#i just want to move through the world in peace

[galene-gothic]

𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗌

୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ I hope this reading found you in good health, every reblog is appreciated and thank you for everything :) ˖♡ ˎˊ˗ ꒰ 🐇 ꒱

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⊹ ! ೀ Pile 1 ꒱

Trigger warning

Your bare face is gorgeous. I’m not sure why I felt the need to say that but it just came through and I couldn’t ignore it. Your lips are an area of focus in this reading as well. I’m not sure what it is about your lips - it could be that you have naturally pink lips, cupid bow ones or have hyperpigmentation around your lips that make it look like you have a natural lip liner (it’s going to be different for everyone) but no matter what, they’re extremely gorgeous. Maybe because it’s winter in the northern hemisphere, many of you could wear lip balms, petroleum jelly or lip glosses but it gives your lips a wet appearance. If not, you lick and bite your lips a lot, like even if you don’t have any of the attributes mentioned above, the way you move your lips, the way you touch it, lick it, bite it, everything just gives you a different vibe. Now moving beyond your lips because while I could sing praises about them all day, I want the reading to consist of more. Your energy is such that when people see your vices or perceived ‘flaws’, it doesn’t disinterest them but instead only add more dimension to you. It makes you more attractive to them because they experience a certain ‘rawness’ in you that they might not get to experience elsewhere in this world due to how everyone is striving for perfection to the point they all seem manufactured. You’re someone who people stare at when in cafés or public places and I’m so sorry but you have fallen victim to catcalling possibly multiple times especially when you were younger than you are right now. You didn’t deserve that. People find themselves losing a certain level of consciousness when they’re close to you, especially physically. You cause people to feel a heat when around you and even away from you, it depends on the person, sometimes it is a gentle warmth that envelops them, sometimes it is a certain hotness running through their that makes it hard for them to contain themselves around you, to even breathe around you, let alone act normal and sometimes it is in the form of jealousy, people of the same sex or who are interested in increasing their appeal but haven’t been able to find their own spark feel intimidated by your scorching heat that seems to engulf all around it unapologetically. One thing that I need to warn you about is that you definitely have people who are jealous of you. You don’t even seem to notice it but when you’re out, people who are literally taken tend to check you out right in front of them, causing their partner to feel a certain hostility towards you. People stare at you a lot, it is very obvious. It’s come through multiple times. Right now, you’re someone who is just very nonchalant. You don’t hold onto connections too tightly, let alone chase them.

You used to formerly speak with your eyes a lot with certain people, it created a sense of knowing, belonging, connection and familiarity but now you just walk past those same people like you don’t know them or you might greet them, smile at them but you don’t seem to have the same gaze in your eyes anymore, often breaking eye contact quickly or not even caring enough to maintain it, it causes them to feel hurt sometimes, wondering if they never meant anything to you, if you just forgot them, if they were just that forgettable to you but it also makes you irresistibly attractive to them. You’ve developed a certain peace within yourself, there were days when you didn’t know how to live or had forgotten how to do so. You had become very internal, causing you to live within yourself and with it came a lot of overthinking. You used to hold onto grief and people could have underestimated you back then but you have moved far past that. You’ve become more present and mindful, you have started living beyond your mind. You’re starting to smile more, live more and keep your life, treasure it, even if it isn’t perfect, even if it didn’t turn out the way you had imagined. You’ve definitely had a past that was full of tears. It was difficult but you’ve left it all behind, this sense of presence and contentment is adding onto your attractiveness because the sorrow you’ve experienced has also given you a lot of wisdom. One thing that you don’t want to fall into is mourning and desperation because you have experienced both. ‘Extreme nostalgia’ is what I just heard. The sorrow you’ve experienced on your path, the tears that you’ve cried are the very things that are helping you move forward with such confidence and self assuredness. Since you’ve experienced so much, many dark thoughts too, possibly suicidal ones for some of you and have always managed to find a way out, you just feel like things will turn out fine in the end. You have tortured yourself enough in the past, it’s time to live now. That’s how you think and this shift is noticeable because you’re just focused on your own life. Your perception of connections especially romantic ones is that while they’re beautiful, people can burst your bubble so you just want to be discerning enough to only let a certain kind of people into your life like that. You desire to love but it’s not that big of a desire anymore, everyone wants love, to give and receive it, to be desired and desire someone but the way you look at it is “I’ve been there, I’m glad I’m out”, you’re just glad to be over it. It doesn’t even have to be romantic, I’m picking up on major disappointments in connections in general, causing you to prioritise yourself first and foremost.

