#but he's not cried even one time in the game

[voxslays]

hear me out on Inho fucking us in a stall during night time🌚

IS IT CASUAL, NOW? — HWANG IN-HO

Pairings: In-ho x wife!reader Warnings: Smut, quickies, AFAB!reader, bathroom sex, light angst

It wasn’t easy keeping up a facade. Even more so, when your husband was the frontman and hiding amongst the players. Yet, you did your best to pretend you didn’t even know the man during the games—but it was just too hard.

Tonight, you couldn’t handle being near such a large group of people and had decided to hide in the bathroom, staring at your tear stained cheeks through the now cracked mirror, as you hear distant footsteps. Maybe it was your beloved husband, you thought—but it was probably just wishful thinking.

You lean down to the sink, throwing cold water onto your face. You didn’t have the luxury skin-care products like you did back before you joined the players. And how you hated it. Yet, when you looked back up from the mirror, you saw a very familiar face. His hair is now messy (unlike his usual slicked back style) but you would always recognize your husband, your In-ho.

In-ho slowly approaches you, his eyes locked onto yours in the mirror. He reaches out and gently wipes the tears from your face with his thumb, his touch sending shivers down your spine. He says nothing, just stands there, studying your reflection in the mirror.

“I want to go home.” You cry into his embrace. “I hate pretending like I don’t know who you are.” You sob, nearly choking on your own tears. His arms wrap tightly around you, one hand cupping your face tenderly, while the other strokes your hair gently. For a brief moment, all the ruthlessness of the frontman disappears, leaving only the man who loves you. His lips press against your damp hair "I know."

“Please.” You beg, as you feel his hand gently slide up and down your waist. For the first time since becoming the frontman, he feels his composure crumble. Seeing you so broken makes his hearts ache - the cold heart he's cultivated for this game, and the loving heart that beats only for you. His hand moves to hold your chin, tilting your face upwards. “Let me show you how much I love you.”

You immediately feel In-ho pull down the green track sweats you were required to wear, feeling the heat rise. He slowly removes his own mask, revealing his handsome face, before capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His hands roam over your body possessively, as if trying to memorize every curve. He breaks the kiss only to whisper huskily "Mine."

Just then, your husband pushes you into one of the bathroom stalls and locks the door, before pulling down his pants and boxers and ramming his length into you. He pounds into you relentlessly, his hips moving with a desperate urgency. Each thrust is a silent apology, a silent ‘I'm sorry’ for making you suffer. His hand reaches up to cover your mouth, muffling your cries and moans as he takes you hard and fast in the cramped stall.

You feel your eyes roll back in ecstasy. “It’s to much f’me.” You babble. In-ho growls softly as his thrusts become deeper, hitting that sweet spot inside you. He's not being gentle—he's releasing all his pent-up stress and aggression from running the games into this quick, dirty bathroom sex with his beloved wife. "Spread wider."

You can feel yourself quickly hitting your climax as you moan out your husbands name. “In-ho!” You scream. His pace quickens, driving into you one last time as he follows your climax with his own release, his body trembling against yours in the pastel colored stall.

He leans his forehead against yours, panting heavily "Yeobo…" The intimacy of this moment contrasting sharply with the harsh reality of your situation. “One more day, and I promise we can leave.” He whispers into your ear as he puts his forehead to yours. One more day, huh? You could live with that.

[rosemariiaa]

03 ʙʀᴏᴋᴇɴ ʀᴇᴄᴏʀᴅs

𐙚—pairing: Paige x Azzi

𐙚—rosie’s note: i was being nice with the fluff and ok ok ik i said i was gonna post last night but you guys know i just talk a lot.. sooo good morning (it’s 5) and here you go!! this is just one flashback and it’s kinda just a filler so sorry but next chapter..juicy asf, send live reacts please i love them!! tysmm for 800+ roses ily kisses, happy reading lovelies 💌

𐙚—links: rosie’s bookshelf, series masterlist, prologue

𐙚—themes: angst, hurt/comfort, acl tear, language, fluff

𐙚—taglist: @thaatdigitaldiary @bueckersbitch @imaginespazzi @makethemhoesmad @sierrale8ne @ohbueckers @juspeaks @pazzilover101 @lupinqs @kmoneymartini @pbaz7 @absolutelydreadful @patri-ots87 @ashortyluvsports

enjoy!!!

USA Basketball U18, Colorado Springs 2019

The gym is loud—sneakers screeching against polished wood, the low hum of the crowd settling into her bones. The air is thick with sweat, adrenaline, and something else—something heavier. It presses against Paige’s chest, curling tight around her ribs.

She blinks hard, her body jolting forward.

She knows where she is. 2019.

Her stomach drops.

This is the game where Azzi tears her ACL.

A chill creeps up her spine despite the heat of the gym. She spots Azzi easily, cutting through the defense—sharp, quick, deadly. Damn, she’s good. Paige swallows hard.

She could stop this.

She should stop this.

But Azzi drives to the basket, her movements effortless, fluid. She leaps for the layup, stretching toward the rim. And then it happens, a defender slams into her mid-air. Azzi’s body twists awkwardly.

She comes down wrong and her right knee gives out.

The pop is sickening.

Paige doesn’t hear the whistle, doesn’t hear the gasps from the crowd. All she hears is the scream. Azzi’s scream. It cuts through the noise like a blade, sharp and panicked, laced with pain in a way that makes Paige’s stomach churn.

She’s moving before she can think, shoving past bodies, dropping to her knees beside Azzi. “Hey, hey,” she rushes out, reaching for her. Azzi’s hands are gripping her knee, her face twisted in agony.

“Paige,” Azzi gasps, her voice strained and broken, thick with something Paige never wants to hear from her—fear. “Something’s wrong. I—I felt it pop—”

Paige’s stomach lurches. “Okay, okay, just breathe, Az.”

Trainers rush over. Coaches bark instructions. The crowd is silent. But all Paige can focus on is Azzi—Azzi shaking, Azzi gripping her wrist like she’s terrified of letting go.

Paige squeezes back. “I got you,” she murmurs. “I got you, okay?”

Azzi doesn’t answer. She just squeezes her eyes shut.

And then, she’s gone—taken away by the medical staff, leaving Paige kneeling on the court, her hands curled into fists against the hardwood. She could’ve stopped it.

But she froze.

And now, the damage is done.

—

The hospital room is too damn quiet.

Azzi stares at the ceiling, fingers twisting into the blanket draped over her legs. The faint beeping of a heart monitor in the hallway fills the silence, but it’s not enough to drown out the weight pressing against Paige’s ribs.

Azzi’s mom is sitting near the door, phone clutched tightly in her hands. She keeps checking it, jaw clenched, leg bouncing. She had called Tim over and over, but the reception at his basketball camp was awful. He didn’t answer until it was already too late.

Paige can still hear the way Katie’s voice had cracked when she finally got through to him.

“She tore it,” she had whispered, barely holding it together.

Silence.

Then, finally, Tim’s voice, hoarse and uneven: “No.”

Paige closes her eyes. Even through the phone, she could hear the heartbreak in his voice. The helplessness.

He had cried for four days . He had nearly gotten sick when he called back.

Azzi hasn’t said a word since the doctor confirmed it—the ACL tear.

The feeling is worse than the first time paige experienced this.

She watches as Azzi shifts slightly, wincing at even the smallest movement. The cast on her leg feels too big, too final, the kind of thing that makes it impossible to pretend this isn’t happening.

Paige swallows, chest tight. She doesn’t know what to say—what the hell is there to say?

This is Azzi’s worst nightmare.

And Paige has lived it twice now.

The first time had been unbearable. Sixteen and seventeen, sitting in another hospital room, staring at another blank wall while Azzi fought to keep from breaking in front of everyone.

Paige had been there through all of it—the surgery, the rehab, the quiet frustration when Azzi’s body refused to move the way she needed it to. The nights where she’d swear she was fine but Paige would catch the way her fingers dug into her hoodie sleeves, the way her breath hitched when she thought no one was listening.

Paige had sworn to herself that she wouldn’t have to see Azzi go through it again.

She had convinced herself that it was over. That they’d gotten through it.

And yet—

Here they were. Here she was, not by choice though. She has no idea why she is even in this flashback and not trying to keep Azzi away from- Azzi shifts, drawing in a shaky breath. “I don’t—” She stops, pressing her lips together, shaking her head.

Paige leans forward forgetting her thoughts. “You don’t what?”

Azzi swallows hard. When she finally looks at Paige, her eyes are glassy, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now.”

Paige doesn’t hesitate. “You heal. You come back stronger.”

Azzi lets out a hollow laugh, swiping at her eyes. “You make it sound so simple.”

Paige exhales sharply. It’s not simple. It never was.

But Azzi is Azzi—fierce, disciplined, unwilling to let anything keep her down.

Azzi stares down at her knee, her jaw tight. “I was so careful,” she mutters. “I did everything right. And still—” She gestures toward her leg, voice cracking. “Still, this happened.”

