity to accidentally bump into you. you did feel bad, you should have told her about it the second that she confessed her feelings for jaemin to you. but you had assumed from jaemin’s previous conversation with you, that you were calling it off, jaemin seeming pretty aware about the fact that she was now here. how were you supposed to predict him rocking up to your room at 4am?

anyhow, you spent the day with mark, discussing the ending of titanic and eating way too much chocolate to be healthy. when night came once more, you decided that it probably wasn't the best idea to go back to your room, scared about facing the wrath of the girl who resided in it. instead, after washing up in the bathroom, you make your way to the sofa in the front room. 

your actions are halted when you hear voices coming from the other side of jaemin’s door. you know you shouldn't eavesdrop on a private conversation, but you can’t help yourself. 

you register the second voice as mark as you get close enough to hear them clearer, just enough until you can hear what they're saying.

your heart hurts in your chest when you do. 

“i'm still going to ask her out, even with things the way they are.” you hear jaemin whisper. 

it's like a sudden shot to the chest. this is exactly what you feared from the very beginning, this is exactly what you trusted jaemin enough not to do. 

he’s choosing her over his best friend; he’s choosing her over you. 

trying to remain as quiet as possible, you continue your journey to the sofa, pain causing you to wince with every footstep – he's leaving you behind.

as you lie on the sofa, the chill air of the cabin surrounding you despite the presence of the fireplace, forcing you to wrap the blanket around you tighter, you struggle to bring yourself to sleep. but when you hear footsteps from the kitchen, you peek your head over the back of the sofa to see who’s there. 

at your movement, the culprit looks up from their snack-making and their eyes meet yours.

“jaemin?” you whisper, “why are you awake?”

“hungry.” he turns back, working on spreading the peanut butter onto his bagel. “what are you doing sleeping out here? it's way too cold.”

you stand up, making your way to the kitchen to stand behind him, blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you shiver from the frost. “i don’t think hayun likes me right now.” you say.

jaemin turns to face you, biting into his bagel. “i wonder why.” he says sarcastically, mouth half-full. you hate to admit it, but he looks incredibly alluring, he always does in the middle of the night. 

you hate the fact that he’s acting this way with you, dismissive and persistent, but he has every right, you hid so much from him, and you hurt him in the process. 

you’re at war with yourself, but in all honesty you know that you were in the wrong; for your friendship to work, you need to tell him everything. everything.

“actually,” you start, taking a deep breath, “there’s something you don't know.”

jaemin’s interest in the conversation suddenly spikes, looking for you to continue. 

“hayun… she.. wasn’t actually abandoned by her friends.”

“what?”

“the night she told me she liked you, she also told me that she ditched her friends because she saw that we were here. she lied about them kicking her out so that we would feel bad and let her stay, so that then she could finally get her chance to talk to you.” you pause, attempting to read jaemin’s face but failing, getting nothing from his expression. “i should have told you, but i didn't want you to get hurt. instead… i did exactly that. i'm sorry, jaemin, really.”

when you finish speaking, you notice as jaemin’s lips slightly curl into a smile before dropping back to his cold demeanor, and it makes you question whether you really saw it or if it was just your mind playing tricks on you. 

“yn..” he trails off, whatever he wants to say interrupted by your sudden panic in not wanting to embarrassing yourself.

you ramble, scared that he won't accept your apology. “but like you said to mark earlier, if you still want to ask her out, that's fin-”

“wait, what?” jaemin says, moving from his position leaning against the counter to stand upright. 

“i, um, heard you and mark talking earlier about how you were still going to ask her out despite everything..” you say. 

jaemin laughs to himself and you grow confused. “oh, yn.” he says. 

“what? what’s so funny?”

“you never did get my hints, did you.”

your heart freezes in your throat, the cold weather no longer chilling you but instead the bitter taste of jaemin’s words as they formulate in your brain. 

he continues, noticing your confusion. “it was never her that i had a crush on. it was never her that i was planning to ask out.”

you’re struggling to breath, each intake of oxygen getting caught in your chest. 

“yeah, i thought she was kinda pretty when i first saw her across my lecture a few months ago, but that was long before i fell for who i really wanted.” he smiles, inching closer to you. “and after everyone found out that i was sleeping with you, i decided that there was no longer an excuse for me to hide my feelings.” he takes a hold of your hand, looking down at it as he plays with your fingers. “i was starting to get pretty pissed that you wouldn’t pick up any of my hints, you know? you can’t even imagined how embarrassed i was to find out that it was because you were trying to play cupid for me and someone else.”

your mind is vacant, filled with the epiphany of his words as they resonate in your head, playing a tune of melancholic rhythm as it twists into an allegro.

“but… the rule.” you say. 

jaemin chuckles, “i think we stopped caring about those rules a while ago, yn. i know i did. ”

you’re no longer cold, jaemins warmth radiating against you like the blissful aura of a flame, attracting you and drawing you closer. 

it was then that you realised that you haven't said anything to equate his long speech, but words can do nothing to describe the way that you’re feeling. its as if someone had approached you with a mirror, brutally displaying each of your own hidden thoughts and projecting them back at you. because every single word that jaemin muttered, you found deep within yourself. it all clicks, perfectly and irrevocably, into place. your jealousy, your embarrassment, your stupidity. 

your love. 

instead of attempting to sum up all of your feelings into words, you do the one thing that will live up to the emotions that reside within you. taking not a single moment to prepare yourself, you lean closer to him, his eyes finding your lips. you nod, its small but the gesture means so much. it's an agreement, a sealing of mutual understanding. it's slow and it's incredibly gentle as his lips greet yours, soft in a way unlike ever before. kisses between you and jaemin were always the result of lust, of stupidity. but now, it's the result of something far greater. 

it’s love. 

❆ ❆ ❆

when the sun rises above the horizon, you leap from jaemin’s bed, him giggling at your eagerness. 

“oh my god, it's finally clear!!” you yell, waking up each of the boys with your burst of excitement. you could finally go home. 

the morning consisted of three major revelations. one: you all contacting hayun’s friends, watching as they dragged her into their car to drive her home. two: discovering that chenle had only showered once throughout the entire holiday (you all started placing bids as to who gets to not sit next to him on the journey back.) and three: witnessing the boys’ reactions to your’s and jaemins new secret. 

“i knew you’d do it, dude.” mark said, attempting to fist bump jaemin in the most cringe-worthy interaction you’ve ever seen in your life. jisung and chenle however, were completely baffled, and it took about thirty minutes of explaining for them to understand that it was you that jaemin had a crush on, and not hayun. you’re still convinced that jisung doesn't understand.

once you had all packed your things, you grabbed your suitcases, standing in the porch as chenle locked the front door for the final time. 

“im going to miss this place.” mark says, exaggerating an act of sadness as he clutches his chest. 

“im not,” chenle replies, “i’ve never been so bored in my entire fucking life.”

“it’s been fun.” you say, smiling.

jaemin’s voice comes from next to you. “eh, could have been better.” 

you turn to him in offence. 

he continues, “i'm just saying, i never got to actually snowboard.”

“are you suggesting what i think you’re suggesting…?” mark replies, looking around the group and meeting similar grins and looks of hopefulness. 

jaemin shrugs, “i dont know, am i?”

as if on cue, you all drop your suitcases in the snow, laughter and coils of happiness springing between you as you run to the shed behind the cabin for one last time. 

no other winter ski trip ever got near to living up to that one. 

not even close. 

[midnite-c6]

Hear me out. Pink Guard Reader (any shape guard; triangle/square/circle) who watches the contestants of this horrendous game fight for the money that glows above them and their own survival for it. Pink Guard Reader who notices two particular contestants, Nam-Gyu and Thanos. Both of them seemingly seem to stand out amongst all the players since everyone seems to be taking these games seriously besides those two, mainly. You keep a watchful eye upon them (and perhaps, sneakily help them in some situations...maybe, saving their lives at one point...?) and it doesn't take for one of them to notice and inform the other. And they now keep a particular eye on you, and perhaps, when they see you standing alone in a certain area with your pink guard uniform and mask..IDK, PLEASE HEAR ME OUT

guys tables turned!!! tthank thank..tjanks for sharing to the class hahahahahah PURRRRR. omg the way theyd absolutely look down on u bcuz like ure the one supposed to kill them and be evil so why r u being so nice? (they take advantage of this ofc) 🫶🏻

thanos & namgyu x pinkguard!reader warnings: 18+, DARK content, dubcon

つ⁠｡⁠☆ you were just so intrigued by them! i mean, they were literally treating the games like... games. no deaths, no consequences, just fun! they were insane. you liked insane, tho. you'd even save them in the game mingle. unfairly killing other players. you wanted them to live because.. you were bored, and they kept the games fun, anyways.

it was now dinner time, when the two guys would line up for their own share of food, thanos would notice it was you! the same guard that saved them since the button on your jacket was slightly broken,, "my bro, can i get extra?" he'd press his hands together, and you'd happily give him extra because, why not? nam-gyu was just behind him, asking the same, he'd even give a polite thank you.

both of them noticed how they were the only ones getting unfair advantages, so when everyone's too busy with their food or talking to their groups, they walk up to you, as you were standing guard next to the bathrooms. you couldn't speak, since you'd be scolded to talk without permission, but the two have got nothing to lose, and they'd make it their life's goal to bother you. "pst. triangleee facee. talk to us!" thanos would poke you, his other hand occupied by the extra milk you gave him earlier. "ah, this dude's boring."

thanos would even offer the small pills inside his cross necklace, you politely decline. simply shaking your head. "do you think there's a person inside there?" nam-gyu would press on your mask as he wonders, "you're right! what if this guy is just a robot..? shiit. technology is getting good." nam-gyu would stare at you intently, trying to find something underneath that mask. he'd take his hands to touch your chest and stomach, in search of any indications on your body, of course, the touch makes you jolt. you immediately point your gun at him. "woah, woah ..my bad." he says as he puts both of his hands up. "ah, fuck dude you angered him!" they'd both laugh, and you lower your firearm. "so it must be a human." thanos would get all up in your face. "hey, tell me, man, why'd you save us?" you can't answer. "why can't you speaaak??" he was getting frustrated, clearly. you'd only turn your face to the guard with a square on his mask, signaling him as your superior. "i think if he talks, that guy would get mad." "ohhh yeah no shit, dude." and before you could react, thanos quickly pulls you to the mens bathroom, guess you have no choice but to speak now..

"there! surely you could speak now!" he exclaims and after a few seconds of contemplating, you would speak, although the voice is distorted , "that's correct."

"take off your mask then." such a straight-forward request, but you'd do it with no protest, you're just the same as them, nothing to lose. once you've lifted your mask to rest ontop of your head, you'd happily breathe in the cold air. the two stares at you dumbfoundedly. "fuck dude, your pills are starting to make me go crazy." "me too bro!!" "is it just me or are you also seeing a chick?" player 124 would rub his eyes with his hands. "what the fuuuuuuuuck." you'd only snort at their comments. "hey! you've been shootin' people , huh?" the purple-haired one would scold, "is there something wrong with that?" nam-gyu chuckles, "bet she looked hot doing it, to be honest." thanos touches your face with his hand. "you're like.. a guardian angel to us." you're embarrassed honestly, it was such an awkward moment. they'd both look at each other at that moment, reaching to some kind of decision, "hell yea, do i wanna fuck my guardian angel."

nsfw below!!-> 💘

"mmph-. god. fucking a murderer feels crazy." thanos happily blurts out in groans, as he pushes heavily inside you, putting in all his weight , balls deep inside your pussy. you couldn't moan out, with nam-gyu's cock shoved down your throat, his pace was much more abusive and mean than thanos', bruising your poor throat. they didn't even bother to go inside a stall, instead deciding to be right in the middle of the mens bathroom, where your suit was pushed to the side. they'd keep the gun slinged to your body, and your mask still slightly lifted up from your face, the mask stays on, what a hot image. the one thrusting inside your cunt was ecstatic, like he was so pent up he'd thank the gods he could put it all out inside you. "awwh.. pretty pink guard.." he would tuck your hair behind your ears, your forehead dripping with sweat. "pretty pink pussy n' all. you're so evil.." nam-gyu would also thrust far too deep, making you gag, your hands would grip on player 124's legs, letting him know that he was going too rough! and for what! "you're tough, i'm sure you can take it." and he goes even faster! it was like they were punishing you for only doing your job, not even bothering to say thank you for saving them :(

...sadly, the rules are strict when it comes to being a guard. and you've been gone for way too long, atleast you went out with a bang! literally.

I MADE THIS SO SILLY 😭🙏🏻. guys sorry mah brain nawt working LOLs but they can do it day and night every position until i learn fluent korean fr. born to ride both forced to only write and read for them😿 maybe i make masterlist after this 🤨

[hypnobeauty]

A Chance Encounter - a cho hyun-ju x reader fic (part 4)

summary: a story about how you and hyun-ju met and the following years of your relationship. part 1 / part 2 / part 3 cw: no use of y/n, reader is afab, fluff, slowburn, pre-squid game, slice of life. a/n: hello! i lied, forgive me; i said we'd get into the relationship this part, but i love me a good slowburn. i try to keep the chapters around 1,000 words so it's not too boring, so we end up having more parts. this one is a little short but the next will be bigger. enjoy xx as always, comments are appreciated ♥ taglist: @strayteez3staner @dekiruxxx @jeongteen @sunnysurvives @3leni @etta-huracan @honeyhyunju @basoressia - comment if you’d like to be tagged.

part 4. a table by the window

“i don’t have much time,” you said, checking the watch on your wrist. “i need to be back at the office in…” you squinted at the numbers. “thirty-two minutes.”

hyun-ju smiled faintly, her fingers brushing the side of her coffee cup. “that’s more than enough.”

after she’d stopped you on your way out of the café, you’d followed her to the table by the window. the golden afternoon light softened the angles of her face, catching on her cheekbones and the delicate curve of her nose.