You’re actually a hopeless romantic, a devotee. When you love, it’s very deep for you, your love is of divine nature. There’s no wandering eyes or anything of that sort, there’s just your person who you hold to be dear, almost divine, your love is devotional, almost like worship. I wonder if there was a point when you were devoted to the platonic or/and romantic connections in your life just for them to end and you were devastated about at least one or a few of them but the fact that you’ve managed to come out of it has given you more power because you know how deep your love runs, you know how you love and what kind of love you give out, and desire for yourself so it gives you the self assuredness that you deserve similar energy. You hold yourself and others to a high standard but if they don’t live up to it, you just abandon them and move forward. It’s nothing malicious but you just don’t see the point in getting caught up in the waiting game, training game or sticking around to entertain less than what you know you deserve. You have a different, slightly detached and elusive vibe to you. Your eyes and words tend to teleport people to a different world, not literally obviously but that’s what it feels like for them. Your energy is not possible to ignore, it bothers those around you because of the elusiveness mixed with the heat that I mentioned earlier but it’s not a bother that they ever want to get rid of. They enjoy the feeling of slight discomfort that comes from your presence. You interact with people very casually, not with everyone obviously but your ease of interacting with others is something that adds to your attractiveness. The vibe that I’m getting from you is that some people are bothered by your heat, others find it warm but both of these parties do not even realise when you started filling their world with nothing but yourself, it just hits them randomly and so strongly. I’m picking up on a romantic vibe from you and your beauty, it seems very gentle despite the heat you radiate. You’re also full of contradictions, despite your heat, you have a romantic appeal but despite the gentleness and elusiveness of it, you really confuse people. Some of you get turned on by fighting, not the excessive toxic kind of fighting but the dramatic yet silly ones that add to the pulse on your vertical lips are very much welcome by you 😭. I keep on hearing ‘what do you mean?’ by Justin Bieber here. “Don’t know if you’re happy or complaining”, “first you wanna go to the left and then turn right, wanna argue all day, make love all night.” You feel like home while simultaneously repulsing people. You’re a complex person full of contradictions and that’s what seems to make you attractive. I hope that you enjoyed this reading. Thank you for reading, much love and take care.

⊹ ! ೀ Pile 2 ꒱

This pile is for you if you have been touching and rubbing yourself a lot recently or just do so a lot generally. You have an intense sexual nature but really innocent eyes. You also crave fairytale love, like the innocent kind of love that doesn’t include touching and rubbing but just an eye contact makes you feel something, just an accidental brushing of skin is enough to make blood rush up to your cheeks, that’s the kind of love you desire and also give out but despite that, your sexual energy slips past your fairly pure and innocent exterior. Despite your love for consuming romantic content, you are not desperate for it. You understand that it’s a luxury to be with you and act like it. You know that people pleasing is self betrayal so you do not go out of your way to please others but at the same time, when they’re around you, you do please them? It just comes naturally to you. Much like the last pile, I’m getting something with the lips but in this pile, either you have plump lips, have a protruding lower lip or just pout a lot. Maybe, it’s just a natural slightly pouty appearance but I’m literally getting flying kisses so I’m not sure. Despite this innocent appearance and your desire for romance, you are very good at leaving people behind. You’ve learned that it’s best not to overstay your welcome anywhere. You’re someone who leaves people and things behind at the required pace, and you do not even seem to care about what anyone might think. You are fine with being lonely, what you’re not fine is getting used and heartbroken by people who might not have your best interests at heart. You have always had this delicate balance between being a friend and a lover. This could have led to misunderstandings in the past, you tend to treat your friends affectionately and generously, and those of the opposite sex or the sex you are interested in romantically might misunderstand, taking it as a free pass to underestimate and disrespect you? It has likely happened at some point in the past, definitely not for all of you but this quality of yours makes you very attractive. Also, when you fall apart from such people, they aren’t even able to voice out how much they miss you because you didn’t have a relationship set in stone and you just act as though you never even met them, as if you don’t know them, never did. In the past, you may have been unable to maintain this delicate balance or might perceive it as such but you are starting to go forward in life with stronger boundaries and that makes you very attractive.