Paige hesitates, then leans in. “I know you don’t want to hear this right now,” she says carefully, “but this doesn’t change who you are.”

Azzi scoffs, her fingers tightening around the blanket. “Doesn’t it?”

“No.” Paige shakes her head, firm. “You’re still the hardest worker I know. You’re still Azzi.”

Azzi’s jaw clenches. “You say that like it’s enough.”

Paige meets her gaze. “It is enough, I promise”

—

Few weeks later (still in 2019)

Azzi’s basement has always been my second home, it actually makes me happy to be here again. Her parents always say they should start charging me rent. Not that I’d pay, but still. I’m sprawled out on the floor, a half-empty pint of ice cream balanced on my stomach, while Azzi is curled up on the couch, wrapped in way too many blankets, her knee propped up on pillows. Frozen is playing on the TV, and even though she’s still in recovery mode, she looks pretty comfortable.

I, on the other hand, am suffering. Because Azzi is ignoring me.

And I can’t let that slide.

I turn my head and watch her pretend to focus on the movie, her eyes locked on the screen like she’s actually paying attention. Which, okay, maybe she is, but that’s not the point. The point is, I don’t like being ignored.

So, naturally, I poke her arm.

No reaction.

I poke her again.

Still nothing.

I narrow my eyes. “Azzi.”

Silence.

I scoot closer. “Azziii.”

Azzi exhales slowly, like she’s meditating through the pain that is my presence.

Challenge accepted.

I nudge her knee. “Az Az Az Az.”

Azzi finally turns her head, eyes dark with warning. “What.”

I grin. “Hi.”

She stares at me for a long moment. “…Get out of my house.”

I gasp, clutching my chest like she just personally wounded me. “After everything I’ve done for you? The ice cream? The emotional support? The world-class entertainment?”

Azzi deadpans. “You tickled me all last night.”

I smirk. “To cheer you up.”

“You almost killed me.”

I hum, tilting my head in fake thought. “Mmm. Jury’s still out on that one.”

Azzi glares. “I hate you.”

I beam. “Love you too.”

She groans, sinking deeper into the couch like she can escape me.

She can’t.

Because if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s being a persistent pain in the ass. I lean over slightly, watching her pretend to focus on the TV again, and poke her cheek.

She smacks my hand away.

I poke her shoulder.

She smacks it away again.

I poke her arm. “Hey.”

“I swear to God, Paige—”

“Do you wanna build a snowman?” I sing, voice purposely awful.

Azzi finally looks at me, expression blank. “If you don’t shut up, I’m using my crutches as a weapon.”

“Violence?” I gasp. “From you? I’m shocked.”

She rolls her eyes, but I don’t miss the way she hides her smile behind the blanket.

I take that as a win and scoot even closer, fully invading her personal space. “Wanna watch something else?”

Azzi shakes her head, gaze flickering back to the TV just as Olaf waddles onto the screen. And I swear, she softens.

“You love him,” I tease.

“I don’t—”

“Yes, you do. You wanna build a snowman so bad.”

She grabs a pillow and chucks it at me without hesitation. I let it hit me right in the face, because honestly? Worth it.

We fall into a comfortable silence, the kind I know she needs. The kind I’m willing to give her—until I decide she’s had enough peace.

I nudge her side. “You doing okay?”

Azzi shrugs, fingers picking at the blanket. “Yeah. I mean, not really, but yeah.” I nod, waiting a beat before smirking. “Want me to start singing Let It Go to cheer you up?”

She doesn’t even hesitate. “Paige, pleas—”

I cut her off, launching into the most dramatic, off-key performance of my life.

Azzi groans, dragging the blanket over her head like it’ll save her.

It won’t.

Because yeah, she’s going to have her bad days.

But me? I’m not going anywhere.

A few minutes later, the movie’s still playing when we hear footsteps coming down the basement stairs. I don’t think much of it—probably Katie checking in or Jose grabbing something—but then I hear a familiar voice, and suddenly, my mood plummets.

“Yo, Azzi!”

I swear I hear Azzi sigh before she even turns her head.

Jose comes into view first, hands in his pockets, looking way too amused for my liking. He steps aside to let Jake through, and I watch as Azzi shoots her brother a look that practically screams Why’d you let him in here?!

Jose just shrugs, grinning like this is the funniest thing ever. “He asked for you.”

Azzi closes her eyes for a second, like she’s praying for patience. Meanwhile, I shift up from my spot on the floor, propping myself up on my elbows, already annoyed.

Jake’s got that usual smug, overconfident energy as he plops down on the other end of the couch, way too close to Azzi’s feet. “Damn, Azzi. You still out of commission?”

Azzi glances at me for half a second, then back at him. “Yep. Still injured.”

Jake leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his expression all concerned—or at least, his version of it. “That’s rough. You need anything? I can grab you some food, bring you something from Chipotle—”

Azzi cuts him off before he can get too comfortable. “Nope, I’m okay. Paige and I already ate.”

I smile at that.

Jake barely reacts, like he didn’t even hear her. “Well, if you ever need somewhere else to hang, I was thinking—”

Azzi interrupts again. “Me and Paige were actually gonna start another movie soon.”

I grin at that.

Jake doesn’t get the hint. “Right, right. But listen, there’s this beach party in a couple weeks—”

I already heard this once before, yeah, no. Not happening.

Before he can even get the full invite out, I sit up straighter, eyes wide with fake realization. “Oh, shoot! Azzi, don’t you have, like… a full week of rehab that week?”

Azzi catches on instantly. She tilts her head, playing along. “Oh, yeah. Right. Full week. Super intense. No free time at all sorry.”

I nod. “Yeah, it’s really important.”

Azzi nods solemnly. “The most important.”

Jake frowns. “Oh. Well… maybe another time then?”

Azzi offers the most unconvincing, “Yeah, maybe,” I’ve ever heard. Jose snickers from the doorway.

Jake finally, finally seems to realize he’s not wanted, because he pushes himself up off the couch, forcing a laugh. “Alright, alright, I get it. You two are busy.”

Azzi gives him a thumbs-up. “Super busy.”

I beam at her.

Jake just sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright, well, see you later, Az-” He quickly glances at me and clears his throat, “My bad, bye Azzi.”

Yeah cus you know.

Azzi nods. “Mhm.”

He throws me another glance before heading upstairs, and the second the basement door shuts behind him, Jose loses it, doubling over with laughter. “Oh my god.” He shakes his head, looking at Azzi. “You’re so mean.”

Azzi shrugs, completely unbothered. “I’m injured.”

I snort, leaning back into the couch. “Yeah, Jose. Have some sympathy.”

Jose rolls his eyes, still grinning. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” He pauses, glancing between the two of us, and then his smirk turns downright evil. “Just… try not to get too cozy down here, alright?” He wags his eyebrows. “I know how you two get.”

I freeze.

Azzi scoffs, tossing a pillow at him. “Shut up.”

Jose dodges it easily, laughing. “I’m just saying! If it were me, I wouldn’t trust myself alone in a basement with someone I—”

“Bye,” Azzi cuts him off, pointing at the stairs.

Jose grins but finally backs away. “I’m just looking out for Mom and Dad.” He throws me a glance as he goes. “And for Paige’s dignity.”

The second the door closes behind him, I let out a very shaky breath.

Because oh my god.

If only he knew. Well…he did know unfortunately I wasn’t that secretive back then, well now, anyway-

I make the mistake of glancing at Azzi, and of course she’s already looking at me, her expression unreadable. There’s this slow, knowing smirk tugging at her lips, and I suddenly forget how to breathe.

Azzi tilts her head slightly. “You good over there?”

I wave her off, forcing out a laugh that hopefully doesn’t sound as nervous as I feel. “Pfft. Yeah. Totally.”

Her smirk grows. “You sure? You look kinda—”

“I’m fine,” I cut in, shoving a spoonful of ice cream into my mouth before I can say anything stupid.

Azzi hums, like she doesn’t believe me at all, but thankfully, she lets it go.

But the problem is… I don’t. I never do.

Because now, I can’t stop thinking about later tonight.

And how way too soon, we’ll be alone again.

A few hours later, we’re tangled up in Azzi’s bed, watching All American—or, at least, one of us is.

Azzi’s fingers comb lazily through my hair, her nails grazing my scalp in a way that makes it really hard to focus on anything but her.

I barely register whatever drama’s happening on screen because I’m too busy staring at her.

Her face is so unfairly pretty—the soft curve of her cheek, the way her eyelashes flutter every time she blinks, the slight crease in her forehead when she’s actually paying attention to something. It’s like she’s in her own world, completely unaware of the fact that I’m losing my mind over her years later, obviously she wouldn’t know that but anyway.

But, Azzi doesn’t miss anything.

“Paigey,” she murmurs, her lips quirking up as she glances down at me. “You want me to pause the show? Seems like you’re real focused on something else.”

I should’ve looked away the second she caught me, but now it’s too late.

I roll my eyes, playing it cool. “Please. I wasn’t even lookin at you.”