“your nose looks beautiful,” you said, meaning it. the words were out before you could second-guess them.

her hand lifted to her face instinctively, touching her nose with a soft laugh. “thank you.”

“i just wish you’d let me know you were okay,” you said, the words coming out quieter than you expected.

*

the silence from hyun-ju lingered longer than you expected, turning from a question into a quiet ache. at first, you checked your phone constantly, convinced that each buzz or notification would be her reply. but days passed, then weeks, and your hope started to wane.

for hyun-ju, the silence wasn’t intentional—it was survival. every time her phone buzzed with one of your messages, her heart leapt, and she’d reach for it instinctively. but then the doubts would creep in: what if i say the wrong thing? what if she’s just being nice? what if this doesn’t work out?

she’d type out replies, erase them, and set her phone aside, the weight of what she wasn’t saying pressing down on her chest. but the silence didn’t mean she wasn’t thinking about you. in fact, you occupied her thoughts more than she cared to admit. she replayed your conversations in her mind—the way you’d made her laugh, the easy way you spoke, the warmth in your voice when you said she deserved kindness.

more than once, she caught herself imagining what she’d say if she had the courage to text back. she’d want to thank you for being so thoughtful, for seeing her as a person when so many others didn’t. she’d want to ask about your life, your friends, your favorite things. she’d want to tell you how much it meant to her that you didn’t flinch at her truth.

you told yourself you weren’t upset—after all, you barely knew her. but the truth was, her absence left a hollow space you couldn’t quite fill. there was something about her that stayed with you, something you couldn’t shake.

sometimes, you’d catch yourself wondering why it mattered so much. poor ha-neul had been filling up her shoes as best friend dutifully, recovering from her surgery with you yapping in her ear about the situation.

you’d known ha-neul since college, a whirlwind friendship that started over shared ramen packets during late-night study sessions and grew into something solid and dependable. now, working together in the same advertising agency— you as a graphic designer and her as an advertiser— , she was the closest person in your life, a friendship filled with unwavering support and never stopping banter.

so when ha-neul teased you about hyun-ju, it didn’t bother you as much as it might have coming from someone else.

“if you like her, you like her. it doesn’t have to be a big deal,” she said one day as you walked back from a coffee run. it was a simple statement, but it stayed with you.

you hadn’t thought much about dating women before. the truth was, you’d always admired women—sometimes in passing, sometimes more deeply—but you’d never let yourself linger on those feelings. boys were “easier”. in college, there was a girl in one of your classes, a sculptor with messy hair and calloused hands, who had a smile that made your stomach flip. you’d convinced yourself it was just admiration.

then there was your coworker at your first internship. she’d always leaned a little too close when she talked to you, her laugh warm and easy, and you’d caught yourself wondering what it would be like to hold her hand. but you hadn’t let yourself think about it for long.

it was easier to dismiss those feelings, to chalk them up to fleeting crushes or passing thoughts. you never questioned it too deeply, brushing those emotions aside before they could take root.

some of it, you realized, had to do with other people’s opinions. growing up, it was easier to follow the expectations placed on you—to keep things simple and avoid any sideways glances or pointed questions. the world had a funny way of making you second-guess yourself before you even had the chance to figure things out.

but hyun-ju wasn’t a fleeting moment. she wasn’t something you could brush aside.

at first, you told yourself it was just her kindness that drew you in, or maybe the way she seemed both strong and soft at once. but the more you thought about her, the more you realized it was something else. she’d made you laugh, made you curious, made you want to understand her in a way that felt new and exciting—and a little scary.

unknown to each other, both of you wanted to reach out but didn’t know how. both of you felt the weight of what wasn’t being said. and in the quiet spaces of your lives, both of you found yourselves thinking about each other: on your commute, you’d glance out the window, wondering if you’d ever run into her again; on her walks to the grocery store, hyun-ju would imagine what it might be like to bump into you, to have a reason to talk to you without the pressure of responding to your messages. you kept her number saved in your phone, the unanswered texts a reminder of something unfinished and she kept her phone close, always expecting the next buzz to be from you, even though she hadn’t replied to the last.

by the time a month had passed, the silence between you had stretched thin, hyun-ju holding onto the hope that it wasn’t too late and you resigned to the way the situation had ended. for hyun-ju, the café was just another stop in her routine, a quiet moment to sip her coffee and crunch numbers for her next surgery. she wasn’t expecting anything to change. for you, the café was a small indulgence in the middle of a long day, a chance to take a break and treat yourself to something sweet and forget the lingering questions in your mind. neither of you knew that the moment you’d both been waiting for was about to arrive.

*

hyun-ju smiled faintly as she cupped her drink, her fingers brushing the edge of the warm porcelain. “i… really am sorry. i didn’t mean to make you feel ignored. i wasn’t sure how to…” she paused, exhaling sharply. 

you tilted your head, studying her face. “it’s okay. i get it, kind of.” you softened your tone, glancing at her. “but it would’ve been nice just to know you were alright. i… worried about you.”

hyun-ju’s gaze darted to you, then back to her cup. “i wanted to reply,” she admitted, her voice quiet. “but every time i tried, i’d just… freeze. i overthink everything. so i’d delete it and try again. and again.”

“that sounds exhausting,” you said gently.

“it is.” she chuckled nervously. “my therapist keeps telling me to stop overthinking, but that’s like telling water not to be wet.”

you perked up at the mention of therapy. “therapist? how long have you been going?”

“about a year,” she said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “i started right before i came out. it was… rough at first, but it’s been helpful. she’s great—tough but fair. keeps me from spiraling too much.”

“that’s awesome,” you said, smiling. “i’ve always thought therapy was one of those things everyone should try at least once, even if their life isn’t falling apart.”

“right?” hyun-ju said, her lips quirking upward. “sometimes i just go to vent about how my friends are driving me crazy.”

you leaned forward slightly, curiosity tugging at you. “you must have good ones if they’re worth venting about.”

“i do,” she said with a small smile. 

“you work out often?” you asked, glancing at her arms, where her muscles shifted under the sleeves of her grey shirt. you hoped you weren’t being too obvious, but it was hard not to notice.

“pretty regularly,” she said, shrugging. “it helps me clear my head.”

you nodded, still trying to appear casual. “yeah, i could… kind of tell.”

her brow furrowed, then she caught the direction of your gaze and laughed softly. “it’s not that serious.”

“sure, it’s not,” you said with a grin, taking a sip of your drink.

“what about you?” she asked. “what’s been going on in your life?”

“let’s see…” you began. “oh! ha-neul had her nose surgery a few weeks ago, so i’ve been playing nurse-slash-therapist for her ever since. she milked it for all it was worth.”

hyun-ju chuckled. “that’s what friends are for, right?”

“absolutely,” you said. “we’re lucky we could work remotely during her recovery. it was a lifesaver. we’d crash at each other’s places and work on projects together, though it was mostly me fetching her tea and reminding her not to poke her face.”

“she’s lucky to have you,” hyun-ju said, her voice warm.

“and i’m lucky she puts up with me,” you replied.

the conversation flowed easily now, each question and answer peeling back another layer. but when you glanced at your watch, reality hit.

“oh no,” you said, straightening in your chair. “i’ve got to get back to work. i didn’t even realize how much time had passed.”

hyun-ju’s expression flickered with disappointment, but she nodded. “i don’t want to keep you.”

you stood, slinging your bag over your shoulder. you hesitated at the table, something unspoken hovering between you. “maybe we could meet again sometime?” you offered. “i feel like there’s still so much to talk about.”

hyun-ju’s eyes widened slightly. “you mean… like a date?”

you grinned. “only if you want it to be.”

for a moment, you thought she might backtrack, but to your surprise, she met your gaze and nodded. “okay. yeah. let’s do that.”

your heart did a little flip as you smiled. “great. i’ll see you soon, then.”

*

your walk back to the agency wasn’t as cold as it should be; you actually felt reinvigorated and with more energy to finish your day. but your return was later than intended, slipping into your desk chair with a cup of cold coffee in hand. ha-neul noticed immediately.

“you’re late,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “and that coffee looks sad.”

you shrugged, setting the cup down. “got distracted.”

she narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “distracted by what?”

before you could answer, your phone buzzed on the desk. you glanced at the screen, and your lips curved into a smile as you read the text from hyun-ju.

"hi. there’s a traditioal korean restaurant near my place. would that work?"

ha-neul, always curious, leaned over before you could stop her. her eyes widened as she read the message, and then she turned to you with a grin so wide it almost hurt to look at.

“oh my god!” she squealed, grabbing your arm and jumping up and down like a kid. “is this really her?”

“ha-neul, calm down,” you said, laughing despite yourself.

“calm down? are you kidding? you have been yapping about her for a fucking month!” she said, laughing as she hugged you. “tell me everything!”

“later,” you said, still grinning as you typed your reply.

"sounds perfect. i can’t wait."

[daenystheedreamer]

please tell us about alysannejonquil..... you've intrigued me

ok so. jonquil is utterly totally irrevocably devoted to alysanne. her very shadow. nothing is more important to jonquil than alysanne. alysanne is the maiden made flesh. alysanne is a true princess a true queen the most beautiful the most kind the most gentle.

alysanne loves jaehaerys with all her heart, he is her soul she is his heart. she also loves jonquil, as her truest friend. she's like her hand; an undeniable part of herself. alysanne could be bisexual if she knew that existed but truly has no thoughts on this matter.

jonquil knows she is a lesbian and can identify her sexuality. she is also a bastard daughter and a woman knight. she can never be a true daughter nor a true knight.

there relationship is one of meaningful touches, where it is thoughtless and whole-heartedly given by alysanne and obsessed over and greedily, starvingly kept by jonquil. an empathetic pat on the knee. braiding jonquil's hair so it's out of the way. tying the ribbons on alysanne's dress.

alysanne says oh you are my jonquil then i must be your florian. jonquil is gripping her sword white-knuckled. haha yes your grace of course your grace. jonquil thinks about alysanne the maiden in the pool the true jonquil.

alysanne is 15 when the attack at maidenpool happens and i like jonquil at 18 because it mirrors brienne and it means she did her mystery knight tourney at 16 like lyanna. they grow up together. jonquil is beside her for the births of all her children, from daenerys to gael.

jonquil sees the king and hates. and then she repents, because he is the king and if alysanne is the mother then he is the father made flesh. but he puts alysanne in that birthing bed and makes her bloody and still alysanne loves him still alysanne praises him for giving her children.

ok dramatic prose over it got too much. anyway i think jonquil is sort of a weird aunt figure in the lives of alysanne's kids. she's literally been there since birth. ill put her opinions on the kids below the cut. i think alyssa, saera and viserra specifically all catch on and identify exactly what jonquil's deal is and i do believe they each tease and harass her over this. alyssa in a fun and flirty way, saera in a pointed and cruel way, viserra in a simultaneously careless and egomaniac way.

jonquil being the one who physically restrains saera and forces her to watch jaehaerys behead her lovers. Layers. layers to this. saera is an insult to her mother a wicked wicked girl. jaehaerys IS the father IS the king. alysanne must be protected.

jonquil loves the order jonquil loves the system. she believes herself an aberrance and repents over this.

also i think jonquil would get jealous when gael becomes alysanne's bedmate. layers layers layers. she liked daenerys because daenerys died before she could become a disappointment.

i want jonquil surviving alysanne and sticking around at court. like barristan. a shadow once more. i want her to see alicent. i want her to see another faithful girl in the flower of her youth caring for jaehaerys and jaehaerys mistaking her for his daughters for saera. i want to see it. she has a stroke and dies at a sept lying at the foot of the maiden. or mother idk could be either.

i dont like alyquil ever consummate. i mean i can enjoy thinking about it but like in this timeline/au/interpretation of canon/fanon whatever i think its not unrequited its just unconsummated. jonquil knows alysanne could love her, does love her, doesnt understand sexuality, but she could never. but she wants to. and has to apologise to the gods about it.

DAENERYS - cute kid, dies young so jonquil never has to see her become a wicked sort of woman

AEMON + BAELON - she cant tell the difference between them. they are their father's sons. they will be her king one day. Layers.

ALYSSA - i like to think she taught alyssa some swordfighting since alyssa is mentioned as playing with wooden swords as a kid. jonquil has complex feelings on alyssa's early non-conforming gender stuff. i think alyssa genuinely likes jonquil but also likes teasing and flirting with her. unlike her mother alyssa can identify her bisexuality. when alyssa settles down (with her brother) and becomes a good wife (to her brother) jonquil is like. im not going to think about this more than i have to. she is a little disgusted and then feels disgusted for feeling disgusted because aly and jae are sister and brother and aly can do no wrong which means to feel disgusted is to make aly less of an ethereal angel. is broken up by alyssa's death, never wants to think about it ever again.

MAEGELLE - the other good daughter. chose the order chose the system. kind and gentle and sweet like alysanne. faithful and good.