I wouldn’t be surprised if some or in fact, many of you stopped making friends with the opposite sex due to such misunderstandings and disrespect. People from the past miss you, they’re terribly attracted to you and you’re irreplaceable but you’ve clearly grown out of that. If not, this is not your pile. I’m getting a lot of youthful energy here. It’s not just this delicate balance that has made you feel misunderstood in the past but also your friendships with people of the same sex. I’m legit getting friends from school missing you if you’re out of it and away from them (especially if you separated from them connection wise). You do not realise just how hard the nostalgia hits people of the past when it comes to you. People remember you as ‘the one that got away’ honestly and I hate this concept because it’s just sad, and I believe in true love being present, and not getting away but yes, you’re awfully missed. This is funny but people realise that they love or miss you at around 1-3 a.m. in the morning. You have something melancholic and lonely about you but also something so wholesome, and warm at the same time but you also interact with them by rolling eyes, sighing, vacantly staring, calling them dumb and saying something like “who cares?” All of this is dearly missed when you’re gone. You shouldn’t have to get away for people to want you, to appreciate and desire you, to treat you kindly, and with love and respect. You have this thing where you naturally love your friends a lot and don’t hold them inferior to other connections but this has led to you naturally relying on them and also treating them with a lot of love, and priority, and it was not rewarding for you because they used to develop hostility towards you over time for some reason. You’re very attractive to those from the past because they’ll genuinely never find someone like you anywhere. You’re an unconditionally loving person but you also understand that it’s better not to get involved in the lives of messy people. Also, you have a very casual and friendly way of interacting with people when they’re around you, you greet people and treat them as though you’ve known them for years at least for the amount of time that you’re around them even if you’ve just met them. You also have a tendency to be mean and get on people’s nerves but it only makes you more endearing because they get obsessed yet repulsed by you.

There’s something very innocent and pure, almost naive about you but also someone so dirty and mature. The energy here is a bit more contradictory but your contradictions are what seem to make you attractive. People who are used to being in control and are able to read others well find themselves being unable to remain controlled when around you and fail to read you, causing them to be frustrated, intrigued or/and drawn to you. There’s just something different about you that makes others feel like they’re changing, they’re shaking up, it’s not something that they can even put a finger on, it just is. People can’t help but want you around after meeting you, your presence and energy are intoxicating. I wouldn’t be surprised if once you enter a new environment, you see specific people everywhere around you because they just want to be close to you even if it’s from a distance. Many of you here seem to look like puppies or possess that kind of energy. This is the pile where you attract or at least intrigue those slightly older than you. Even people who claimed to ‘not date someone younger than them EVER’ can’t help but be curious about you, be attracted to you. Despite your youthful and puppy like energy, it’s them that feel like a puppies? Like, after meeting you, initially you’re the one acting like a puppy, treating them well and lighting up when you see them but the more the time starts passing by they feel like you’re not taking them seriously, they’re the one following you around everywhere, wanting to prove themselves to you, they do not even understand why they feel so lovesick without you around as if they were a puppy without their owner. Also, another thing is that some people have their youth attached to you and well, they’re still attracted to you even if you’re no longer in touch. Time passes by too fast when you’re around, people find themselves wishing that the hours would go slow so that they could spend more time with you. You’re a piece of warm sunlight of the first spring when it’s not hot yet but just a pleasant weather with a slight amount of coldness that vanishes when you graze their skin. You’re a joy to be around - a dream girl. You’re pleasant because there’s nothing too imposing about you but your energy though gentle and soft in nature is felt strongly, enveloping all that’s around you. People can’t help but want to be a part of your world. There’s also a sense of fragility that I’m picking up on here but it’s something that others feel fortunate to see about you. I hope that you enjoyed this reading. Thank you for reading, much love and take care.