Azzi’s smirk deepens. “Mmm. Sure.” Her fingers pause in my hair, and suddenly, I miss the feeling. “You wanna tell me what you were looking at, then?”

I narrow my eyes. “I was trying to watch, but someone keeps distracting me.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Me?”

I scoff. “Yes, you.”

Azzi tilts her head, the smirk on her lips turning into something softer, something dangerous. “I’m not even doing anything.”

I open my mouth, ready to argue, but then she shifts, leaning in just slightly, and every single thought in my head vanishes.

She’s so close now.

Close enough that I can feel her breath ghost across my lips, close enough that I could close the space between us in one second if I wanted to—

And I do.

Azzi lets me make the move. She always did.

Our lips meet, slow at first, like we’re savoring the moment, like we’ve done this before and know exactly how to do it right.

Because we have.

Four times in the last year—I counted. Still counting.

I kiss her deeper, my hand slipping into her curls, and she sighs against my lips, like this is exactly where she wants to be.

Azzi pulls me in, shifting so that I’m almost on top of her, and my entire body feels like it’s melting against her warmth.

It’s not rushed, not something we’ll pretend didn’t happen in the morning. We didn’t, we woke up that morning doing the same thing for 15 minutes, I counted.

She hums into the kiss, her fingers sliding under the hem of my hoodie, tracing circles against my skin, and a shiver runs down my spine.

I swear I could do this forever, just lose myself in her, but then—

Azzi breaks the kiss with a soft laugh, her forehead pressing against mine.

“We should sleep,” she murmurs, breathless.

I huff, still catching my own breath. “Wow. That’s rude.”

Azzi grins. “You’re the one who’s always talking about my recovery.” She nudges my side. “Don’t you want me well-rested?”

I groan dramatically, burying my face in her shoulder. “Fine.”

Azzi chuckles, pulling me closer, and just like that, we settle in, the weight of the day slipping away as sleep creeps in. And as much as I love sleeping next to Azzi like this every night, I desperately wish I was home now.

[yarnabee]

THE DOCTOR HEADCANNON — BEING HIS PLAYTHING.

harley sawyer ( the doctor ) x reader

tags/warnings: sfw (15+), light gore, torture/impact, power imbalance, degradation, abusive behaviour, posessive behaviour, kidnapping i suppose

sawyer is a HUGE jerk to everyone, including to his own little precious plaything, you. of course, such a cold, dense body made out of metal wouldn't make sense if it had a heart, wouldn't it?

besides.. your timid reactions to his sick, little experiments were what piqued his interest in the first place. what a lovely sight it is to see a flesh roaming around his prison like a helpess, pathetic rat who lost its way home. whether you writhe, yelp, whine, sob, or scream.. it's all melody to his ears.

he loves purposefully letting you escape from his lair, making you think that there's still hope to escape his hellish prison. just as you thought you were free of his grasp, he'll pin you, his beloved trophy, down—his mechanical figure hovering over you, eyes daunting as it pierces towards your cowardly ones, squeezing your neck tightly with his iron first, making sure that you knew there's no use fighting someone much stronger than you are. oh, how he loves watching the glint of hope fading from your pupils—dulling them with fear instead. he'd purposefully taunt you, mocking you with his laugh as it echoes through the hallways, "you really thought you could escape me, hmm? what an interesting thing you are, little rat."

oh, how he loves turning every single thing into a game that he knew you'd lose from the very beginning. it's amusing to see how you'd react time to time, whether you try to fight back or whimper out of fear, he feasts on it nonetheless. he'll purposefully make you play hide and seek with him, taunt you with his creaking footsteps, then having his way with you once he got his fingers wrapped tightly around you—dragging you into his lair once again as your fights and cries means nothing to him. "don't try to fight, little rat. i know you're at least smart enough to understand why."

don't get him wrong, though. just because he's able to leave cuts and bruises all over your delicate skin doesn't mean any of those filthy creatures roaming outside has the right to leave a scratch on you, not even a single one. oh, how sawyer wouldn't even think twice to rip appart the limbs off those past experiments who still roams in the area, who dares to touch you without any permission. you're his plaything, and only his. no one else.

the doctor wants you to DEPEND on him, just like how yarnaby depends on him and obeys him like a God. he wants your pathetic self to see him as YOUR lifeline, as he purposefully brings the necessities you need such as food and medicines, his mechanical joints placing them gently next to you without saying anything. afterall, he needs his little lab rat on good condition to play with, no?

at times where he's not running any 'experiments' and 'games' on you, he always kept you inside of his lab—no contact is allowed without his permission. he'd occassionally let yarnaby roam around and get used up to your presence, but he won't let you or it get too attached to each other.

he barely speaks to you, his answers are either mockery or straight degradation. you never really ask him anything about his motives too, he never liked it when you were curious. "say, little rat, i'd be amused if you hadn't learn what happens to curious little rats who gets too nosy."

a little fun fact; the doctor can easily destroy you if he wanted to. he always lets you know through his grips—how he's controlling it steadilly, letting you know that if he puts just the littlest more effort into squeezing you, you'd have your bones crushed within seconds—and he makes sure that you always remember that at all times.

"now, little rat, go on and amuse me. let's see what else i can get out off you."

[scoupsakakitty]

Snowflakes | idol!Jeonghan x Reader | fluff

It all started as a spontaneous trip. Y/N had been a little surprised when Jiwoo, her best friend, invited her along for a ski weekend, but what really caught her off guard was the twist: Jiwoo’s boyfriend, Seungcheol, had insisted that Jeonghan come along too.

“Jeonghan?” Y/N raised an eyebrow when Jiwoo mentioned the name. “Why him?”

“Well,” Jiwoo said with a teasing grin, “you know how the fans can be. Seungcheol thought it would look less suspicious if Jeonghan came along. Plus, we need to balance it out, so I figured I’d ask you to join!”

Y/N laughed softly, appreciating Jiwoo’s thoughtfulness. “Sounds like a setup for a reality show or something.”

Despite the oddity of it all, Y/N agreed. And soon enough, they were all packed and on their way to a cozy cabin in the mountains, surrounded by the winter wonderland of snow-covered trees and icy peaks.

The first day of skiing was pure chaos everyone falling, laughing, and trying to get their bearings on the slopes. By the evening, they were all back at the cabin, warming up by the fire. A big pot of hot chocolate was waiting, and the group decided to pass the time with a friendly game of Uno.

“I’m warning you guys now,” Jeonghan said, winking, “I’m a professional Uno player. Don’t try anything funny, or I’ll catch you.”

Y/N smirked from across the table. “You’re the one who should be careful, Jeonghan. I know all the tricks.”

“Ah, is that so?” Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “We’ll see about that.”————————————————————————————-The atmosphere was light, everyone was deeply involved in the game, and the laughs kept coming. But Y/N, ever the observant one, started to notice something off about Jeonghan.

She watched as he casually slipped cards between his legs, thinking no one would notice. But Y/N wasn’t that easy to fool.

“Stop! You’re sitting on your cards! Stand up!” she suddenly shouted, her eyes locking onto Jeonghan’s suspicious behavior as she snatched the remaining cards from the table.

He blinked in confusion. “What? Me?” he asked, acting innocent, but it was too late. Y/N had caught him red-handed.

“Stand up, Jeonghan!” she repeated, a mischievous grin spreading across her face, and everyone stared at him in anticipation.

He slowly got up, and as he did, two cards fell out of his ass. With a loud plop, they hit the floor, and the room erupted in laughter.

“Oh my god, really?” Jiwoo cried out, clutching her stomach as the group burst into uncontrollable fits of laughter.

Jeonghan stood there, utterly stunned, while Y/N was bent over, practically in tears from laughing so hard. “Seriously? You thought I wouldn’t notice?” Y/N gasped between giggles.

“I… I don’t know what happened!” Jeonghan stammered, his face turning bright red as the group continued to laugh at his expense.

It was a moment they would never forget, and as they calmed down, everyone couldn’t help but tease him for the rest of the night.————————————————————————————-After their game, the group settled in for the night. But there was a problem: the cabin only had two rooms, and since Y/N and Jeonghan were the last ones to claim the second room, they were forced to share it.

“We’ll just sleep on opposite sides of the bed,” Y/N said with a shrug. The bed was large enough for the both of them to keep some space.

However, the problem was the cold. The old cabin didn’t have central heating, and the night air was bitterly cold. Y/N pulled the blanket closer around herself but still found herself shivering under the weight of the chill.

Jeonghan lay still in the darkness, hearing the soft clattering of Y/N’s teeth. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should say something. After all, they weren’t close like that… yet.

“You cold?” Jeonghan finally asked, breaking the silence.

Y/N let out a soft, embarrassed sigh. “Yeah, a little. It’s freezing in here…”

Jeonghan turned his head slightly, his voice soft. “Well… I guess there’s no harm in sharing some warmth. Come here.”

Y/N blinked at him in surprise, but without much thought, she scooted closer to him. The warmth from his body was a welcome relief, and she felt her shivering slow.