VAEGON - just kind of weird. doesnt like fighting doesnt like fucking. does not entirely fit his assigned gender role, which jonquil should relate to but she's not ready for that cognitive dissonance.

DAELLA - the last of the good daughters. jonquil thinks she's a weakling but then repents for thinking that because women are supposed to be weaklings. sad for alysanne when she dies.

SAERA - the wicked evil WHORE of a daughter. a demon who is a stain on her angel of a mother. of course she turned to prostitution. saera for sure was sexually harassing jonquil cos she thought it was funny. definitely like "awww mummy isnt gonna fuck you but you can settle for me ;)" and jonquil is like. im going to fall on my own sword.

VISERRA - another disappointment daughter. im not sure if i want to go full jaehaerys-abused-his-daughters in this but like. idk your mileage may vary. but no matter what jonquil is still going to be a little misogyinst about it and judge her drinking judge her self destruction. jonquil may hate jaehaerys but if alysanne loves jaehaerys than jaehaerys can therefore do no wrong sort of thing.

GAEMON + VALERION - the kids themselves dont matter but the difficult labours that alysanne went through definitely affect jonquil. she gives the king the silent treatment for a while. curses him and then repents over it and doesnt feel guilty and has to repent again.

GAEL - good daughter, in a way, but jonquil has deep jealousy over how alysanne finds comfort in her. when gael gets doomed jonquil is, deep down, a little relieved and happy because alysanne finds comfort in jonquil once more. lots of praying over that one.

bonus

AEMMA ARRYN - she likes aemma because aemma is nice and gentle and kind (just like alysanne therefore good. a worthy inheritor of queenship) + born from one of the good daugthers

DAEMON - she looks at him and sees saera

RHAENICENT - her head explodes about this

[rhiannonsknife]

— thinking about lucy and wasteland pollen…

— warnings: wasteland!reader. fem!reader. nsfw content. so mdni.

lucy is new to everything up here.

so naturally, she doesn’t think twice before bounding into a field of strange-looking flowers, her curiosity leading her straight to them.

“would you look at that?” she says, crouching down to inspect a cluster of golden petals swaying gently in the breeze. you don’t even have time to warn her before her boot lands on something with a soft crunch. the motion releases a faint hiss below, and suddenly a shimmering cloud of yellow spores billows up around her. lucy only waves a hand through it, laughing. “huh, weird plants!” she remarks, completely and utterly unfazed, oblivious to the danger.

“why did you stop?” she calls over her shoulder when she notices you lingering a few feet back, hesitant to follow. “don’t tell me you’re scared of a little flower dust!”

the golden dust of spores clings to her jumpsuit, her hair, her skin. every part of lucy seems coated in them, yet she doesn’t appear worried in the slightest.

instead, she frowns at you.

“you’re acting weird. did i do something?” lucy asks, unaware of the risk she’s already unleashed. the spores are likely already in both of your systems, setting something irreversible into motion.

lucy has always been so unaware of her effect on you. even now, she seems to find a way of making everything harder for you.

you’re the one who has to decide to leave the field and get her somewhere safer, (once again getting both of you to safety as per usual) but even then, it’s impossible not to notice the little things about her: the way the flush begins to creep up her neck. how her fingers nervously fidget with the straps of her pack. or the way, when you sit down at your makeshift shelter for the night, she keeps shifting closer to you without even realizing it

the silence stretches on until lucy, never one to hold back her curiosity, finally breaks it: “why is it so hot in here? Is it just me? Is that…normal?” she asks, tugging at the collar of her jumpsuit, exposing a sliver of skin that feels suddenly too intimate to look at.

you force yourself to turn away, to focus on literally anything else, even as heat pools in your stomach.

“maybe it’s the air circulation,” she muses aloud, her fingers still working at her jumpsuit. “vaults had better airflow! this place is like a furnace!”

lucy pauses, then glances at you again. “your face is all red too!”

she leans in, her eyes locking onto yours. the space between your bodies shrinks. suddenly all you can think about is how close she is, how her heat radiates against you, how easy it would be to reach for her and-

“lucy, it’s not the air!” you blurt, scrambling back with a voice that betrays how strained you feel.

lucy only frowns in confusion.

“what do you mean?” she asks. “is this one of those things i should’ve read about in that wasteland survival guide you made me throw out?” her brows knit together as she stares at you, the weight of the situation still not sinking in.

“lucy, stop!” you finally snap, the sharpness of your voice cutting through the haze that’s currently clouding both of your thoughts.

“why?” she demands, louder this time. “oh, gee, are you sick? are we sick? what’s happening?” her hands flutter in front of her, restless and unsure, and you have to catch her wrists to still her before she completely spirals.

“it’s not sickness!” you manage hoarsely. “it’s something in the flowers outside. it- it does things to people,”

lucy doesn’t miss a beat. “what kind of things?” she asks, and the innocence in her voice sends a fresh wave of heat crawling up your neck.

“it’s like…a chemical reaction!” you try. “a really strong one”

she blinks at you, her expression still painfully blank. “like hallucinations? oh my- is this a drug thing? because i’m not-”

“not hallucinations, lucy!” you interrupt her. “it’s…sexual.”

she stares at you, her mouth opening, then closing again. “sexual?”

you close your eyes, breathing deeply in an attempt to stay calm. “it’s an aphrodisiac. it makes people…” you trail off, unsure how to finish the sentence without your voice breaking.

her lips part in a silent ‘oh’.

lucy shifts her weight awkwardly, her cheeks flushed. “so, is that why i feel…kind of weird?” she asks, looking down at herself. her hands fidget at her sides. “because i thought it was just the heat, but my chest feels tight and i-” she cuts herself off abruptly, her wide eyes darting up to meet yours. “wait, do you feel that too?”

you grit your teeth. “it’s the spores!” you say sharply, refusing to answer her question directly.

lucy sits in silence for a moment, mumbling ‘okay, okay’ under her breath. “this is fine!” she blurts out then, pacing to her corner of the room like she can outpace her own discomfort. she tugs at the zipper of her jumpsuit, pulling it down halfway to reveal the damp fabric of the tank top clinging to her skin.

“it’s just a little warm, that’s all! we’ve been through worse, right?”

“it’s temporary,” you mutter, more to yourself than to her. “it’ll wear off. we just need to wait it out!”

but lucy clearly doesn’t know how to wait something like this out. she doesn’t stop talking once, her voice a nervous stream of energy. “it’s just, like, a fever, right?” she says, forcing a laugh that’s far too loud. “i’ve had fevers before! this is fine. totally fine!”

you don’t respond. you can’t.

your jaw is clenched too tight, and your focus is entirely on not looking at her: not at the way she keeps fidgeting with the fabric of her suit around her thighs, or the way her chest rises and falls with shallow, uneven breaths, or the way the flush spreads down her neck, blooming across her sweaty collarbones.

the air feels thicker by the second, stifling and heavy. you’re biting the inside of your cheek bloody and digging your nails into your palms, desperate for anything to ground yourself, anything to distract from the heat coursing through you, from the way your body throbs in time with your heartbeat.

lucy, who’s the one who got you into this mess in the first place, catches you staring at her. her breath hitches for a moment, her lips parting slightly. “are you okay?” she asks. “you’re being really quiet,”

“i’m fine!” It comes out harsher than you intend, and you turn away, pretending to rummage through your pack. your hands are shaking too much to do anything useful, but at least it gives you something to focus on besides her.

lucy doesn’t let it go. of course she doesn’t.

you hear the sound of her boots scraping against the floor as she stands and crosses the room, and before you can tell her to stay put, she’s kneeling in front of you. “hey,” she says, her hand hovering hesitantly near your shoulder.

“don’t!” you bark, jerking away before she can touch you.

her hand drops immediately, her face falling. “i wasn’t- i’m sorry! i didn’t mean to-”

“it’s not your fault!” you interrupt apologetically. “it’s just…”

you trail off. you want her, that’s what it is. you’ve been wanting her, long before she decided to step onto the petals and release spores that would only make matters worse.

now that they’re in your system, you’re hyper-aware of all the things you didn’t notice before: each breath lucy takes rings in your ears, the scent of her lingering with how close she’s sitting. hell, even the sweat that’s dripping from the side of her neck seems to draw you in.

lucy sits back on her heels, studying your face carefully. “it’s bad, isn’t it? the spores?”

you can smell her from here: sweat, heat, and something unmistakably sweet beneath it all. it only makes it harder to think. you swallow hard, nodding. “yeah. it’s bad.”

she hesitates, then asks the question you’ve been dreading. “is it bad for you because of me?”

you don’t answer right away, but when your eyes meet hers they seem to give her all the confirmation she needs. lucy, who’s very clearly not immune to the effects of the spores, doesn’t seem to fight them as hard as you are.

“i can feel it too, you know?” she murmurs. “it’s like this…heat. it won’t go away,” her cheeks flush deeper and she looks down. “i keep telling myself not to think about it, but-” her fingers twitch against the floor. you clench your jaw, forcing yourself to hold back, even as every fiber of your being screams at you to close the space between you.

“we can’t!”

lucy leans in. “why not?”

the dam breaks.

she freezes for half a second when you surge forward, only to melt into you moments later. your lips crash against hers, hard and desperate, and her back hits the wall with a soft thud.

her arms instinctively come up around your neck, pulling you closer. she makes a soft, startled sound against your mouth, but it quickly shifts into something hungrier, something raw.

lucy maclean, you only vaguely realize as her tongue slides past your lips, is moaning right into your mouth and you aren’t even touching her yet.

her fingers tangle in your hair, tugging just enough to make you shiver as the kiss deepens. the heat between your legs is unbearable now, a steady thrum that pulses through your veins, demanding release.

neither of you can stop the way your bodies move together, hips rolling forward in a frantic rhythm. there’s no relief there, in the way your hips meet halfway, only need, frustration growing with every futile attempt to grind yourself against her.

and yet you physically cannot stop.

it’s almost embarrassing how fast it sends you over the edge once you finally stumble to the dusty ground together and find a good angle to grind against each other, one that actually works.

it only takes a few lazy ruts of your hips until you’re cumming beneath her, rutting through the haze of pleasure. you’re just conscious enough to feel lucy tense up above you too, shaking and trembling with the force of her own orgasm, with her head thrown back and her hair sticking to the sweat on her face.

still, you can’t seem to stop.

a part of you expected this to be the end of the aching throb between your legs and the heat flashes, yet the orgasm only seems to make things worse: like an itch, only intensifying once it’s been scratched.

lucy, seemingly struggling with the same thing, feels greedy when she starts humping your leg all over again, whining: “can’t stop. m’sorry. i can’t stop!” as she drags her crotch over your thigh.

you can feel how damp she feels there, how hot and wet. at this point, you don’t care to think rationally about this. you’ve already crossed the point of no return, so you might as well make use of the…situation.

she is ever wetter than you’d expected from what you felt through her jumpsuit already (you both are): once you’ve peeled the fabric off her damp skin and reach between her legs for the first time, you’re taken aback by the sheer amount of arousal that has pooled there.

lucy is so wet, impatiently humping your fingers until two of them slide into her easily.

her own fingers curl around your wrist, moving it so she’s fucking herself on you.

two easily turn to three, her body gladly accommodating the stretch. and even then, even as the second orgasm crashes over her in record time, lucy is still panting and begging for more.

you know it’s the pollen. you know there’s no way to fully satisfy the urge until it wears off eventually. but how are you supposed to turn lucy down when your own body is aching for her and she’s quite literally begging for more? when she’s gushing down your wrists, her walls clamping down against your fingers so tight it’s hard to move?

of course, lucy gets you off too. you doubt you could’ve gone much longer without feeling her touch.

truthfully, you have no idea if she knows anything about this or if she’s going on some primal instinct caused by the spores.

either way, you’re in no position to question her when she aligns herself with you once she’s gotten you out of your clothes too. when she grinds against you with no restrictions in the way, clutching your hand tightly in her own to somehow ground herself. when her slick rubs against yours and you feel her cunt throbbing and her clit pulsing against your own until you cum with a desperate cry of lucy’s name.

it’s not surprising that neither of you had enough of the other just yet, with lucy already one orgasm ahead.

so she spins you around so you’re on all fours and puts her mouth on you from behind, lapping up your arousal.

her name echos through the night but you’re far too into this to care about the potential dangers you could be attracting. besides, if you die with lucy’s tongue inside of you, it’ll be worth it.

“oh my god!” you cry out, arching your back. she hums breathlessly, her hands on your ass and her lips closing around your clit as they suck.

it’s hours later, after she’s made you cum one final time on her fingers until you were gushing around them, that you both come to your senses again.

lucy is sprawled out on the floorboards by your side, staring at the ceiling with wide, unblinking eyes. her chest heaves with uneven breaths, inhaling the heavy scent of sweat and sex around you.

“oh,” she says finally, hands folded over her stomach. “oh wow,”

while the adrenaline is still buzzing faintly in your veins, there’s something sobering about the cool ground against your hot skin and the way lucy hasn’t moved except for the occasional blinks.

“so,” lucy mumbles eventually. “that was the spores then..”

you let that linger, unsure if you want to tell her that it wasn’t just the spores. at least not for you.

“well,” she chuckles softly. “at least we won’t have to deal with that kind of pollen again! lesson learned!”

[clappingandcheering]

(Percy Jackson x Reader)

"Together Through It"

Warnings: Vomit, pregnancy.

Percy during your morning sickness, just being a sweetie pie.