⊹ ! ೀ Pile 3 ꒱

I think that some of you love dancing or just enjoy being young and enjoying life, being present. You’re just so candid, there’s something youthful and timeless about you due to how present you are because you’re someone who actively tries to be present. You do not want to perish with time which is why you try to make every moment count, to have adventures, to try and live your dreams, to leave a legacy. “People will not remember what you wore but they will remember how you made them feel.” You seem to have a solid understanding of this and try to make others feel good about themself and life itself. You’re very busy making the most out of your youth and out of your life but in your presence, you try to make sure that others don’t feel left out, you try to be as inclusive as possible, understanding that they too will only live once. You have an energy that’s everlastingly young about you and your eyes are very attractive, like they’re just captivating regardless of their size, shape and colour. Your eyes give you an appearance of goodness because they look like eyes that would belong to someone good, they’re open, inviting and warm but it seems like more of a disguise once you’re gone because when people run into you or are around you again after a falling out of some sort, your eyes lack that old familiar warmth that once greeted them and they feel an actual ache at the thought that your life continued on without them. You are someone who won’t stop your life for anyone, you want to have fun and spend your life joyfully so when you’re not getting that with certain people or in certain environments, you’re quick to pull yourself and continue on with your life, trying to make it as beautiful and celebratory as possible. Many really extravagant words are coming through for you, I wonder if your energy is a bit dramatic and extravagant too. You are someone who knows how to touch people and gently persuade them but remain distant, causing people to admire you and almost need you. There are times when people think that you’re wasting their time and try to give up on you but something happens that causes them to lose their discernment and heart to you again.

It’s hard to stay composed when you’re around because you just make them feel like little children. I find this endearing, you have a way of making everything very personal. You make memories with people and one thing in particular that stands out to me as attractive is when you call people by their name, it feels personal, it feels sweet. However, most people do not come forth to you beyond yearning for you. You’ve probably had friends confess to you in the past, out of nowhere. You’re very loveable in every sense of the word and people who share closeness to you or once did cannot help but wish for more than that. Many people do not even manage to get as close to you as they’d like to. There’s a lot of fear attached to confessing their feelings for you. The helplessness attached to liking you makes you irresistibly attractive, pretty much obsessively magnetic. Seduction is supposed to be subtle, it’s supposed to be non threatening, that’s what your attractiveness is like. I won’t lie, you do have a very scary attractive appeal too, like people who are attracted to you right away but even so, you win them over more and more over time. When you are around people, the world seems to stop but they don’t even notice it until after a while, they’ll have no clue when it started, when it got so deep. People do have a recognition of a connection with you from the start itself, of course it isn’t like that for everyone and it doesn’t have to be but those who recognise this are still unable to voice it out, however, if you’ve experienced this, you’re probably aware of how they act because their actions and mannerisms likely do give away their feelings. I’m picking up on humiliation, ridicule of looks, etc. You seem to have glowed up, take good care of yourself physically and dress to the best of ability, carrying yourself with your head held high because you remember how you were treated when you weren’t as attractive. This could be something like people close to you leaving you or disrespecting you too, it seems to extend beyond just looks actually, you’ve glowed up mentally and emotionally too. Also, you are forgetting the past, you are trying to, you have grown and don’t want it to hold any power over you at all. You are not in denial or anything, in fact, the kind of ‘forgetting’ seems to be a very healthy one, you’re naturally letting things go without regrets.