“Thanks,” she murmured.

Jeonghan, noticing the awkwardness in the air, decided to break the tension by talking. “I’m not great at keeping people warm, but I can at least tell some stories to distract you.”

Y/N chuckled. “I’ll take stories over nothing.”

Jeonghan smirked, his voice turning light-hearted. “Okay, well, I have plenty of stories from the tour. Like the time DK tried to cook for everyone and nearly set the kitchen on fire…”

Y/N laughed, imagining the chaos. “I can totally picture that.”

And so, the conversation flowed, from funny tour mishaps to embarrassing moments. But eventually, Jeonghan couldn’t help but ask, “So… how did you know I was cheating at Uno?”

Y/N grinned. “Let’s just say, I’ve used the same trick before. You weren’t as slick as you thought.”

Jeonghan snorted in disbelief. “So, you’re a cheater too, huh?”

Y/N shrugged playfully. “Only when necessary. You should’ve seen me beat Jiwoo at Monopoly once.”

“That’s my girl,” Jeonghan said, laughing softly. The atmosphere had shifted, and it no longer felt awkward. They were just two friends in the middle of a snowy mountain, sharing warmth and laughter.

Suddenly, without thinking, Jeonghan blurted out, “You have a really cute laugh.”

Y/N froze for a second, her heart doing an unexpected little flip. “Um, thanks,” she said, her voice a little quieter. She turned her face away, not sure if it was the heat from being close to him or the compliment that was making her blush.

There was a long, comfortable silence after that, and soon they both fell asleep, the crackling of the fire the only sound in the room.————————————————————————————-The next morning, they all piled into the car to head back, exhausted from the late-night talks and the skiing. Y/N, still tired, leaned against Jeonghan’s shoulder as the car bumped along the mountain roads. Within minutes, she was asleep.

Jeonghan, too, had his eyes drifting shut. Slowly, he leaned his head onto hers, too tired to care that it might seem strange.

Seungcheol, who was driving, glanced at the rearview mirror and caught sight of the two of them. A small smile tugged at his lips as he nudged Jiwoo, who was sitting beside him.

“Looks like our friends are getting pretty cozy,” he whispered, his voice amused.

Jiwoo peered at the backseat and smirked. “They definitely are. Maybe we’ll go on double dates soon?”

Seungcheol chuckled, nodding. “That’d be nice. But for now, let’s just let them have their moment.”

Jiwoo secretly took a picture of the sleeping pair, capturing the peaceful scene. It was a quiet, content moment one that neither Y/N nor Jeonghan had expected but would both remember forever.

As the car drove through the snowy mountains, the two friends slept soundly, completely unaware of the subtle change between them. Perhaps it was just the beginning of something more.

————————————————————————————-

[so-writing]

don't forget to water the plants -- Quinn Hughes

“Don’t forget to water the plants!” 

“I won’t,” he smiled easily as he picked up your bag, “have a good girl’s weekend, and don’t worry about the fucking plants. I’ll take care of them.” 

You laughed and followed him out into the hallway, hurrying to catch the elevator. You trusted him, he’d take care of them and everything would be fine.

**

months later

“I can’t do this,” Quinn runs his hands through his hair while pacing back and forth from the kitchen to the living room, “it’s so fucking exhausting.”

You said nothing, not sure how to respond to that because you weren’t quite sure when things got ‘so fucking exhausting’ for him. As far as you knew, things were good. Your sex life was pretty regular and the two of you rarely fought. 

“Do you hear me? It feels like I’m talking to a fucking wall.” 

“Yes, Quinn,” you finally spoke, “I hear you just fine.” 

“About fucking time.” 

This wasn’t him, not the him you knew, and you struggled with how to react to his hurtful words. If you were quiet, he seemed to get aggravated, but if you responded to him, he instantly got annoyed. There was no winning with this version of Quinn. 

So you said that, “there’s no winning with you!”

It came out louder than you intended, “It’s obvious that I can’t make you happy anymore. Why are we even doing this?”

He was quiet for nearly a minute, his pacing across the apartment coming to a stop, “great fucking question.”

The air between the two of you was thicker than it had ever been. You, sitting on the couch holding back tears, and Quinn, standing in the kitchen with his back to you, had reached an impasse. The past several months of fighting over things you couldn’t recall had come to a finally come to a head. 

“I should probably leave,” you didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to make it final, “this is your place and I’ve never really belonged here anyway.” 

His silence said everything you needed to (not) hear. This wasn’t your home, this wasn’t your place, this wasn’t your life anymore. 

“Give me some time to pack and I’ll go.” 

“Take a few days,” Quinn ran a hand through his hair and sighed, “we’ve got a few road games, I’ll stay somewhere else until we get back.”

It wasn’t until he closed the door behind him, for the final time you’d be there, that you finally let the floodgates open. Salty tears slid down your face as you grabbed your accessories from the bathroom and packed your clothes into suitcases you never thought would be used for this. 

The bedazzled Canucks jersey hanging on your side of the closet sent you into a teary spiral. It had taken nearly a day to place every little rhinestone and Quinn had loved the way it sparkled. You wanted to take it with you, because you had worked so hard on it and he didn’t deserve to keep it, but more than that, you wanted to hurt him. And you hoped, maybe, it would hurt him if he saw your labor of love, for him, hanging by itself in the closet you used to share.

You wanted to hurt him, as much as he had hurt you. 

The Canucks would be on the east coast of the states for the next four days. In that time, you scrubbed nearly all of your existence from the apartment you shared with Quinn. The kitchen was clear of any dishes, snacks, knickknacks, and decor that belonged to you. The living room couch was devoid of all comfy accent pillows and plush blankets you’d bought. The bedroom and adjoining bathroom showed no signs of you ever being there. By the time you were done removing yourself from Quinn’s place, only a few things remained that would remind him of you. 

It was done on purpose, and you knew, it would be the one thing that might actually break through his new, ugly exterior and truly hurt him, just as you wanted. 

Locking the door behind you for the final time, you sucked in a deep breath and pinched the bridge of your nose to stop the tears that wanted to fall. You’d cried over Quinn enough, time to let go. 

***

Quinn returned to a half empty apartment. He knew you’d leave, but the impact of you truly leaving didn’t really set in until he came home to shell of the home he once shared with you. Little pieces of you that used to decorate the space and make it special were now gone, replaced with dust and empty space. 

Your coffee mug, your toothbrush, your favorite pillow, every little piece of you had brightened the space left a dull opening that Quinn couldn’t quite figure out how he would fill. Every piece of you except one, or several rather, your carefully curated plant collection was left by the big window overlooking Vancouver. 

Once thriving, the plants were now turning brown and beginning to crumble. The dry soil was pulling away from the edges of the pots and dead leaves lay on the floor beneath the shelves. It wasn’t until he saw your dying collection, one that you put so much love and care into, that Quinn realized what he’d actually lost. 

He knelt down and began to pick up the fallen leaves when he noticed a post it note taped to the big window, the once sticky edges around the tape curled and peeling away.

don’t forget to water the plants

[donovankinard]

that's right, that's right, 911 fic recs are back! its been a pretty light month for reading for me; i travelled quite a bit earlier in the month and then school started back up, so i don't have a huge amount to link, but i wanted to share what i have read anyway! this month we've got buddie, bucktommy, tarlos, buck&chris, saltommy, teddie and louliver! a very mlm heavy month, but with hen wilson week coming up that should change for feb.

🔥 Back to Us || @kumiokosposts evan buckley/eddie diaz || 95k Buck, struggling with abandonment and feelings of being unworthy, is shaken when Chris calls, asking if he can live with Buck now that he’s no longer with Tommy. Still hurt and angry with Eddie, Chris refuses to tell his dad about wanting to live with Buck, leaving Buck caught in the middle, torn between protecting Chris and his loyalty to Eddie. Yet as Buck promises to help, he feels something shift—beneath all the self-doubt and pain, a quiet hope emerges. For the first time in what feels like forever, someone chose him, and maybe, just maybe, he’s not as unworthy of love as he’s always believed.

🔥 Time in a Bottle || @cjlouwho evan buckley/tommy kinard || 16.7k (so far) His heart began to race as the doors swung open and out. No light shined in, letting Tommy know it was still night. Then, a heavy step started down the staircase. Thud, thud, thud. Fifteen steps. Tommy counted each one. And suddenly, he wasn't alone anymore.

🔥 white shoe, black shoe || @hazeystar evan buckley/tommy kinard || 1.5k Tommy and Buck get married and somehow let Maddie and Eddie come up with the wedding games. Or: The wedding shoe game that ends with Eddie Diaz being a menace to society (really just Buck and Tommy)

🔥 You're Not Gone (You Can't Be Gone) || @theredrenard & @buck-up-buck evan buckley/eddie diaz || 5.2k “Eddie…?” Buck sways slightly, eyes wide. He’s paler than he should be and his voice sounds so, so fragile. His hand twitches at his side like he’s trying to reach for Eddie, but he can’t quite get his arm to move. In the time it takes Eddie to glance down, then back up to Buck’s face with dawning horror painted on his features, Buck’s legs give out and he collapses onto the concrete in slow motion.