The sun had barely risen over Camp Half-Blood, the first light creeping through the cabin window, painting everything in a soft golden hue. But the peaceful morning felt anything but serene as you lay in bed, your stomach twisting uneasily. Morning sickness had been a constant companion lately, and today it was making its presence known again.

You groaned quietly, pulling the covers tighter around you, hoping for a few more minutes of rest. But the nausea was insistent, and your body didn’t seem to care that it was still too early. You tried to sit up, but the moment you did, a wave of dizziness hit, and you barely had time to throw off the blanket before you rushed to the bathroom.

You hadn’t even fully made it when you felt the telltale surge, your stomach lurching violently. As you stumbled toward the toilet, trying to brace yourself, a familiar voice called out from behind you.

“Hey, you okay?” Percy’s voice was thick with sleep, but there was immediate concern as he rushed to your side.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, not quite convincing yourself. “Just… just the morning sickness again.”

But you didn’t have much time to finish your sentence. With a barely contained groan, you bent forward, and the wave of nausea overtook you again. You could feel Percy’s hands at your back, steadying you, and before you knew it, his warm hand was gently holding your hair back, keeping it out of your face.

“I swear, I don’t know how you manage all this,” Percy said softly, his voice tinged with both sympathy and admiration. His fingers ran through your hair gently, brushing it out of your face as you took another moment to breathe.

You could barely manage a weak laugh, wiping your mouth as you straightened up. “It’s the pregnancy. The whole ‘growing a tiny human’ thing isn’t as glamorous as they make it seem.”

Percy chuckled, the sound deep and warm, despite the situation. “Yeah, I don’t think anyone told me the ‘pregnancy glow’ came with, like, fifty pounds of nausea and constant trips to the bathroom.”

You smiled, turning to face him, his gentle touch still at your back as you steadied yourself. “Well, I guess they didn’t tell me about the constant ‘I feel like I’m dying’ moments either.” You leaned against the sink, looking up at him with a half-smile. “But it’s okay. We’ll get through it.”

“Of course we will.” Percy grinned, reaching over to hand you a glass of water. “I’m here for every single crazy moment of it. Even the ones that involve me holding your hair while you, uh, throw up.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, but the affection in his eyes made your heart flutter. “Well, when you put it like that, I feel so glamorous.”

He leaned against the doorframe, still watching you with a soft smile. “You always look glamorous to me.” His voice dropped, playful and tender. “I mean, who else could look this good even when they’re not feeling their best?”

You laughed weakly, sipping the water he’d handed you. “I don’t know if you’re just being nice, but I’ll take it. Thanks, Seaweed Brain.”

“You’re welcome, Wise Girl.” Percy winked at you, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “You want to take it easy today? I can totally skip training and just hang out with you, make sure you’re comfy.”

You leaned back against the sink, your shoulders relaxing under his gaze. “I don’t want to ruin your day with my… growing a person drama. You’re not getting out of training that easily.”

Percy made a mock pout, crossing his arms dramatically. “But it’s for you! I can’t have my girlfriend feeling sick while I’m off battling monsters. The only thing I want to fight right now is your nausea.”

You rolled your eyes, but the affection in your gaze said everything you couldn’t quite express. “I’ll survive, Percy. But I think I could use a nap and maybe some ice cream… and I wouldn’t mind some company while I do it.”

A grin spread across Percy’s face as he took a step closer, his arms opening wide. “Now, that’s a mission I can definitely get behind.” He pulled you into a gentle hug, his warmth spreading through you. “We can nap, have ice cream, and I’ll even let you pick the movie—just so long as it’s not another one of those cheesy rom-coms.”

You laughed, snuggling into his chest. “Deal. But I’m warning you, there’s no way around the rom-coms. It’s part of my pregnancy cravings now.”

Percy groaned dramatically. “I should’ve known. But hey, anything for you and our tiny human.” He placed a soft kiss on your forehead, his hand resting on your back as he pulled you close. “Besides, I get to be the one who spoils you, so I’m good with it.”

You smiled up at him, the nausea momentarily forgotten in the warmth of his embrace. “I’m lucky to have you.”

“You’re the lucky one, trust me.” Percy grinned, his eyes sparkling. “Now, come on. Let’s get you settled and find you some ice cream. Pregnancy cravings await!”

You couldn’t help but laugh as he guided you out of the bathroom, his arm wrapped around you, ready to tackle the day with you—nausea, cravings, and all. After all, with Percy by your side, you knew you could face anything, even the not-so-glamorous moments of pregnancy.

[vampiricstoryteller]

(Isn’t it) Obvious

Hello everyone 👋🏾 this is my first fanfic in a long long time but I love Richter and Annette so much I just had to write something for them. I’m hella rusty but I hope a few of you find some enjoyment with this one.

You can read it on A03 here

All mistakes are my own

Warning: smut, cursing

Annette could admit to herself that she’d thought about kissing Richter more than once. He was a lot of things but unattractive wasn’t one of them. The stupid Belmont boy was gorgeous, with his sapphire eyes and soft brown hair; of course the idea of putting her lips to his has often come to the front of her mind.

There’d been nights when she couldn’t sleep and the snores of everyone around her weren’t their usual soothing noises of companionship; they echoed in her eardrums and reminded her of how unsettled she still felt here. How lonely she was despite being a part of a vampire hunting group. It was maddening.

Until her thoughts inevitably drifted to Richter, as they usually did. Whether he was laying next to her on the cold ground in a bedroll or an entire room away, the mere knowledge that he was close by brought a small bit of peace to her clouded mind.

She would think about laughing at his dumb jokes, fetching water with him from the closest river, sparring with him because he wasn’t afraid to actually throw a punch towards her. He was exciting to her, he made the tips of her fingers and toes tingle. And the space between her thighs ache.

Annette is less willing to admit that she’s been touching herself to thoughts of Richter lately. For the last three nights in a row, her hand has slipped under the fabric of her night clothes and sought out the hidden nub that sends spikes of pleasure crawling up her spine.

It’s embarrassing.

But it’s also one of the best feelings she’s been able to give herself in a long time.

The implications of what that means, however, are always waiting for her when her chest has stopped heaving and there aren’t stars bursting in her eyes anymore. Subconsciously she agonized over the possibility that her growing fondness for Richter Belmont would expose a part of her she never let anyone see before.

It’s why she invites him to come back to Haiti with her, and it’s why she’s currently sat on a bed too small for the two of them, kissing him and doing her best to crawl into his lap.

The kisses started out innocent. At least on Richter’s end. They were a declaration of their feelings for each other. A confirmation that he actually liked her and wasn’t just all talk. But innocent wasn’t what Annette was looking for.

They survived that final fight. She was on her way home with him, he agreed to follow her anywhere. And now she wants to do everything with him.

Richter’s hands on her waist pull her from her thoughts, their lips are still moving together and his tongue seeks permission into her mouth. She grants it to him happily, a small whimper escaping her throat when he squeezes her side and shifts her onto her back.

She likes kissing Richter, a lot. But she likes the pressure of his body weight on top of her even more. Her legs come up, thighs encasing him tightly and her ankles hooking together at the small of his back.

He grunts in surprise, breaking their kiss to stare down her with wide eyes and a new blush on his cheeks.

Distantly, Edouard’s angelic voice echoes off the walls of the small cabin. She sets a reminder on her mental day to day list to do something nice for her friend in the coming days.

“Annette.”

His breath fans across her face, reminding her how close they are. She smiles up at him, twisting her fingers in his hair at the nape of his neck.

“Yes Richter?”

His lips twitch up when she says his name, a blush blossoming across his collarbone and neck; but he’s serious when he asks.

“You’re sure about this?” And then after a moment’s hesitation, “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

She has.

Once.

Back when she’d been enslaved. She’d done it because she’d been curious to know what all the fuss was about and why her friends would risk punishment to for it. Not to mention it was one less thing she’d have to worry about being taken from her.

At the time, it hadn’t been impressive enough for her to put effort into making it happen again. Escaping, revenge and vampire hunting took up too much of her time to worry about shared kisses and affection between bodies.

“Annette?”

She blinks back into focus, meeting Richter’s gaze which has become concerned.

“I have once,” she says with a soft nod. “When I was enslaved.”

Richter frowns and shifts most of his weight to his left hand, the right one cupping her face. His thumb strokes her cheek, the rough pad somehow soothing to her. His skin still feels too warm, but she knows if she brings it up he’ll just insist he’s fine so she leaves it for now.

“That…..wasn’t against your will was it?” Richter asks.

“No!” Annette exclaims, wanting to quell any rising qualms Richter might be having that he could, by proximity, be doing something she doesn’t like or want.

Her hands leave his hair in favor of his shoulders, the muscles are thick underneath her palms and Annette bites back a moan of appreciation.

“It wasn’t by force,” She says firmly looking up onto his blazing blue eyes. “I was lucky. It was with a boy I worked in the fields with, I wanted to get it out of the way so my first time wouldn’t be taken from me.”

Richter’s brow un-furrows a bit, he lowers down enough to kiss her again. This one soft and sweet.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs against her lips.

Annette smiles, kissing him harder and squeezing his hips with her thighs.

“Do not ruin the mood, Belmont.” She teases, satisfied when he laughs and doesn’t press farther about what things had been like for her before they’d met.

“Yes ma’am.” He grins and uses the hand holding her face to tilt her head back, exposing her neck to him.

His lips on her sensitive skin are like heaven, the sharp spike of his teeth nipping after every kiss makes Annette’s hips rock.

She runs a hand down his right arm, to join the one still holding her face. Slowly and purposefully Annette drags the large palm to her shoulder then collarbone, arching her back and sighing when he finally, finally, cups her breast through her top.

Richter squeezes, whether out of instinct or shock that he’s actually touching her Annette can’t be sure but she’s barely able to muffle the shout that tumbles from her mouth. She can feel him smirk against her neck, clearly pleased with the sounds he’s drawing from her.

Annette doesn’t care, each sharp wave of pleasure his hands are giving her is worth putting up with his growing ego.

“Richter.” She moans.

He crowds her against the bed, hand alternating between her breasts while his mouth suckles a bruise into the column of her neck and his hips ground into hers. Sweat gathers at the small of Annette’s back, her abdominal muscles burning as she holds the arch to keep as much of her body pressed against him as she can.

Her skirt is bunched at her hips, wrinkled between her and the bed from her insistent need to be moving with Richter. Despite the clothing between them, she can feel him growing harder every time they come in contact.

Richter’s nimble fingers pluck at the hem of her top questioningly, prompting Annette to nod and let her arms fall back onto the mattress above her head.

An open invitation.

His smile is practically blinding as he sits up just enough to hold his weight on his knees and place both hands on her waist. She stares at him while his thumbs stroke the smooth plains of her stomach, tilting her head curiously when suddenly a blush appears across his cheeks and chest.

“What are you thinking about?” She asks softly.

“How good I’m going to make you feel.” He rumbles, voice serious and low as he flexed his fingers, the tips digging slightly into her ribs.

Before she can think of a witty reply Richter slides his hands up, catching her top on the way and pushing it up over her head. He tugs it free of her arms, dropping the fabric to the floor; the soft thump of it hitting the ground is lost on Annette who can only focus on the sudden intensity of Richter’s gaze.

Heat burns at her cheeks and twists in her lower belly. She’s never been looked at like this before, the lustful adoration in his eyes makes her head spin.

“C-Can I touch you, Annette?”

She huffs, amused by him trying to remain respectful despite her bare breasts being on display and his hard dick straining his pants between her legs.

He’s adorable, but Annette needs more. She’s starting to crave it.

“I hope that’s the plan.” She snickers, hands finding his hair again. Scratching his scalp, she bites her lip. “Otherwise I’ve terribly misread the whole situation.”

Richter rolls his eyes, letting her pull him down into another kiss. His teeth meet her bottom lip and he nips at it playfully; two fingers finding one of her dark pebbled nipples and pinching.

Her eyes flutter shut, a breathless “yes!” racing from her mouth as she tugs on his hair.

It’s all the encouragement Richter needs.

Suddenly his hands are everywhere; kneading her beasts fully, gripping her chin to keep bring her in for sloppy kisses, squeezing her hips and petting her thighs. He bites at her neck, flicks his tongue along her collarbone, working his way down until he can suckle at her tawny brown nipples; lavishing them both with his tongue.

The sensation leaves Annette writhing and panting, she wants to wiggle away from the unrelenting pleasure but she also never wants Richter to stop what he’s doing.

He laps at the skin between her breasts, slicking it to the point it shines in the moonlight illuminating their cabin. At her hips, one of his hands pulls on the waistband of her skirt and Annette immediately lifts up to help him get the garment away from her body.

The oceanic breeze of the night air tickles her exposed flesh, cooling a bit of the humid haze she’d been drifting in. Annette blinks her eyes open, looking down to find Richter’s already staring at her; his pupils blown wide and near black with only a slim blue outer ring around his irises.

She traces his jaw line with her fingers, feeling his teeth clench together with restraint.

He looks hungry.

For nourishment she’s certain only she can provide.

Annette bites her lip hard at the thought, her legs falling open a bit to give him more room. They hold each other’s gaze while his fingers dance at her hip, dragging along the creased apex of her thigh.

He pauses, just before his searching fingers can make contact with the place she wants him most. She thinks he’s about to ask her if she’s okay or if he’s allowed to touch her but the Belmont boy surprises her once again. He simply grins at her, kisses her sternum and slips a finger between her soaking folds.

Annette chokes out a moan, her chest heaving as she sucks in a hard breath and her heels dig into the small of Richter’s back. She’s already embarrassingly wet, his long finger stroking from the bundle of nerves at the top down to her aching core over and over until she’s thrashing against him.

“R-Richter—please!”

She’s too far gone to care that she’s whining nor does she care that above her the object of her obvious distress only chuckles and presses a kiss to her clammy forehead.

“Please what?” He asks, watching her face intently. “Tell me what you want, Annette.”

This time her whine is unintelligible, a garbled mess of pleading that she can’t control. But it’s enough for him to grant her reprieve, the tip of his finger taps her opening—once—twice—and then he pushes the obscenely long digit inside of her and Annette shouts.

Her head falls back onto the mattress, her nails scratching at his sides and she tightens around him, already needing more. Richter growls, his finger stroking with the pace of her rocking hips,

“You’re sucking me right in, baby.” He whispers to her, a secret between them that is theirs only.

She whimpers, the sharpest spike of pleasure yet streaks down her spine and settles in her hips. No one has ever called her that before, there’s never been anyone she wanted to think they could have the privilege.

Though Richter is not like anyone else she’s ever met.

He pushes a second finger into her, a much tighter fit but an even better feeling. Annette grinds her hips into his hand without shame, shivering each time the heel of his palm bumps her slippery clit.

Impatience edges into Annette’s mind, her hands reaching down and pushes at the sleep pants he’d just changed into.

“Ta-Take these off,” she whimpers, one hand managing to shove the left side of his pants down his narrow hips.

Richter huffs out a laugh, slowly pulling his fingers from her and sitting up onto his knees. The movement forces her legs to fall open on either side of him, leaving her feeling exposed in a whole new way. Annette’s face burns and instinctively she tries to draw her knees together.

“Well now, that won’t do.” Richter says casually as he shoves his pants down his thighs before kicking them off onto the floor.

He hooks a hand under the crook of her left knee and tugs it out to the side, opening her back up to him.

“You’re beautiful, Annette.” He says sincerely, licking his lips as he settles back between her thighs. “Don’t ever hide from me.”

This time without his pants to keep him trapped against his own leg, his dick is hot and heavy dragging against her inner thigh. Annette slips one hand between them, her slender fingers wrapping around his shaft experimentally.

It’s Richter’s turn to shout, hips jerking when her thumb swipes at the pre cum leaking from his tip and smears it all over the head. Stroking him and twisting her hand at the same time, Annette works him until he’s painfully hard and throbbing in her hand.

She lifts her hips, hoping to guide him to the place she needs him to fill.

“Annette, baby, wait—.”

She smirks up at him, though her hand does go still.

“You have done this before right?” She teases, chuckling at the affronted look he gives her.

“I’m a Belmont, of course I have.” He grins for a moment then says a bit breathlessly. “It’s just never been with someone I cared this much about.”

One of his hands grips her side, the thumb stretching out to her belly button.

“I want this to be good for you, you deserve to feel good.” He tilts his head, eyes looking her entire body over. “You’re so small, I don’t want to hurt you.”

Annette isn’t expecting him to be that honest, especially not now when they’re moments away from their first becoming one. Another emotion spreads through her, not lust and not impatience but a new one that she’s not sure she’s ever felt before.

It’s in this moment that Annette realizes, she loves him.

She loved Richter Belmont, so much that her soul feels ablaze. She wants to scream from the bow of the ship up to the heavens that she has finally fallen in love. And it feels exactly the way her mother told her it would.

Safe.

Exciting.

Like home.

He is her home and she never wants to leave or be without him.

“Richter.” Her voice is soft and lightly. “I know you’d never hurt me, I trust you.”

She releases the grip she has on his, from what she can see, very pretty dick and plants that hand on his chest while the other cards through his soft hair.

“I want to do this with you, I want to feel good with you.” She says firmly. “Do you want to feel good with me?”

Richter nods, desperation filling the lines of his face as he kisses her cheeks, her nose, her chin and then finally slanted his lips over hers.

This kiss is different. His lips devour hers, nipping at her bottom one in a way that twists her hips and curls her toes. The passion he’s pouring into her feels different, it’s a promise, a dedication. To her. To them. To whatever they’re about to build together.

When Richter breaks for air, Annette lets her eyes flutter open and sucks in a sharp breath at the look of pure adoration in his eyes. If she didn’t know better, she would think she created the moon, the stars and the sky.

“I only want you,” he whispers into her mouth, lips tickling hers with the movement of each word. “In this life and the next and the one after. I want to be with you forever Annette.”

She smiles, “Good, because I really need you inside of me right now.”

Richter nods, kissing her again and adjusting their bodies so he can reach down between them. Supporting most of his weight on his forearm near Annette’s head, his fingers glide through her slick for a moment, collecting some of it to spread around the fat mushroom head before he takes hold of himself and lines the tip up, nestling it at her sopping wet opening.

Annette’s eyes slam shut and she pulls back to choke out a moan at the feeling just the tip has ignited inside of her. Above her, Richter stills and she thinks she might sob if he starts to move away.

Her hands fly up to the space where his shoulders and neck meet, the column thick between her hands.

“No Richter, don’t stop.” She wiggles her hips in an attempt to take him deeper, but his hand comes to rest over her lower stomach; effectively holding her in place with ease.

“Annette,” his breathing is labored, her name sounding rough in his throat. “Open your eyes.”

Above her head, his fingers twirl some of her individual locs and stroke at her scalp; Annette can’t help but to push her head up into his touch as she blinks up at him.

She’s never seen Richter look at anyone or anything the way he’s staring down at her now. His sapphire eyes are burning into her very soul, she is the sun and he is ready to pray to her for the rest of his life.

Annette licks her lips, pleased that his eyes tick down and follow the movement of her tongue, then says.

“If you stop now, Belmont, I will never forgive you.”

He laughs breathlessly, nodding. “I wouldn’t forgive me if I stopped right now either.” His finger tips massage her scalp, finding space in the new growth to really put pressure down and ground her.

Annette keens up into the feeling, a pretty groan of appreciation on her tongue.

His hand holding her still at the hips smoothes back around to the outer side of her thigh, gripping the flesh. Richter ducks his head, kissing her and holding her gaze as he murmurs into her mouth,

“Take a deep breath, baby.”

She does as he says without a second thought, gulping for air that he’s breathing into her. Richter smiles, rocking his hips forward and in the same motion, tugs her down onto his shaft slowly.

The feeling is delicious.

The stretch of his dick sliding into her cunt is exquisite, curling her toes and exploding stars in her vision. She’s barely aware of how her nails take down his neck and over his chest, leaving trails of red lines on his pale skin.

“R-Richter.”

He groans in response, his eyes closed and the tip of his tongue pressing into his top lip in concentration. Annette’s sure he’s never looked more beautiful than he does now. She clenches around him when he finally bottoms out, his hips meeting the back of her thighs.

“Fu—Fuck.”

Richter’s thrust start out tentative, his hips rolling experimentally and Annette finds herself lifting her own hips to meet him. Her arms wrap around his neck, holding him down so their chests are pressed together tightly. She rests her cheek against his and Annette darts her tongue out to lick at his ear.

“Please go faster, Richter.” She whines, digging her heels into his ass. “Please!”

Now confident, his hips pick up speed and the hand on her meaty thigh squeezes even tighter. Annette’s spine tingles at the thought of there being finger shaped bruises under her clothing tomorrow.

She clings to Richter as if he is her only life force, right now it feels like he is. The steady drag and pull of him inside her threatens to drive her insane, but Annette is happy to go there if it means keeping this feeling with him alive.

Richter sits back suddenly, onto his knees and the hand that was buried in her hair finds new purchase on her unattended thigh. He holds her open, his thrusts deep, hard and powerful; jerking her body back and forth along the bed.

“Annette,” he growls out, grunting in effort to not lose his rhythm. “You feel, so—so fucking good, squeezing me so tight.”

She nearly arched completely off the bed, his words stroking a very specific part of her brain. Digging her nails into the well carved muscles of his stomach, Annette closes her eyes and loses herself in the sensations.

“Richter!” She pants, eyes rolling in her head. “Don’t stop, please!”

“I won’t, baby.” He promises. “I’ll never stop.”

One hand leaves her thigh, his thumb finding her now puffy clit and strums it with intent, his hips keeping pace as he pounds into Annette.

She chants his name like a pray, one for every time his cock rams so deep inside of her she would swear she could feel him in her stomach. There’s a coil there, curling tighter towards her spine and Annette clamps around Richter in the hopes he can tap the right button that’ll give her what she wants.

He twists his hips down on the next few thrusts and Annette bites into his neck to muffle her scream as she explodes. She goes momentarily deaf, her body and cunt spasming while Richter works her through the life changing pleasure thats rippling through her entire body.

Every muscle she has is taunt and for a split moment Annette thinks his thrusts are going to snap her in half. And she would welcome that sensation with open arms.

Richter’s lips on hers brings her hearing back, the bed beneath them creaks steadily and their skin clapping together bounces off the walls. He licks inside of her mouth, his breath hot and ragged as he chases after the completion she just reached.

Annette holds him tighter, whimpering and mewling at a pitch she knows will root in his brain. Richter moans, losing the rhythm and his thrusts becoming erratic.

“Richter—“

He nudges her head to the side, sweat from his brow smearing against her temple.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, baby.” He hisses, teeth clenched and his jaw strained, “I love you, Annette, I love you.”

Their hips meet hard three more times, the force jarring hiccup like moans out of her throat but Annette only care about riding out the spikes of unmeasurable pleasure that zip up and down her body.

Richter shudders above her, a roar erupting from his throat as he grinds into her with every last bit of strength he has. Annette whimpers, her face heating at the feeling of Richter’s cum flooding her with warm from the inside.

She watched him with half lidded eyes and massaging at the bite mark shes left in his skin. He slowly lowers down to rest on his elbows and hover over her, his blue eyes blinking open to look hazily down at her.

“A-Are you o-okay?” He asks panting.

She nods, offering him a smile as they both let their chests heave together;

“I’m great.” Annette confirms, lifting her head and kissing him sweetly. “Are you?”

Richter laughs, his eyes scanning her face a few times. “I think I had just had the best sex of my life.”

She bites her lip to keep her laughter contained. “Thats high praise indeed coming from you, Belmont.”

“It is, isn’t it?” He teases, kissing her cheek before he gently tilts her head by her chin and connects their lips again.

They only pull apart when Richter’s weight begins to numb Annette’s hips and torso, both of them shivering when he shuffles back and slips out of her completely.

Using the edge of the blanket hanging off the bed, Richter gently wipes away the mess he’s made between her thighs; the movement gently and caring.

They settle in the bed facing each other. The steady rock of the ocean and the waves crashing together lulls the two lovers into a comfortable silence.

Her fingers thread together at the nape of his neck, arms bent so he’s pulled close. His massive hands holding her waist, the weight of them on her more comforting to Annette than she ever thought possible.

Richter kisses her, exhaustion starting to sag his body into the mattress but his eyes remain open. She strokes his head with her thumbs, smiling at him when it’s clear he intends to fall asleep staring at her.

“So,” she whispers, seconds before they drifts off completely. “You love me, do you?”

His lips twitch up into a smile. Squeezing her sides, he nods sleepily. “Wasn’t it obvious?” He mumbles, kissing the tip of her nose. “I’m all yours.”

The End

🫣 hope y’all liked it, pls like and reblog if you did ❤️

[al-1-na]

𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 ~ 𝟓

❦❦❦❦❦❦❦❦

❦❦❦❦❦❦❦❦

The first year in New York had been a whirlwind—full of challenges, love, and growth. Drew’s off-Broadway production had been a hit, earning him glowing reviews and even a few new opportunities. Your career had reached new heights, and for a while, it felt like everything was finally falling into place.

But slowly, cracks began to form in the life you’d built together.

It started with small things. Drew would come home late from rehearsals, drained from the grind of live performances, and crash onto the couch without saying much. You noticed how the city you once loved—the energy, the chaos—seemed to weigh heavier on you with each passing day. Even weekends together felt rushed, as if you were constantly trying to catch your breath.

One night, as you lay in bed, Drew spoke into the quiet.

“Do you ever feel like… we’re just surviving here?”

You turned to look at him, surprised. “What do you mean?”

He stared at the ceiling, his hand resting on yours. “I love being with you, but this city—it’s exhausting. Every day feels like a battle. And I don’t know if it’s worth it anymore.”

His words hit a nerve you hadn’t admitted to yourself. New York had been your dream for so long, but lately, it felt more like a weight than a joy. You’d brushed it off as temporary, as something you’d adjust to, but deep down, you knew Drew was right.

“I’ve been feeling that way, too,” you admitted softly.

Drew turned to you, his blue eyes searching yours. “Then maybe it’s time for a change.”

A few weeks later, the opportunity presented itself.

You’d applied for a position at a production company in Los Angeles on a whim, not expecting anything to come of it. But when the offer came—a dream role with better hours, better pay, and a fresh start—you knew it was a sign.

“I got the job,” you told Drew one evening, your voice trembling with a mix of excitement and fear.

He looked up from his script, his eyes lighting up. “You’re kidding. That’s amazing!”

“But it’s in L.A.,” you added, your voice quieter now. “I’d have to move.”

Drew set the script down and crossed the room, pulling you into his arms. “Then we’ll move.”