🔥 a hundred times over || @fake-mouthstatic evan buckley/tommy kinard || 7.7k (so far) A collection of BuckTommy drabbles for the 118 Daily Drabble Challenge.

🔥 To Share, A little, A lot || DracaUponTheWings carlos reyes/tk strand, evan buckley/tommy kinard || 4.7k In Which the Author seized on the possible similarities in our couples and forced them to talk.

🔥 when fate cries || @theghostofashton carlos reyes/tk strand || 67.8k An ACL tear, the statement posted a couple days later had read. Carlos would need immediate surgery, and obviously – he would not compete for the USA in London. TK, still coming off the thrill of being named to the team himself, hadn’t been sure how to feel. Carlos had always trained in Texas, and he in New York, so they rarely crossed paths outside of competitions. That’s why he was looking forward to being on the team with him, so sure it was guaranteed. It was practically a given among every coach he talked to. Carlos was a lock. It felt weird to celebrate. Wrong, almost. Carlos should have been with him. They’d both been working for this their entire lives. three years later, the road to rio brings with it far more than redemption

🔥 Come Back... Be Here || @911varietyposts evan buckley & christopher diaz || 1.1k Buck still hadn’t gone back to work, even though Maddie was pushing him to just so he could have something to distract his mind from everything going on around him. He just couldn’t bring himself to go back yet; not to the job that had claimed the love of his life. OR: Buck and Chris navigate the emotions after Eddie's death

🔥 just give hope a chance to float up || @judymarch15 sal deluca/tommy kinard || 23.4k Sal Deluca's marriage falls apart on national television. He and his daughter Sophia move back to his hometown of Smithville, Texas to live with his mom Loretta. He works on picking up the pieces of his life, grows closer to his family, and reconnects with old classmate and football teammate Tommy Kinard.

🔥 Louliver Road Trip || @writerdot lou ferrigno jr/oliver stark || 2.5k Oliver isn't alone on his road trip.

🔥 sonnet || @athenaeumsfic evan buckley/tommy kinard || 30.5k It wasn’t supposed to still feel this raw after so long. Every time Tommy passes him by, his cologne lingers in the air for a moment and Buck is transported back to this time last year when they were getting to the stage of really, properly knowing each other. He’d never been happier. A few times, Tommy swipes his back as he moves around him – the garden is crowded with three separate firehouses hanging around – and it feels like an electric shock every time. All he wants is to reach behind him, grab his hand and pull Tommy close. aka the one where Buck and Tommy have broken up but agree to a weekend in Vegas with Eddie and Chimney. Chaos ensues.

🔥 i'm broken (tell you i'm fine) || @hazeystar evan buckley/tommy kinard || 1.9k Two weeks after the breakup, Buck misses Tommy. He also loves him, did you know?

🔥 Tiny Heartbeats || @sunnywithachanceofbi evan buckley/tommy kinard || 9.9k Tommy and Buck's daughter, Edie, faces a life-threatening heart surgery at two weeks old, pushing them to confront their deepest fears while waiting in the hospital.

🔥 There's Gotta Be Some Butterflies Somewhere || Tea_gremlin evan buckley/eddie diaz || 34.7k Eddie joins the 118 after Buck is permanently disabled by an explosion at a call. Despite initial tensions, they learn just how important they can be to one another.

🔥 say what you wanna say (and let the words fall out) || @nephilimeq evan buckley/tommy kinard || 6.3k “You all saw me sad and upset over Tommy breaking up with me—but instead of asking me what went wrong or what you could do to help, all of you stopped me from reaching out to him!” Buck spat out, feeling his irritation rise at seeing his friends looking confused, but he didn’t care. Instead, he kept on talking, saying, “You kept me from reaching out to him by playing ‘keep away’ with my phone like a bunch of middle schoolers! Did it ever occur to any of you that I didn’t want the breakup to happen?” (...aka, the story where Buck and Tommy secretly get back together and then Buck finally stands up for himself against his 118 family, finally saying what he's been wanting to say for a long while, dragging all the dirt out into the open)

🔥 playing (playing with the boy) || @thatmexisaurusrex eddie diaz/tommy kinard || 5.2k Tommy. Snorted. Cute. Why was that cute?

🔥 shelter (feels like home) || @fake-mouthstatic evan buckley/tommy kinard || 1.9k Tommy wakes with a start to the sound of ringing and it takes him a few bleary eyed moments to realise it's his phone, loud even over the pounding of the rain outside. He frowns at the bright light as he picks it up, worry immediately catching in his throat when he sees Evan's name on the screen; it's close to 3am and from experience he knows that's rarely when people call with good news. "Hey babe, are you okay?" he says as he answers, rubbing his eyes as he sits up in bed. "The storm," Evan says, and Tommy's heart wrenches in his chest when he realises he's crying. "There wasn't supposed to be a storm."

🔥 John Doe|| @thatmexisaurusrex evan buckley/tommy kinard || 5.8k He was tanned. Not too tanned, but he definitely tanned more than burned in the sun. He had an aquiline nose, distinct cheekbones, and a cleft. He had curly hair; curly, chestnut brown hair. He was banged up from the hit and run. Cuts and bruises, though, the swelling was going down and the fresh red-purple was seeping into a yellow. Had three casts and almost lost his spleen. Dry lips from a week and a half asleep. He was breathing, though. Breathing steadily. He was Tara Kaplan’s first John Doe. And no one was sure if they would ever figure out who he was before he woke up.

🔥 want you more than a melody || @alchemistc evan buckley/tommy kinard || 2.5k “What are you looking for?” Tommy asks, and doesn’t linger at all on how at home Evan looks, just rifling through his things. He’d caught him sorting Tommy’s mail, last weekend, nothing overly curious, just piles of junk mail sorted away from the bills and the single postcard from his nephew, fingers drifting over the stocky block letters of Tommy’s name before he realized he’d been caught out, lips squeezing in like a kid tasting his first lemon. “The key to your china cabinet,” Evan tells him, still sorting, keys chiming merrily against each other. “Second drawer to the left of the fridge, little brass thing. It’s where I keep my ring cutter,” Tommy tells him, expanding heart and weak joints and all, as Evan grins at the joke and stalks halfway across the room in two wide, long-legged steps.

STATS: # of fics: 19 # of authors: 16 # of words read: 306.3k

[moonmaiden1996]

How would Law and Sanji deal with embarrasing sex-fails (like cumming before entering or loud farting)? 😄

Okay...I did not expect to love writing this one but OMG I DID!!! I am seriously thinking about writing more.

Trafalgar D. Water Law – The "Pretend It Didn't Happen" Approach

Law prides himself on being calm, composed, and in control. But if something embarrassing happens during sex? Oh, this man will mentally leave his own body.

He’s deep in the moment, pupils blown, voice low and raspy—he’s got you right where he wants you. And then?

Boom. Over before he even enters. Just a sticky puddle taunting him

Absolute silent panic. This is worse than death.

He freezes, processing what just happened. He doesn’t even blink. For a good five seconds, you might think he straight-up died. And then? He acts like it didn’t happen.

"Tch… That was just a test run." 😤 "Give me five minutes."

Cue him rolling onto his back, staring at the ceiling, regretting everything. He’s already running medical calculations in his head to figure out the fastest way to recover.

Does he make a self-deprecating joke? Nope. Does he acknowledge it? Absolutely not. Instead, he just stares at you like he’s daring you to say something.

Good luck holding in your laughter.

Imagine: You’re tangled up, things are getting heated, bodies pressed real close—and then…

PPPPPPFFFFTTT 💨

Law’s soul leaves his body instantly.

He stops. Just stops. Entirely still. Not even breathing.

"…That was your fault." He blames you immediately. Doesn’t matter if it was clearly him—he is the Surgeon of Death, and he will gaslight his way out of this.

If you laugh? Oh, he’s furious. Face in his hands, ears red, muttering "Why does this shit happen to me?" under his breath. He will refuse eye contact for the rest of the night.

If you try to comfort him? He’ll grumble something about digestion, bodily functions, and muscle contractions to make it sound scientific. Still embarrassed, but now nerdy about it.

Conclusion: Law cannot handle sex-fails. If one happens, he needs time to recover and possibly die inside a little. His overdramatic but quiet drama.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sanji – The "Dramatic Overreaction" Approach

Sanji is a man of passion, charm, and romance—but if something embarrassing happens in the bedroom? This man will lose his damn mind.

You’ve got Sanji all worked up—whispering dirty things in his ear, pressing against him, teasing. He’s already panting, body shaking with anticipation, and just as he’s about to enter— Game over.

This man CRIES. 😭💀

Drops face-first into your chest and just wails into your skin like he’s been personally betrayed by the universe. "Mon Amor… this is a DISASTER!!" 😩 "I didn’t even… I couldn’t even—!!"

He clutches his chest like he’s been mortally wounded. Kicks his legs under the sheets. He physically collapses. This man is full-body trembling like he’s in the middle of a Shakespearean tragedy. "I have failed you as a man." 😔💔

You’re laughing so hard you can’t breathe, but Sanji is NOT joking. He will refuse to look at you for at least an hour, lying face-down on the bed, absolutely devastated. The drama is unmatched.

The room is thick with passion—your hands are tangled in his hair, his lips are leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, and then— PPFFFTT— 💨 … Silence.

Sanji stops moving IMMEDIATELY.

Eyes wide as hell. Face instantly tomato-red.

And then?

This man straight-up tries to exit the room.

"Excusez-moi—I must leave, I must go, I—" He is already reaching for his pants like he’s about to abandon the situation entirely.

If you laugh? He DIES. Falls backward onto the bed, hand over his heart, groaning like he’s been mortally wounded.

"You must NEVER speak of this!!" 😫 "I can never show my face again!"

If you try to comfort him? He just dramatically throws himself into your arms like, "Why are you even still with me??"

The ONLY way to snap him out of it? Kiss him and tell him it was cute. Then suddenly he’s perking up, kissing your neck, pretending it never happened.

But he WILL remember. Forever.

Scenario: Sanji Going Down on You, But He Cums Early

You’re lying back, head resting on the pillow, legs parted just enough to let Sanji work his magic. His hands are gently caressing your thighs, lips trailing kisses along your inner leg. He’s absolutely obsessed with making you feel good, his entire focus on you. He starts slow—teasing, tasting, and gradually building up the tension between you two. You’re moaning softly, eyes fluttering shut, completely lost in the moment, when—

BAM.

It happens. He cums too soon.

Sanji pulls away immediately, face bright red, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape, completely mortified. He doesn’t even know how to respond. The room is silent for a good few seconds.

And then? He curls up into a ball of despair on the bed, covering his face with his hands like he’s just committed an unforgivable crime. "Mon dieu…!" he exclaims dramatically, his voice muffled through his hands. "How could I be so weak?? I—I'm so sorry! I ruined everything!"

He refuses to make eye contact, shaking his head as if the entire universe has conspired against him. If you try to comfort him, all he can do is mutter "I failed you again…" in a small, broken voice. The embarrassment is palpable, and he is convinced that you’re utterly disappointed.

But here’s the kicker—after the initial meltdown, when you hold him and whisper sweet things, he’s so needy for reassurance. His face is buried in your chest, and he murmurs, "I promise I'll make it up to you, I swear, please… let me try again."

And yes, he will try again. But first? He needs some time to recover. He’ll casually ask you if you want him to "start over" or take a break—his pride slightly bruised, but still determined to do whatever it takes to please you. He will definitely be between your legs making it up to you till he’s ready to demonstrate how much of a man he is. He'll definitely keep thinking about it, though. For the next month at least. Every time he gets close, he'll remember that one moment, and his dramatic overreaction will likely strike again. But don’t worry, eventually, he will get back into it with renewed passion and an even more intense focus—just make sure you’re prepared for the possibility of another emotional breakdown at any second!

Conclusion: Sanji falls apart if something goes wrong. He’ll cry, dramatically apologize, and refuse to look at you. But with a little reassurance, he’ll bounce back, though he’ll never forget it. All heart, but full of drama. Very much the definition of the loud, dramatic type

LIKE. COMMENT. REQUEST

[lovecharmforyou]

…. just asking this out of curiousity but… any ideas or headcanons on Hyunju x Sangwoo 👀? If you do requests like that ofc. Can always request smth else.

~hyun-ju x sang-woo headcanons/ideas~

this is my first time making headcanons! Sorry if the format isn’t perfect and kinda random haha. I had so much fun making this though hope u like. thanks so much for sending in this ask. I love that u fully made this ship btw I support so hard! Feel free to send In more asks!

— Sang-woo straight up offers to pay for Hyun-ju’s surgery 101 times but Hyun-ju is always too polite to accept money from him. Regardless, Sang-woo is always be willing to spend money on Hyun-ju- even if it’s his last 5$, in a second he’ll spend it on her

— Sang-woo lowkey wants to be a sugar daddy!husband

— When they first start getting to know each other, (outside the games) all Sang-Woo can do is buy Hyun-ju gifts with a quiet nod of the head when he gives them to her. It’s not him wanting to be the rich one showing off, or the powerful one of the two, he just doesn't know how else to show his affection yet. Its how he tries to woo her, but Hyun-ju ends up telling him she doesn't need the gifts or anything to spend time with him! She just wants to be with him

— Gift giving is 100% his love language and quality time is hers🥹<33

— In the games together, his brains and her skills… Them teaming up would be dangerous for everyone else, they could win every game so fast but- Hyun-ju would be wanting to save all these people and Sang-woo wouldn’t exactly want that, with every aspect he has to consider in each moment. But Hyun-ju knocks sense into Sang-woo and convinces him to help her help the rest of their team and friends they made on the inside.

— He’s smart, cynical and a little dark. So naturally he wants a very large portion of the money for himself, but he really takes into account what she says and softens up. Plus, he’d fold immediately and helps her with everything she asks of him after seeing how much she cares about these people and how they make her happy (and realizing how much he wants to make her happy))

— She helps him learn to be kind. She brings it out of him.

— Hyun-ju also brings out his protective side

— She brings out the best in him and he brings out the worst in her— the part of her that is seething with the world, and he sees that part of her and he loves every part of it. He wants to see the dangerous, strategic and tactical part (he sort of sees himself in her, although she is much more unconditionally nice), the spiteful part of her. But he also very much loves the overwhelmingly large sweet side of her. The caring and kind part that makes up most of who she is.

— Meeting in the middle of the good and bad parts of themselves, they use their skills together to win the games with the people they’ve grown to care about in there.

— After they’re out, he follows her to Thailand. Knowing how precious she is, how different and unlike anyone he’s ever met before, he'd never let her go ever again

— Late at night just two of them they’d smoke cigarettes on the beach and watch the stars twinkle

— Sang-woo would propose in a shockingly fast amount of time, under the bright moonlight of a full moon, completely silent other than the sound of waves washing up on the beach. The Intimate moment shared only between the two.

— (Hyun-ju totally cries and is a little bit in disbelief, but saying yes would be the easiest decision of her life)

— Him being so traditional, he puts a big-big diamond ring on her finger and absolutely loves it, as does she

— Their play-fights would turn into a real competition fast. At first, Hyun-ju would feign weakness and lose. But once she gets more comfortable around him, she'd let loose and let herself show her true strength and be her honest unapologetic self. She never thought it was possible to be so okay with being herself with another person. And to be so validated doing so. During their first “playfight” where she lets herself use more strength and technique, she surprises him and catches him off guard, pinning him to the ground. He looks at her in with a small expression of awe, while attempting to be as respectful as ever, he wouldn’t be able to hide the look of amazement on his face

— He's smitten with her strength, her mind, her abilities, to be kind, to be selfish. All of it, all of them.

— And she would love him the very same, and knock some much needed sense into this man

-

I <3 Hyun-ju x Sang-woo

[jackalope-patronus]

Wait but ur my new fav writer and I just thought of another one. Y’know in the game when there’s the option to do crucio on seb or yourself? I’d love a fic like that but where seb has a better reaction and just holds us and comforts us and ominis is lowkey third wheeling but also being comforting. Sorry I’m literally in love with Sebastian. Just something where he shushes us and kisses our head or something. I feel like the game (and movies) the cruciatus curse was very underwhelming, compared to how it was described. It’s used to torture and can make the victims go insane, it is so excruciating. It can even make people forget where they are.

Im so sorry. Tell me if im being overbearing. Thank you so much

summary :: You find yourself in an all too familiar situation, with Sebastian’s wand pointed your way and the words “Crucio.” Coming from his mouth.

warning :: torture, crucio, trauma!

note :: you’re not being overbearing at all! I really enjoy interacting with you and your ideas. A few different writers have created their own version of this scenario so I’ve done a little spin to make it just a tad bit more original.

“Anything to do with Salazar Slytherin is dangerous.”

You remember Ominis saying that some years ago, although you think you’ve misremembered a word or two from his original warning. The scriptorium was years ago. Sebastian, Ominis and you had long since graduated and settled down.

You and Sebastian had even married.

Although your school days felt distant your body seemed to remember because it was shivering at the sight of Sebastian holding his wand towards you.

“Cast it on me.” You’d said. And at first he said no, absolutely not. He would never cast such a cruel curse on his wife! The anger recollected in Ominis’s eyes spoke the words you already have.

That’s why you told him it was okay, and that it was nothing you hadn’t handled before. Opening a chamber kept by Salazar Slytherin by casting crucio, all three of you had been there! It was almost nostalgic. Almost.

“I can’t. You must cast it on me.” Sebastian’s grip on his wand faltered.