You blinked up at him, surprised. “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips. “I’ve been thinking about it, anyway. Most of my work is out there now, and honestly? I’m ready to leave New York behind if it means being with you. This city isn’t our forever.”

Tears pricked your eyes as you leaned into him. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Let’s start over—together.”

The move to Los Angeles felt like a breath of fresh air.

You and Drew found a small house on the west side, tucked away on a quiet street with a lemon tree in the backyard. It wasn’t much, but it was yours, and for the first time in years, you felt like you could finally exhale.

Drew thrived in L.A., landing a role in a new streaming series that allowed him to work steadily without the relentless pressure of stage performances. You loved your new job, and the flexible hours meant you could spend more time together, exploring the city and building a life that felt right.

Evenings were spent cooking dinner in your tiny kitchen, dancing barefoot to old records, and talking about everything and nothing. Weekends meant hikes in the hills, lazy beach days, and impromptu road trips up the coast.

One night, as you sat on the patio under the soft glow of string lights, Drew handed you a glass of wine and sat beside you, his arm draped around your shoulders.

“Do you ever think about how far we’ve come?” he asked, his voice thoughtful.

You smiled, leaning your head against his chest. “All the time. Sometimes it feels like we’ve lived a dozen lives just to get here.”

Drew tilted your chin up, his eyes locked on yours. “I’m glad we did. Every mistake, every detour—it all led me back to you.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you cupped his face, your thumb brushing over his cheek. “I’m glad, too. I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else.”

He kissed you then, slow and sweet, as if to seal the promise you’d made to each other.

Months turned into a year, and your life in L.A. grew fuller with each passing day. The house felt more like home, filled with laughter, love, and the occasional burnt dinner. You and Drew had found your forever—not in a city, but in each other.

One evening, as the sun set over the Pacific, you stood on the beach together, the waves lapping at your feet. Drew slipped his hand into yours, his fingers warm and familiar.

“I know we’ve talked about not rushing things,” he said, his voice steady. “But I can’t wait anymore.”

You turned to him, your heart pounding as he dropped to one knee, a small velvet box in his hand.

“Y/N, you’re my best friend, my partner, and the love of my life. I want to keep building this crazy, beautiful life with you—forever. Will you marry me?”

Tears streamed down your face as you nodded, your voice breaking. “Yes. A million times, yes.”

Drew slipped the ring onto your finger and stood, pulling you into his arms as the crowd around you cheered.

And as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold, you knew this was it.

❦❦❦❦❦❦❦❦

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @maybanksgirl69 @raeven-marie43 @niktwazny303

[wonboni]

CUPID➶ Y.JUNGWON

∝cupid is so dumb

『•˙synopsis: even after endless of hints your best friend still can’t seem to know that you like him.

『∙˙pairing: bsf! Yang jungwon x fem reader

『•˙genre: fluff,crack,best friends to lovers,a tiny bit of angst

『•˙word count: 1.3k

『•˙warnings: jungwon is clueless,reader is kinda hurt

『•˙note: jungwon is so cute in these pics

It’s a familiar kind of agony. A slow, sweet kind of pain that begins in your chest, spreads up your throat, and lodges itself in your head like an annoying song on repeat. You, of course, know exactly what’s going on. You’ve known for months, maybe longer, and yet—despite the loud, blaring signals you've been sending—you’re still stuck in this strange, frustrating limbo.

You’re in love with your best friend, Yang Jungwon. But the worst part? He’s completely and utterly clueless.

It all started innocently enough. The two of you were just two souls thrown together by fate, surviving high school with nothing but each other. Your days were spent with inside jokes, shared glances, and too many hours of studying together. But somewhere between laughing over silly memes and walking home from school, you started noticing little things. The way Jungwon smiled at you, the way his eyes lit up whenever you spoke, the way his voice always softened when he called your name.

And that was when you knew. You were in love with him.

But there was one big problem. Jungwon, your oblivious, socially dense best friend, had absolutely no idea.

At first, you tried to convince yourself that he might just be shy. Maybe he was waiting for you to make the first move. So, you dropped hints—big ones, small ones, subtle ones, and blatant ones—but it was as though you were speaking in a language he couldn’t understand.

---

It was a typical afternoon when the latest disaster occurred. You and Jungwon were sitting in your favorite spot at the local café, slouched over a pair of textbooks. You weren’t really studying, though; you were too busy focusing on the way his fingers absentmindedly tapped the table, how his messy hair framed his face perfectly, and how his lips... Oh, his lips.

You couldn’t help but stare. Maybe you could’ve sworn you were being subtle about it, but honestly, your heart was in your throat, and your stomach was doing flips.

"Hey," you said, your voice slightly wobbly. "Do you think we’d look good together?" You immediately winced at your own words. Was that too forward?

Jungwon didn’t even look up. Instead, he continued scribbling on his notebook, his brow furrowing in concentration.

“Look good together… like, as study partners?” he asked, looking so genuinely confused you almost choked on your own breath.

You blinked. Was that seriously his response? "No," you said, trying to keep your voice calm. "Like… together. As a couple."

Jungwon paused. For a moment, his eyes locked onto yours, his expression unreadable. Then, with all the seriousness of a boy trying to solve a math problem, he scratched his head.

"I don’t know. I mean, we’d probably make a pretty good team, right?" He laughed awkwardly, as if the very idea of the two of you being together was as natural as teaming up for a project.

Your heart plummeted.

"Yeah, we would," you said with a strained smile, hoping he didn’t see the hurt in your eyes.

He didn’t. Of course, he didn’t.

---

Later that evening, as you walked home together, you couldn’t help but feel defeated. Jungwon was humming something, happily oblivious to your inner turmoil. You wanted to scream at him, ask him why he couldn’t just *get it*, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t risk losing your friendship. Not when the thought of him in any other capacity was so far out of reach.

You were just... stuck.

“I don’t get it,” you muttered under your breath, almost too quietly for him to hear.

“What’s that?” Jungwon asked, not even turning to look at you.

You shook your head. “Never mind.”

“Come on, you can tell me,” he said with that warm smile of his, the one that always made your heart do somersaults. “You know I’m always here to listen.”

It took everything in you not to spill your feelings right then and there. You could already picture it—his confusion, his awkward silence, the way he would likely laugh it off like some joke. So, instead, you let out a bitter laugh and gave him a small, nonchalant wave.

“Just thinking about how ridiculous I am sometimes.”

“Hey, stop that.” Jungwon nudged your shoulder with his. “You’re not ridiculous.”

You stared straight ahead, not daring to meet his eyes. “Yeah, I am.”

The silence that followed wasn’t heavy, but it was painfully telling.

---

A week passed, and Jungwon’s cluelessness only grew more pronounced. In fact, you were beginning to wonder if he was living in a different dimension entirely. There was one instance where you thought for sure he would catch on.

You were walking home from school together again, and the air was getting colder. Your hands were frozen in your pockets, and you decided to try one more last-ditch effort.

“Jungwon,” you began, trying to keep your voice steady, “What would you do if someone confessed to you?”

He looked at you, raising an eyebrow. “Like... a confession confession?”

“Yeah,” you said, playing it cool. “Like, if someone told you they liked you, what would you do?”

He scratched the back of his neck thoughtfully. “I don’t know... depends on who it is, I guess.”

Your stomach flipped. You could feel your heartbeat rising. This was it. The moment you’d been waiting for.

You pushed yourself to ask, “What if it was... someone you really liked?”

Jungwon blinked at you, then let out a small, nervous laugh. “I’d probably ask them if they were sure, and if they were, then… I guess I’d go for it?” He gave you a confused smile. “Why do you ask?”

Your heart sank. “Oh, no reason.”

---

Finally, one evening, as the two of you sat on the couch in your living room, Netflix playing in the background but neither of you paying attention, you decided to confront it head-on. You were tired of playing this foolish game. Tired of wondering, *What if?*

“Jungwon,” you said, voice small but determined. “I have to tell you something.”

He paused the video, turning to face you with a look of concern in his eyes. “What is it?”

You bit your lip. This was it. You had to say it. You had to say the words that had been swirling in your heart for so long.

“I like you,” you whispered, hoping the weight of the confession would finally force him to see what had been right in front of him the whole time.

Jungwon blinked, his eyes widening as though he hadn’t expected this at all. Then, without skipping a beat, he smiled that ridiculous, adorable smile of his and said, “Of course you do! You’re my best friend. I like you too. We’ve been friends forever!”

You froze. “No, no, Jungwon. I mean I like *like* you. Like, in a way more than friends.”

For a moment, he stared at you, utterly dumbfounded. Then the gears in his brain started to turn. His mouth opened, closed, then opened again.

“Wait… like, *that* kind of like?” he stammered, his face now flushed pink.

You nodded, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and hope. “Yeah. That kind of like.”

Jungwon’s eyes widened further, and then—finally, after what felt like an eternity—he grinned, a mischievous glint appearing in his eyes.

“Wait, so... this whole time? When you kept dropping hints... you were serious?” He burst out laughing, shaking his head in disbelief. “I thought you were just messing with me!”

“Jungwon!” you groaned, face burning. “You’re impossible!”

But Jungwon only chuckled and scooted closer to you, his expression softening into something much more tender. “I guess I’m kind of an idiot,” he admitted, “But... I think I like you, too.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

“You do?”

“Yeah, I do.” He smiled, his usual playful demeanor now replaced by something far more sincere. “Guess we’re both fools for love, huh?”

And just like that, the game was over.

And you, for the first time in what felt like forever, could finally breathe.

©️ WONIBONI

[tarraxahum]

This was gonna be a reply to a reply but I thought maybe I should just make my own post. Yes this is about Vi again.

It's no secret that "Vi should've fought for Zaun" and the expectation of her being Vander's prodigy and feeling like the plot dropped the ball on her in that regard and the betrayal at the fact that she's living comfortably in Piltover now are. Frequent sentiments in the fandom. Which I get, but also I feel that this line of expectations is. Diverging from who Vi actually is by the end and what she was realistically capable of.

Vi in season 2 is basically running on fumes and because she has no other options. It is a well known thing in irl activist spaces that to participate in any kind of fight for justice you need to take care of yourself, otherwise you won't have the energy to be any kind of useful to your community. Ekko also says this - "It's not enough to give people what they need to survive, you have to give them what they need to live". Vi has been surviving and not living in any shape or form for years, she's exhausted and broken in places. That's no mental state to fight for Zaun or make any kinda change. I think it's extremely realistic and human and hardly a flaw of writing or the character if by the end the only thing she was able to do was collapse into the safety and peace she was offered for the first time in forever (aka Caitlyn). It's clear that in her last scene she's still recovering mentally - Cait seems to be excited to have any sign of life (singing) from her at all, and the "Are you still in this fight?" question is very loaded. (But it's indicated that Vi is very much still in the fight, so? It's really anyone's guess what she'll do once she's healed and remembers how to live. And don't bring up LoL's Vi brutality thing, it's clear they're different characters).

I think in wanting to see Vi stand up for Zaun or be Vander's prodigy we often deny her the flaw of being a breakable human and forget just how much she's held together by duct tape. Just because she was full of this 'fuck Piltover' fire as a kid doesn't mean she is still capable of matching that energy. Sometimes after lots of trauma humans grow up into tired adults who just want to sit down and feel safe regardless of where it happens and how questionable it might look (re: living in Piltover). Not to mention, that even as a child Vi's main reason for fuming at the Topside was wanting safety for her family and herself. Well, now she's all out of family, she's estranged from the community of Zaun thanks to being in prison for 7 years and Silco changing the place so much, and the only person who's offering her safety and not more fighting (which she's exhausted and thoroughly burnt out from!) is Caitlyn, so. How is where she ended up any kind of surprising or a failure of her writing/character?

Yes, a lot of people wanted a revolutionary, no, Vi isn't one. Dare I say, never really was one. At her lowest, when she's got no one left to protect, she's not trying to fill in that void by taking on protecting Zaun and becoming a vigilante or something, no, she spirals. That is not something on her radar, that's not something she's visibly cut out to do, she cares so so much but on a smaller scale. Even the whole shimmer factory debacle was less about Zaun and more about her desire to hurt Silco personally for what he'd done to her family. If Jinx agreed to run away with her back at the tea party Vi would ditch the entirety of Zaun (potentially leaving it to Silco forever since he's still alive at that point) in a heartbeat to keep her sister and save Cait in one move. She puts on an enforcer uniform BECAUSE she cares for Jinx (through convincing herself that at the very least she should take her out of her misery herself rather than leaving it to people who don't care, yes) and Cait both.

Perhaps a hot take, but not becoming a leader despite being good at taking hits to the head and caring about people in general and being a daughter of one does not make Vi a badly written character or a bad person. It just makes her a person. And a character whose arc culminated in choosing herself. And choosing yourself sometimes means leaving the fight to others (perhaps temporarily, considering the final dialogue). And that's okay.

Arcane is tragedy about flawed people, not a feel-good story about a successful revolution and rich people paying for their crap, and it was never going to be. Ergo one of our main character isn't an upcoming hero in shining armor who was allegedly robbed of her potential. She's just a broken young woman who barely knows how to keep her own little life together and her biggest victory by the end is allowing herself to take a breath and live for once. Yes, while her home down there is still in shambles. Yes, that sounds selfish. For some people a bit of selfishness is the greatest thing they can ever learn for themselves.

[boldchaoswhite]

Ominis Gaunt HCs

𝐇𝐞𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐲! 𝐒𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐇𝐂𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐎𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬!