“No, Sebastian. You know I won’t.” You shook your head gently.

“Ominis—”

“Don’t you dare ask me, you know I would never.” Ominis had found a corner of the darkly lit tunnel to retreat to.

“You have to mean it. I’m not sure I’ll be able to— not again. You’re my wife.” Sebastian sputtered.

“Please Sebastian, don’t drag it out. I’d rather not stay trapped in this place much longer.” You tried to smile softly, but you knew it was no use. Your husband knows you, he can see past every fake smile.

He didn't utter a word but instead his face grew graver and he observed you carefully. You know his thoughts, you can practically hear them. Is she too frail for this? She’s handled it before, but what if it’s somehow different this time? Will there be a lasting effect? His eyes darted quickly to your tummy, but you placed a hand over your stomach to sheild yourself from his thoughts. What if she’s pregnant? It’s intrusive at best, you both know you’re not pregnant. You began to feel your stomach churn sickly in anticipation so you hardened your face. Sebastian got the signal and regained a strong grip on his wand.

You remembered seeing his knuckles blanch, before he cast the curse.

“Crucio!”

It’s familiar, a pain you recall from nightmares. One your brain liked to remind you of on sleepless nights whilst Sebastian laid beside you. You don’t blame him for it, you were children. Would you have blamed him for it now? Blame him for relenting and casting this torture on you, his wife? But you couldn’t bear him feeling it, feel the charring of nerves and the agony of retracting muscles. He doesn’t deserve it. Nobody does, but especially not him. You love him too much to think otherwise.

By the time the magic relented, you’ve regressed into a fetal lay on the floor, with twitches of remaining aches and quiet, voiceless cries coming from you.

You’re quickly scooped up into Sebastian’s warmth.

“The book Sebastian… you’ve got to get the book.” Your eyes are foggy, but you can recall only that you need to help Sebastian get a spell book to cure Ann.

However, you weren’t inside the scriptorium hidden in the walls of Hogwarts and you weren’t looking for Slytherin’s spellbook. Sebastian gazed at Ominis with a fraught face. The blonde only clutched his wand and turned his head away miserably.

“For Ann, For Ann,” you murmur.

“It’s alright. We found the book, my darling.” Sebastian’s voice was hoarse with emotion and he brought your head to his lips, uttering another reassurance before kissing your temple. He had hardly noticed the path to your exit had finally opened, he didn’t much care for anything other than your abused body.

Another incoherent mutter came from you, although the tight embrace of Sebastian’s arms matured you to reality, but a woozy reality.

“She's barely lucid. We must get her to a healer.” Ominis’ voice came as a strong command, but it barely moved Sebastian from holding you on the cold, stone floor.

You uttered something again and Ominis couldn’t be sure what it was, but Sebastian knew it was filled with sorry and regret. Whatever lingered in your mind, whether memory or illusion, made you small and weak. The complete opposite of how Sebastian knew you.

Warm lips still at your temple, Sebastian hushed you calmly, although the lump in his throat threatened to ruin him. “Ann is well. You are well.” He whispered. Both lies. His hand began to pat down your hair, removing stray strands from your face.

“Sebastian,” Ominis barked and this time, he listened.

His arms around you tightened and you were lifted further into him and away from the floor that made you shiver. “What should we do?” He pleaded.

You could now see a blurry Ominis lean over you. “Put her to sleep, give her mind a rest from the pain for a moment.”

The last thing you could hear was Sebastian muttering the sleep charm whilst both of your dearest friends looked upon you with misery. Then a peaceful rest finally found you.

[hyperbolicreverie]

For the Director's Cut ask game, in Losing Time

How was the reaction of mugiwaras when Robin explained about flevance? And in what moment she did?

Robin would have explained during that first night, while Penguin and Shachi and Bepo were off doing their own painful explanations to the rest of the Heart Pirates. And it wouldn't be a terribly detailed explanation, either: one, Robin respects Law's rights to privacy as much as she can in this instance, and two, she herself does not have the whole truth of what happened, which means she can only take her own knowledge and the few other bits that they have (what Penguin and Shachi say, the small anecdotes Sanji remembers) and try to explain that way. She's a good historian; she'd never make concrete assertions without all the facts or the permission of a primary source ie. Law.

So what she says more or less boils down to "Flevance was destroyed because of a perceived plague that the government aided and abetted in the exacerbation of, and contributed to the destruction of to hide their own involvement. Law is the last survivor of that genocide."

As for reactions...we know Sanji's and Robin's, since they were there for the initial discussion. The rest?

Nami gets that explanation and I think a lot of things click into place for her. She's very smart, and I think she'd make a lot of connections to how Law acts in the face of certain triggers (loss of control, for example) and see herself in that. And she loves children, so now she has to confront the fact that the quiet little boy from the forest becomes the Law she knows. (Maybe she wonders how different she's become from how she was before her own tragedy).

Franky cries. Of course Franky cries. He probably blubbers something about how impressive it is for Law to have held up in the face of that, and if adult!Law saw that he'd probably threaten to chop his limbs off because he'd be embarrassed.

Chopper, predictably, is absolutely horrified. On like, every level. On the medical misunderstandings, on the abandonment of the government, of the lack of care. Chopper already likes Law, and he knows what it's like to lose something to a medical condition you do not know how to heal.

Zoro's take on it is fairly pragmatic. He's experienced life not being fair. He knows that sometimes people just die and there's nothing you can do about it. Law has proven that he's made of strong stuff before this point, and this only proves that point more. If anything, in addition to sympathizing, Zoro respects him more.

Luffy's reaction is basically what you get in the chapter where he talks to little Law. He makes those possible connections between Law's actions in Marineford and Ace, and later when he learns about Lami about how that adds even more context. However, Luffy is Luffy, and he's not ever going to act differently around Law or poke him for more information. He doesn't share himself, and it's fine that Torao doesn't either. If Law wants to talk, he can talk. If he doesn't, that's fine too. Luffy already likes Law and knows what sort of person he is.

Brook knows death. He's polite enough to not comment on seeing the clear markers of tragedy on others, but I imagine getting the explanation fills in a lot of questions he had about Law.

Jinbei is probably the least surprised. He knows what the World Government does and he knows all the sorts of things that can drive people into piracy. It's just a shame that he has to keep adding to that tally, because he considers Law to be an honorable sort. He saved his life. And now this.

Usopp is freaked. Law is one of the most powerful people he's met personally (and one who doesn't want him dead). It's a reminder that on the Grand Line, no one is immune from bad luck, bad experiences, and you're always just an inch away from the worst day of your life.

[andarans]

a love letter to dragon age.

i’ve been trying to cope with the news that all the dragon age devs have been laid off or reassigned these past two days, and i just…. it’s hard. it might sound silly to say but i’ve barely been able to do anything because i feel as if i’ve lost a family member. took today to have a good cry. dragon age was such a formative series for me. i joke all the time i got into it for the romances and stayed for the lore but really everything about it i love, dearly. i love that each companion and side character had stories that moved me and made me cry, stories i could relate to even in a world with magic and dragons. i love how the lore is presented, including the brilliance that is the codex—that you’re never quite sure who to believe, that discovering the truth requires you to be an archaeologist. i love how my choices always mattered, that decision i made in origins affected my playthrough in inquisition. i loved the message dragon age as a series sent, about corruption, about power, about propaganda. dragon age influenced so much of my fantasy tastes and own writing and art. it left such a huge mark on my artistic inspirations and work. hell, my first ever dnd character was a tiefling that pretty much looks like a qunari with having a backstory that affected the world she was in, reminiscent of the depiction of elves in dragon age (still one of my favorite and nuanced takes on elves in fantasy, btw). even with the dnd campaign and world i’m writing now, i see dragon age in nooks and crannies. i wrote so much fanfic and drew so much fanart and made so many theories and anxiously followed every bit of news for the development cycle of veilguard. i’d watch the game awards every year with my friend hoping for dragon age news. speaking of friends, god i made so many friends because of dragon age. that common interest sparked so many fun conversations and ideas. i even was a writer for an anders focused dragon age charity zine.

above all i loved the community around dragon age. sure, fandoms all have its moments and toxicity, but by and large my experience with the DA community was wonderful. i love getting to see people’s OCs and world states because i also obsess over my DA OCs and world states. i love getting to see people write theses about dragon age’s themes and masters worthy character studies. the communal love for this world and its characters is so, so profoundly inspiring.

i’ve spent so much time moping but i do want to highlight what i loved about each game and my favorite characters.

DAO: my first intro to the series. by god the gameplay was so slow but the story and characters and lore and writing made it SO worth it. made me appreciate CRPGs too. alistair ended up becoming my favorite character, i remember actually gasping and blushing at the rose moment in his romance. the landsmeet is still one of my favorite quests, i love fantasy political intrigue. morrigan also was my best friend, when she called my warden a sister i cried.

DA2: one of the most underrated games by far. i loved the smaller scale, i loved how personal hawke’s story felt, i loved every single companion and this found family. fenris was my first romance and one of my favorites, he is so complex and misunderstood and secretly has the best sense of humor. i think anders ended up becoming my favorite though—god, anders. i could speak about him for hours but i appreciate the DA devs for what they did for him and letting us romance him. anders made me appreciate his character archetype so much; he is such a tragic man transformed by bitterness and vengeance and rage. “ten years from now, a hundred years from now, someone like me will love someone like you, and there will be no templars to tear them apart.” i love you anders.

DAI: i love the inquisitor. i love how tragic of a character the inquisitor is, ripped from their life and forced to become an idol for a movement they might not even believe in. a lot of people criticize DAI for being “the chosen one” cliché, but it’s not. it’s a critique of that very trope and how it destroys a person. the inquisitor is forced to become an idea, and it does not matter who they actually are; they have all autonomy taken from them, and that is horrifying. cullen ended up ruining my life for a good amount of time, his romance is my favorite in all the series and god he got such a good redemption and ending. (i even bought cullen themed soap from a local convention, lol. i’m telling you i was obsessed). and in my replay solas’ romance absolutely destroyed me, turning him from my dearly detested to my dearly beloved. god trick weekes i will miss you so much, thank you for writing solas.

DAV: i know how contentious veilguard is. believe me i have many of my own criticisms. but i still love it anyway. i love the companions, all of them, i love how act 3 absolutely fucking gutted me and made me cry twice. i loved the amazing visuals and character creator and ost and environments. i love the QOL improvements. i loved seeing the cameos and my inquisitor again. there’s so much to love in veilguard and i’d rather talk about how much i love it than what i didn’t. lucanis was my first romance and while there wasn’t as much content as i was hoping for, i sincerely appreciate what we did get. i love how ride or die he is, how his love language is acts of service, how he’s afraid to hurt rook. i love his facial animations in his romance, i love zach mendez’s performance. i’m hoping to play emmrich and davrin’s next, and i’m sure i’ll love them too.

it’s hard to accept the fact that dragon age is probably over. it makes me sad knowing we’ll never find out about certain lore questions or know what DA5 could’ve looked like. and i’m still so angry for the developers and how they’re so callously treated and thrown away by EA/bioware. sometimes i wonder if the same thing would’ve happened if veilguard sold more. but it’s not helpful to dwell on these what-ifs, because we’ve seen how the industry treats both successful games and what they deem as failures: layoffs and no remorse. i hope the team finds work soon. i hope they realize how loved their work is. i hope someday the game industry is completely, wholly unionized. i’m glad at least we got veilguard to answer the biggest questions we’ve had.

thank you, DA devs, for everything. thank you for answering our silly questions about your characters favorite coffee flavors and perfect date nights. thank you for bringing them to life. i won’t stop playing the games or making art or fic. i won’t stop being inspired. dragon age lives on in my creations, in my dnd characters, in everything. i hope to be back in thedas soon, one day. dareth shiral.

[ineedtotalkaboutshadamyrightnow]

Elise's dad breaks Solaris trying to get Elise's mom back, thus dooming the world. Shadow chooses to save Rouge instead of stopping the scepter of darkness from breaking and releasing Mephelis, thus dooming the world. Sonic gives up a Chaos Emerald (a real one this time) to Doctor Eggman to save Elise, thus... at the very least badly imperiling the world, because, you know, Eggman. Silver refuses to send Blaze away as the vessel for Iblis, thus not saving the world (she does it herself). Even Omega has to grapple with the fact that he's going to betray Shadow at some point once he becomes an enemy of the world, thus saving (?) the world. Rouge, as established, would stand by Shadow against the world. And in the end, of course, Elise cries when Sonic dies, thus ending the world, and she says she doesn't care what happens to the world if it means giving up Sonic, but she has to make the choice for the greater good anyways. You could even argue that the motivation of Mephelis is not to necessarily destroy the world, just to be reunited with Iblis, even if it destroys the world in the process.

It's unfortunate that the design of the game itself really gets in the way of this narrative being appreciable, and people looking at it on a surface level just think it's stupid.

to be honest, I dont have a problem with this characterization. I think it shows the different kind of heroes there are. Sonic, imo, is the kind of hero that wrestles with the responsibility of the world over his own personal connections (not saying he would sacrifice his friends over the world ofc just that he would sooner sacrifice himself than make that choice). To me, Amy is so loyal that she'd choose Sonic and friends over the world, and i don't think that's wrong or weird, I think its relatable.

its one of those things that I think Sonic and Amy do/would struggle with if they were to be in an intimate relationship. and frontiers kind of does highlight this idea since Sonic comes to terms with the fact that he has chosen being a great hero over personal interests.

but I'm just musing, i can see it both ways why this characterization of Amy would be bothersome but also where it kind of makes sense.

[opikiquu]

my life a movie (PSYCHOLOGICAL HORROR)

[dreamsy990]

YAY I GOT THIS DONE ON HIS BIRTHDAY. HAPPY BIRTHDAY HAJIMEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE YOU RUINED MY LIFE AND ALSO MAYBE SAVED MY LIFE. WHO THE FUCK KNOWS I DO LIKE YOU A LOT THOUGH

[cantfightmoonlight]

"Most people would disagree," She pointed quietly out. Her shoulders lifted and fell into a small shrug as she curled her legs closer into her chest. There was a reason people vampires monsters after all. "Hm," She pressed her lips together. Her nose scrunched slightly as she quietly observed, "That's a really fucked up way to start a birthday speech."

"Jonah had literally said out loud that he had brought the bat wine opener for me to make up for the past two years and, even if you hadn't been there the year before or the year before that, I did vocally chose to not pick a living breathing bunny for some silly wine opener, so if that didn't show that it held some sentimentality, I don't know what would," She let out a soft sigh as she slowly pulled herself up to her feet. Opening the door of the confessional, she forced herself to hold her head high despite every bone in body wanting to shrink away. "I know it was just a game and that my reaction probably seemed over the top or uncalled for. But, I'm also a newly turned vampire whose starving on a daily basis, so the fact that I haven't lost my cool before now is actually fairly impressive and I did apologize to your sister, by the way. After the fact. Not that it erases anything. But, in terms of the past two years, well," She gave him another small shrug. "During the first White Elephant, I took a gift from Bexley just as Frankie did and was yelled at, taunted by nearly everyone in the room, and called Cruella. No one came to my defense and, when I did pick another gift, a silly Vampire garlic press that my cousin brought, some girl stole in laughed in my face telling me how it served me right. The second White Elephant, my best friend brought the same bat garlic press and made fun of the fact that I cried the year before, stabbed me and told me she had fucked my boyfriend before we had gotten together, and now, for a third year in a row, I've been called a monster and an entitled bitch. So, if the shoe fits, I guess I'll wear it. Though, for the record, I wasn't crying because of a game. I was crying because every Christmas, I relive the day I wanted to kill myself and Rangi just so happened to remind me that it was birthday."

Bri's voice was steady, almost casual. But, there was an emptiness to it, like she was reciting fact instead of feelings. She wasn't trying to make him feel bad or pity her. She wasn't looking for some sort of reaction. She just didn't have the energy or emotional investment anymore to sugarcoat it. Her deep brown eyes were dull. Her voice numb as she told him quietly, "I don't really have anymore fight in me and you didn't exactly say anything I haven't been told a hundred times over. So, here," She held out the singular birthday cupcake she had been cradling, but hadn't brought herself to try. "Have a cupcake. It's supposed to be a party."

The satan comment made Jacob's eyes roll. "You're not satan." A correction he made quickly and with certainty. He'd met plenty of devils in his life but didn't count Brielle among them. Even with their, recent, differences considered. "Yeah." An admittance he probably shouldn't have made so casually. It was just in his nature to be honest. "It did."

Tattooed hands drug down the stretch of the witch's face as he sighed. Never a natural at communicating, Jacob struggled to articulate what he wanted to say. A white flag felt most appropriate given the tension in the confession box. "I apologize for the name calling, and the f and the u comment. I don't know why you were upset that night, but I could've asked. I should've asked." It was no secret by now that his family was one of his buttons, so he didn't bother explaining himself. An apology also felt a little hollow coupled with excuses.

Jacob thought Lunar Cove, his home, the only safe haven left for supernaturals, would never survive if they couldn't at least tolerate one another. He could swallow his pride and extend an olive branch in the name of the greater good. Which he'd tried to articulate in his Eulogy and again, privately, to Bri. "I don't want to fight with you. We love some of the same people, and we all have much bigger problems to focus on than one another. So... you don't have to be in the Jacob Sullivan fan club.." He stifled a laugh at himself at how ridiculous such a thing sounded. "..but maybe we can agree about that?"

[warrenwaskilledbyadeer]

Can we talk about how the heart and soul of the original Ace Attorney trilogy centers around how Phoenix loves his sister Maya so much he will do literally anything for her but all the fandom wants to talk about is Wrightworth

(HAD TO EDIT THE POST BECAUSE PLEASE DO NOT TAG SHIP)