(Don't come for me if you don't agree with some of them, these are just how I think he would be like.) These aren't really categorized (Sorry, I tried to categorize them but some are in the wrong spots but i don't really care these came out over time and got posted here.) Sebastian's are here! Divider by: @cafekitsune Enjoy!

In General:

Ominis loves the sound of your heartbeat. Sometimes, he’ll lay his head against your chest, letting the steady rhythm soothe him. 

The idea of him opting out of using his wand as an excuse to feel your touch is so cute to me! Sometimes he occasionally ‘forgets’ his wand somewhere and asks you to lead him, especially if it’s been a long day, and he just needs comfort.

He likes to squeeze your hand twice for yes and once for no if you’re hesitant on saying yes or no for something, because he likes to help guide you and stuff that you’re hesitant about if you are hesitant about stuff like that, it’s his way of helping you since you ‘help’ him. 

And sometimes. (Sometimes meaning like 5% lol) he will be the type to make little grabby hands but only when it’s around you two cause he really really wants to feel your hands or like feel somewhere on your body and it’s just so adorable that you can’t say no.

He knows exactly where his food is but loves pretending he’s helpless just to get you to guide his hand or feed him. Sometimes, he’ll dramatically sigh and say, “Oh no, I’ve completely missed my plate. I am in desperate need of help.” with a cheeky grin.

When you do help him, (yet, you will have a smile/annoyed look on your face) he’ll have the BIGGEST SMILE on his face and say something like, “Ah, my savior. How would I survive without you?” (Now THAT would make you blush and smile.) 

Sometimes, if he’s feeling overwhelmed or overstimulated, he’ll sit close to you and lean his head against your shoulder, staying completely silent but finding peace in your presence.

When he senses you’re upset, he will pull you into his lap, sit you between his legs, and he’ll cup your face in his hands; thumbs brushing gently over your cheeks.

“Talk to me,” his voice was low and earnest. If you can’t find the words, he’ll just hold you like that, forehead resting against yours, his silence speaking volumes.

Ominis has a way of saying your name that makes it sound like poetry. When he’s feeling extra affectionate, he’ll pull you close and murmur it softly, over and over, like it’s his favorite word in the world.

Ominis sometimes unconsciously seeks you out in his sleep. Whether it’s his hand resting on yours or his body curling around you, he always finds a way to stay connected. 

One night, you woke up to him softly mumbling your name, his hand searching for yours. When you laced your fingers together, he relaxed instantly, a small smile tugging at his lips even in his sleep.

He’ll ask you to describe things to him (not just the physical, but the emotional.) “What does the sunset look like today? How does it make you feel?” Your words paint vivid pictures for him, and he hangs onto every detail.

You’ll make a genuine effort to describe things for him, but sometimes you get too flustered and stumble over your words. “It’s, um… it’s like a sunset, but with… more gold? And, uh… less red?” He finds your attempts adorable and will encourage you with a smile: “I’m sure it’s beautiful. You’re doing great.”

Ominis has a habit of playing with your hands absentmindedly, rubbing circles into your palms or interlacing your fingers with his. “Your hands feel like home,” he confesses one day, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “They’re the one place I always want to be.”

Ominis has a memory like a vault when it comes to you. He remembers the smallest details—your favorite scent, the way you hum when you’re thinking, the way your hand feels in his. 

When you’re not around, Ominis lights up whenever someone mentions your name. He can’t help but gush about you, his voice soft and full of admiration. 

Ominis sometimes has moments of insecurity where he worries he’s holding you back. “You deserve someone who can give you everything,” he admits quietly, his grip on your hand tightening. When you reassure him, he pulls you into his arms, burying his face in your shoulder.

Ominis isn’t the type to make a big scene, but if someone so much as raises their voice at you, his usually calm demeanor turns ice cold. He’ll step closer to you, his brows furrowed, and his voice will lower to a dangerously/cold calm tone.

When he senses someone’s making you uncomfortable, his entire body shifts to protect you. He’ll place a hand on your arm, stepping slightly in front of you as if to block you from harm. His voice becomes firm, but his touch remains gentle.

If he ever has to step in to protect you, he worries you might be upset by his intensity.

If Sebastian ever teases you a little too harshly, Ominis won’t hesitate to cut him off with a sharp, “That’s enough, Sebastian.” He knows it’s all in good fun, but he doesn’t tolerate anyone—even his closest friend—making you uncomfortable.

If you’re hurt or in danger, Ominis doesn’t hold back his fear. He’ll frantically call your name, his wand shaking in his hand as he tries to find you. 

If his family ever disrespects or threatens you, Ominis is unrelenting. He’ll face them head-on, his tone sharp and unyielding. “You will not speak to them that way,” he’ll say, his usually soft voice full of steel. For you, he’s willing to risk everything, even the wrath of the Gaunt name

His protectiveness stems from the deep fear of losing you. He’s seen how cruel the world can be and is determined to shield you from it.

You’ll occasionally say things like, “Look at that!” or “Did you see what I just did?” before realizing and awkwardly backtracking. Ominis will just smirk and tease you: “Ah, yes, I saw it perfectly. The visuals were stunning.”

When you slip up and he teases you, you’ll pout and say, “I’m trying, okay? My brain moves faster than my mouth sometimes!” Ominis will gently take your hand, squeeze it, and say, “I know. And I love that you try.”

Despite your occasional slips, Ominis never gets upset because he knows you’re coming from a place of love and care.

You always try to include him in visual experiences, even if it means getting creative. During fireworks, you’ll press his hand against your chest so he can feel your heartbeat race as you describe the colors and shapes in vivid detail.

Whenever you get flustered about forgetting, he’ll teasingly say, “If you keep apologizing, I might start to think you enjoy feeling guilty.” His lightheartedness helps you laugh it off and move on.

Ominis loves that you don’t treat his blindness as a limitation. “You make me feel normal,” he’ll admit one day, his voice soft. “Like I’m not defined by what I can’t see.”

Ominis once told you, “I don’t care if you forget sometimes. It just means you’re focused on what’s important—us.”

You’re his biggest supporter, always encouraging him to step outside his comfort zone while never pushing too hard. “I know you can do this,” you’ll say softly, squeezing his hand. “And if you need me, I’ll be right here.”

Ominis sometimes worries that his blindness makes people overlook him, but you see him for who he truly is. You’ll whisper, “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met,” and he knows you’re not just talking about his looks—you see his heart and soul.

You know how deeply he feels, so you’re careful with his emotions. You never take his love for granted and always make an effort to show him how much he means to you, whether it’s through words, actions, or simply being there when he needs you.

Even though he knows he can’t see, he still turns his head toward your voice or where he senses you might be, almost as if willing himself to see you. It breaks your heart a little every time, so you make sure to let him know you’re there by gently touching his arm or hand.

When you speak, he often tilts his head slightly, as if leaning closer to the sound of your words. It’s a subtle habit, but one that makes you feel like he’s giving you his full attention, even when he’s surrounded by distractions.

Whenever he successfully locates you by sound or instinct, he gives a small, triumphant smile. “Found you,” he’ll say softly, as if it’s a little victory.

Sometimes when you see his face, he has a big smile on his face from finding you, and you always think it's adorable.

He’s attuned to the way you move—the sound of your footsteps, the swish of your robes, even the rhythm of your breathing. He uses these cues to orient himself toward you, and it makes him feel comforted to know exactly where you are.

He’s memorized the sound of your movements so well that he can sometimes predict what you’re doing. “You’re pacing again,” he’ll say with a small smile, even when you haven’t said a word.

The Feels!

There are moments when he sits quietly, his head turned slightly in your direction, and you can tell he’s imagining what you look like.

Sometimes he gets frustrated, not with you, but with himself for not being able to do things as easily as he’d like. On rare occasions, he’ll mutter, “I just wish I could look at you without having to ask where you are.” You’re quick to reassure him, holding his face gently and reminding him that he’s perfect just the way he is.

If he’s in a noisy or chaotic environment, he’ll instinctively reach for you. The sound of your voice and the touch of your hand become his anchor, calming him when everything else feels too much.

Sometimes, late at night, he’ll confess quietly, “I hate that I can’t see you. I want to know the color of your eyes when you’re happy or the way your face looks when you laugh.” He feels like he’s missing out on such an important part of loving you, and it eats at him more than he lets on.

Even though he’s fiercely independent, there are moments when his blindness frustrates him to the point of despair. He’ll sit in silence, gripping his wand tightly, feeling like a burden for needing help sometimes.

Ominis struggles with feeling like he deserves happiness. 

“Why would someone like you love someone like me?” he’s asked, his voice full of disbelief and sadness. No matter how much you reassure him, part of him always wonders if you’d be happier with someone else.

Growing up in the Gaunt family was isolating and terrifying. He rarely talks about it, but when he does, the pain is palpable. “I used to sit in my room for hours, hoping someone would come looking for me,” he admits. “No one ever did.”

(this one is a big SOMETIMES for me. It just came across in a dream I had a while ago…)While he appreciates your help, he despises being pitied. The thought of anyone, even you, seeing him as weak or incapable cuts him deeply. If he senses even a hint of pity in your tone, he’ll withdraw and put up a wall, retreating into himself.

He’s overheard whispers from other students calling him “the blind Gaunt” or making cruel jokes about his disability. He doesn’t let on that it bothers him, but you can tell by the tightness in his jaw and the way he holds his wand a little too tightly.

The extra feels:

During moments of deep insecurity, he might push you away, thinking it’s for your own good. “You don’t need to waste your life taking care of me,” he says, his words cold but his heart shattering.

In crowded spaces, he can’t always keep track of where you are. The panic of losing you in a sea of voices is overwhelming, and when he finally finds you, he grips your arm like he’s afraid to let go. “Don’t leave me,” he whispers, his voice shaking.

After a dangerous incident where he thought he’d lost you, he broke down entirely. “I can’t do this without you,” he cried, holding you so tightly it was almost painful. The raw fear in his voice was something you’d never forget.

You’ve occasionally slipped up and said something that unintentionally stings, like mentioning something visual he can’t enjoy or forgetting to guide him when he needed it. While he brushes it off, you can see the flash of hurt in his expression, and it breaks your heart.

Ominis doesn’t cry often, but when he does, he comes to you. He’ll bury his face in your shoulder or lap, clutching onto you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded.

Friendship with Sebastian:

Ominis is fiercely protective of you, but in a quieter way when Sebastian’s around. He trusts Sebastian, but there’s always a part of him that worries you might get swept up in one of Sebastian’s more reckless moments.

Even though the three of you are very different, there’s an unspoken understanding that you’ll be there for each other, no matter what. If one of you is struggling—whether it’s with schoolwork, personal issues, or family matters—the others won’t hesitate to step in and help.

Ominis would provide a grounded perspective, always willing to offer his advice or a listening ear. While he doesn’t speak a lot about his own struggles, he’s incredibly empathetic and always seems to know when you need support. Sebastian, on the other hand, would be the one to try and lift the mood, perhaps cracking a joke or suggesting a very random adventure to get your mind off things.

Ominis might not always vocalize his feelings, but every time you laugh at one of Sebastian’s antics or share a moment of kindness with the group, he’s silently grateful. He’ll cherish these small, happy memories more than he lets on, because it’s rare for him to feel truly connected with others (having you and Sebastian around makes him feel less alone.)

If I think of more ill post them here, hope you enjoyed! Love you all~! Sebastian's are here!

[hoodreader]

𝒱𝐸𝒩𝒰𝒮-𝒮𝒜𝒯𝒰𝑅𝒩 𝒞𝒪𝒩𝒥𝒰𝒩𝒞𝒯𝐼𝒪𝒩 𝐼𝒩 𝒫𝐼𝒮𝒞𝐸𝒮

if ur relationship survives a venus-saturn transit, it’s pretty promising about the foundation + longevity of a relationship. this doesn’t automatically mean y’all will never break up, but it does mean that saturn “sobers up” a body it comes into contact with. so a relationship that lasts past this “sobering up” moment could be well-aligned with u and ur values

before this upcoming conjunction, especially considering the conjunction in pisces, the mutual interests of romantic partnerships may have not been explicitly clear:

what are our goals?

are we growing together?

do they bring out the best in me? do i them?

what is their/my/our vision of love?

how do they/i honor that vision?

are we compatible?

can i see myself with this person longterm? is that even a goal i have? and is that a goal they have?

do they choose to love me and do i choose to love them?

etc, these are questions y’all may have been neglecting to ask y’allselves or lying to urselves about. so the universe is encouraging u to be clear with urself about ur goals.

venus-saturn is pretty auspicious for the relationships meant to stand the test of time, because this allows them to fortify the stability of their relationship. for the relationships that do not stay together, this is a time for u to reassess ur desires and romantic values. either way, saturn matures the expression of venus.

y’all also may be abstaining from things as a result of saturn’s influence. saturn is saying without the sex, without the dates, the excitement … do we go together fr fr?

idk … do u? something to think about!

[zeroseuniverse]

Colors Of Hope

Word Count: 1.3K Summary: “It’s not that simple,” he said quietly, his eyes meeting hers. “This place, these walls—they’re more than just paint and stone. They’re proof that beauty can exist even here.” “Beauty doesn’t matter if you’re dead, Sunoo.” Pairing: Sunoo X Fem Reader

Disclaimer: Please be aware that this is apart of the from the ashes series. This series will have aspects of violence, weapons, angst, blood, injuries, killing, and will heavily focus on oppression and segregation of mutants, Look after your mental state if any of these make you uncomfortable please.

Series Masterlist

She crouched low, her fingers brushing against the cold asphalt as she inspected the latest find—a piece of polished glass, still intact despite its jagged edges. She slipped it into her satchel alongside bits of wire and scraps of metal, treasures that might serve her community.

Navigating the crumbling maze of the city required skill and silence. Her steps were careful, her breaths shallow as she avoided the shadows that hid both predators and prey. It wasn’t until she rounded a corner that she noticed something strange—a faint burst of color cutting through the monochrome.

Curiosity outweighed caution. She crept closer, her pulse quickening. What she found left her breathless.

The studio was tucked into the shell of an old warehouse, its walls painted with vibrant murals that seemed to glow even in the dim light filtering through shattered windows. Images of soaring birds, blooming flowers, and outstretched hands formed a kaleidoscope of life and hope.

She stepped inside, her boots crunching on broken glass, and froze. Someone was watching her.

A young man stood in the doorway, his head tilted slightly, a smudge of blue paint on his cheek. His dark eyes flickered with surprise, but not fear.

“You’re the first person to find this place without an invitation,” he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Did the colors give me away?”

She straightened, one hand instinctively hovering near her belt knife. “Kind of hard to miss the rainbow in a city of gray.”

Instead of retreating, the man stepped forward, his smile widening. “I suppose subtlety isn’t my strong suit. I’m Sunoo.”

She hesitated before answering. “Y/N.”

Sunoo gestured to the room around them. “Well, now that you’ve found my little sanctuary, would you like a tour? Or are you here to criticize my color palette?”

Despite herself, she laughed, a rare sound in this world. “It’s bold, I’ll give you that.”

She followed him deeper into the studio, marveling at the sculptures made from twisted metal and shattered glass, the paintings that transformed discarded scraps into masterpieces. For a moment, she forgot about the dangers outside, lost in the beauty Sunoo had created.

But the world didn’t let anyone forget for long. The first time she brought Sunoo something—a handful of colorful shards she’d found near an abandoned train yard—she told herself it was nothing. Just something he might find useful. But when she saw his face light up as he turned the pieces over in his hands, she felt something stir within her.

“These are perfect,” he said, his voice filled with awe. “Do you know how rare it is to find glass like this?”

She shrugged. “It was just lying around.”

He smiled at her, warm and genuine. “You didn’t have to bring it, though. Thank you.”

That was the beginning of their exchange. Over time, her scavenging runs became as much about survival as they were about finding materials for Sunoo. In return, he started leaving small paintings or sketches for her to find—a flower tucked into her bag, a sunrise etched onto a piece of scrap wood.

“You should try painting sometime,” he said one day as they sat together, watching the light shift across the murals.

She shook her head. “I don’t have the time. Or patience.”

He chuckled. “That’s what you think. But art doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to mean something.”

For the first time in years, she wondered if there was more to life than just surviving.

Sunoo’s studio became a second home, a rare refuge from the unrelenting hardships of the city. She found herself returning often, drawn by Sunoo’s warmth and the vibrant world he created within those crumbling walls.

One day, as she brought him a bundle of old wiring and a cracked mirror, she noticed the strain in his features. He hadn’t greeted her with his usual teasing smile, and his brushstrokes were slower, less confident.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, leaning against the table piled with half-finished sculptures.

He hesitated, his fingers gripping the brush tightly. “I heard rumors yesterday. The regime’s been cracking down harder on anything they think spreads... hope.”

Her stomach tightened. “Hope?”

He nodded, setting the brush down with a sigh. “Art, music, stories—anything that reminds people there’s more to life than fear. They’re calling it ‘subversive.’” His gaze fell to the mural he’d been working on, a depiction of hands reaching toward a glowing light. “It’s only a matter of time before they find me.”

Her voice hardened. “Then you need to be ready to leave. This place isn’t worth your life.”

“It’s not that simple,” he said quietly, his eyes meeting hers. “This place, these walls—they’re more than just paint and stone. They’re proof that beauty can exist even here.”

“Beauty doesn’t matter if you’re dead, Sunoo.”

His lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, she thought she’d pushed him too far. But then he sighed, leaning back against the wall. “Maybe you’re right. But leaving this place feels like giving up.”

“You’re not giving up,” she said, stepping closer. “You’re surviving. And you can keep creating somewhere safer. The people you’ve inspired—they’ll remember. And they’ll keep fighting.”

For the first time, she saw a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. “You really believe that?”

“I do,” she said firmly. “And if you don’t, I’ll make you believe it.”

The regime’s crackdown came sooner than either of them expected. Sunoo’s studio wasn’t just a hidden sanctuary anymore—it had become a beacon for the community, a place where people dared to gather and dream.

When patrols began sweeping the area, she knew they were running out of time.

“We have to go,” she said, her voice urgent as she packed his tools and smaller sculptures into a bag.

Sunoo hesitated, his gaze darting to the murals that covered the walls. “I can’t leave them behind. If they destroy this...”

“They’ll destroy it whether you’re here or not,” she snapped. “The only way to save any of this is to save yourself. You can start again, Sunoo. You can rebuild.”

His shoulders slumped, but he nodded, his resolve crumbling under her words. “What’s the plan?”

“We’ll take what we can carry,” she said. “The rest... we’ll have to trust the people you’ve inspired to remember. To keep it alive.”

As they worked quickly, packing supplies and dismantling portable pieces, they heard the distant rumble of boots on the street outside.

“They’re close,” Sunoo whispered, fear flickering in his eyes.

She grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly. “Then we move now.”

She led Sunoo through the city’s twisting alleys, her familiarity with its hidden routes keeping them one step ahead of the patrols. The bag of supplies weighed heavily on her back, but she didn’t slow down, her grip firm on Sunoo’s wrist.

When they reached the edge of the city, where the rubble gave way to the overgrown remains of a park, she finally let them rest.

Sunoo collapsed onto the ground, his chest heaving. “We made it.”

“For now,” she said, scanning the area for signs of pursuit. “But we need to keep moving. The safe house isn’t far.”

He looked at her, his expression a mix of gratitude and exhaustion. “I wouldn’t have made it without you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” she said, her voice soft. “I believe in what you’re doing, Sunoo. That’s why I couldn’t let them take you.”

For a moment, they sat in silence, the weight of everything they’d left behind settling over them. Then Sunoo reached into the bag he’d insisted on carrying and pulled out a small, rolled-up canvas.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“A piece of the mural,” he said, unrolling it to reveal a fragment of the hands reaching toward the light. “I couldn’t save it all, but I couldn’t leave this behind.”

Her throat tightened as she looked at the painting. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s a reminder,” he said, his voice quiet. “That even in the darkest places, there’s always something worth reaching for.”

She met his gaze, and for the first time, she let herself believe that maybe, just maybe, they could find something more than survival in this broken world.

[deminetly]

✶ RATING YOUR DRS ✶

……………………………………………

⋆ hogwarts 7/10 ok so I personally havent even watched harry potter but it seems awesome,, hogwarts is a classic since basically every shifter has a hogwarts dr but who wouldnt wanna learn magic ?! at the same time i also kinda dont get why you would want to shift to a school from all places ALSO CONSIDERING HOW MANY PEOPLE THERE ARE AND HOW MEAN SOME OF THE TEACHERS ARE BUT

⋆ twilight 7/10 i used to LOVE twilight when i was like 12 (confession i was team jacob ,, and lowk still am.. HES HOTTER OK DONT BLAME ME) and i LOVE the vibe,, highly depends on who youre shifting for tho (if its alice then 8/10 shes like wow)

⋆ fame 7/10 ok i keep rating everything 7 but IDK fame is good but i feel like id get bored after like a few shifts (even though i still have a fame dr) but if you know how to spice it up for yourself then good for you!! (bonus points if its set in the 70s-2000s)

⋆ mermaid 8/10 rated it an 8 instead of a 7 because i keep rating everything 7… anyways its cool but again i feel like i would get bored (unless you know how to spice it up AGAIN) i do fw mermaid more because its like magical and you can script in a forbidden fling with a human or something.. (can you tell i have commitment issues) now i want to make a mermaid dr and design my tail omg

⋆ band/music artist 8/10 as most of yall probably know i do have a band dr so how could i rate it anything lower?! anyways i love hearing about peoples band drs (or any drs for that matter but especially bands bc i can get inspo for my own teehee) i think developing everything for that dr can be super fun and putting together your little group and whatnot

⋆ apocalypse 8/10 would probably have rated this much lower if i hadnt seen those aesthetic slideshow games on tiktok where youre packing for and trying to survive an apocalypse BUT i feel like if you scripted in safety and good vibes it could be a lot of fun and now i wanna make a zombie apocalypse dr..

⋆ the backrooms 6/10 you are BOLD for that,, i get creeped out by just watching a tiktok about them (im aware that the backrooms were on my dr ideas post..) it lowkey depends who youre with because shifting there alone would actually be CRAZY..

⋆ better cr 5.5/10 i dont really get the consept of this like if i were to make a better cr i would FIRST OF ALL change basically everything and atp it wouldnt even be a better cr just a good dr ykwim and how do you come back after shifting there and not feel depressed asf😭

⋆ heartbreak high 5.5/10 i feel like not many people have seen this show and also i dont really fw shifting to shows or movies as much as your own creations but i did like the show itself,, i honestly i wouldnt personally shift there since the vibes are like too.. like 2020 and some people are real assholes but you do you it could be super fun id actually love to know about all the drama

⋆ euphoria 6/10 idk why i like euphoria more than heartbreak high they lowkey give me the same vibe but euphoria is like a better version (i literally havent even seen this but i did watch like 2 hours worth of it from tiktok) ANYWAYS most people there are ASSHOLES too and again PERSONALLY WOULDNT WANT TO GO THERE but again would love to hear more about the drama because there must be tons of that

⋆ monster high 9/10 ok so why did i not think of this before i LOVED monster high when i was a child but im lowkey scared of shifting to an animated world idk it feels off.. the vibes and there tho love that for you

⋆ dead poets society 8/10 again personally havent watched it but from what ive heard it seems cool (that with about 200 other movies have been sitting on my watchlist for years but my commitment issues are so bad i cant commit to watching one movie so i will probably never watch it oops) anyways i want to make a secret society dr now

⋆ my little pony 7/10 oh little me would have LOVED this but again i cant with the animated drs ESPECIALLY considering you would be a PONY?? i need to know how this feels or like what.. i love mlp but honestly (tw: opinion) TWILIGHT IS SO ANNOYING I COULD NOTTTT STAND HER ASS (yes i do know id be able to script her out but i like complaining)

[fangedbats]

Tim is Janet Drake’s son.

Oh, Jack is there — in the shape of his nose, the color of his hair — but Tim is hers in every way that matters. In the sharpness of his mind, the precision of his words, and the way he commands a room without needing to raise his voice. He is her reflection. People who knew Janet see her every time they look at him. They don’t just see the physical resemblance; they see her sharpness in the way Tim speaks, the way he moves, the way he narrows his eyes when he’s putting the pieces together. He’s a carbon copy, they’ll say, Janet’s boy through and through.

Without even realizing it, Tim mirrors her. The way she carried herself in a room — upright, composed, like nothing could touch her — he does the same, whether he’s at a gala or on a rooftop. He thinks the way she thought, always several steps ahead, with an ease that’s unsettling to those who don’t know him. And sometimes, Alfred will catch Tim tracing the rim of his glass with his fingers, a habit Janet had when she was lost in thought. When Alfred points it out, Tim will freeze for a moment, startled, before returning to his work.

Janet was ambitious, a master of strategy who thrived in high society, but she didn’t always show warmth or vulnerability. Tim inherited that same brilliance, that ability to adapt and survive, but he also inherited her flaws. Her distance, her tendency to shut people out when emotions became too complicated — he repeats these patterns, even when he doesn’t mean to. He’ll push people away and tell himself it’s for the best.

It’s not just strangers who see Janet in him. Tim feels it, too. In the way he approaches problems with an unrelenting drive, in the ruthlessness he tries to keep buried, in the moments he knows he’s more like her than he’d like to admit. And yet, there’s pride in that, too. He’s taken her sharp mind, her ambition, her adaptability, and turned it into something more. Her brilliance lives on in his detective work, in his ability to think his way out of impossible situations. Her poise serves him well when he walks into rooms full of powerful people, speaking with the same measured precision that made her so formidable.

But there’s a weight to being Janet Drake’s son. Tim didn’t know her long enough to truly understand her, and yet her influence looms over him in every way that matters. He wonders if he’s doomed to repeat her mistakes, if he’s inherited more of her flaws than her strengths. He keeps small mementos of her — a locket, a photograph — but he doesn’t look at them often. It’s too much, the reminder of what he lost and what he fears becoming.

Jack’s influence lingers in subtler ways, but it’s there. The warmth and humor Tim tries to show others? That’s Jack. The vow to never fade into the background, to never let life happen to him? That’s Jack, too, even if Tim would never admit it. But at the end of the day, the parts of him that matter most — the ones that made him who he is — are all Janet.

Tim may struggle with her legacy, with being her son, but he doesn’t deny it. He takes everything she gave him — the good, the bad, and the complicated — and chooses to make something better out of it. He doesn’t just carry Janet with him; he honors her, in his own way.

Because no matter what anyone else says, Tim Drake is her boy.