You make people feel very young, to share an innocent bond with you, full of memories, they can’t help but yearn for you. It’s your friends and those you share communities with that find you to be the most attractive. Also, you’re someone who literally doesn’t have regrets in terms of connections because you’ve always done your best, you’ve always given your all. You have really strong self respect, it was likely developed with time and experience but those you share memories and past with, if they were struggling, you’d not let them come back in order to search for comfort, support and companionship because you remember how they left. Those who have lost you have especially had to pine for you, the realisation that there’s no one like you is hitting them. Many of these people, even platonic connections seem to have acted like you weren’t all that in the past but now the reality of having lost you is starting to set in. Some of you have nice thick hair or you do something that makes it look full, you could simply just leave it open for example, some of you here use a lot of eye pencil, liner or eyeshadow too probably in brown or black, if not you just have captivating eyes like I said earlier. Your energy brings about a heat that is hard to ignore, it’s usually a strong heat than just a warmth, the type to make people act out of control because they’re not sure how to act around you. It’s like you make them lose control and feel hot, and they regret certain things they say or do but still crave more of it because it’s addictive. The way you move too, gosh, you might not even pay that much attention to it but you’re so attractive like lethally attractive. I keep on getting a theme of you wasting people’s time but it doesn’t even seem to be intentional, you just move on with your life is all. You come off as someone who’s like “if we meet again, we meet, if we don’t, you have my memories to remember me by.” You make everything feel like a movie - a dream - in fact. People get so attached to you, they get so used to you, when you’re not around even the most familiar place starts feeling strange. Some of you could possess dimples or one single dimple. I hope that you enjoyed this reading. Thank you for reading, much love and take care.

[liyawritesss]

ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀᴋᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ꜱᴡᴏᴏɴ

-> synopsis: What are some actions that make the batboys swoon, their hearts stop, and have them softening like butter in your hands?

         -> characters: bruce wayne, dick grayson, jason todd, tim drake, damian wayne, duke thomas

-> from: dc’s batman

         -> contains: nothing but some tooth-rotting fluff because we need it lol.

-> a/n: It all started with Bruce, I blame him! They all need some comfort to be honest, and these little mini-scenarios are the result of that. wanted to put something soft and sweet on the dash for this holiday season!

         -> join my taglist!

-> tags: @mbakuetshurisprincess @shuriszn @writingintheshadowsforever @cafehyunji @niyahwrites @marsfunzon22 @briology @asensitivecookie @moon-bo-young @flo-milli-shit-hoe @babyboiboyega @romiantic

TOUCH THEIR CHEST. It is probably the single most domestic act you can do to them. When they’re rushing or moving too fast, thoughts running a mile a minute, pause them for a moment. Bring them back to center, focus their attention on you. Tell them to breathe, to close their eyes and take a moment to still themselves. You’re not going anywhere. Tell them that no matter what, they’re doing great, and that if it gets too much, just remember that at the end of every day, they have you to come home to, and every morning you’ll be there to wake up with them in the morning. Then, fix up their clothes and send them on their way to tackle the city they’ve dedicated themselves to serve.

->BRUCE WAYNE, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson

HOLD THEIR FACE IN YOUR HANDS. Focus their attention on you. Shoo away their thoughts and racing mind, bring them down back to earth. Hold their gaze for a moment, and let them see all the love and passion and care you hold for them. This is their safe space, in your arms, in your hands, feeling the softness of your skin surrounding them and the smell of your perfume. Run your thumbs along their cheekbones and let your fingertips tease the ends of their hair. Tell them how handsome they are, how much you love them, and let them drown in your sweet affection; they need it more than you’ll ever know.

->JASON TODD, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne

CARESS THE BACK OF THEIR NECK. Let your fingers trace the skin at their nape, tangle your fingers in the curls of their hair. Let them lean back into your touch, cup the back of their heads, and let them fall into the peaceful surrender that is your protection. Your fresh set tracing along the edge of their hairline, giving them that blissful shiver that makes them bite their bottom lip in relief, that shoots through their body so refreshingly that their eyes close and they relish in the feeling. Gaze at them like they’re the only person in the world, and feel the way they relax and surrender themselves to you.

->DUKE THOMAS, DICK GRAYSON, Tim Drake

[moralesluvr]

MORNING SEX | b. eilish.

the soft glow of morning light filters through the curtains, painting your room in hues of gold and peach. the world outside is just beginning to stir, but inside, everything feels still—peaceful.

your eyes flutter open, greeted by the sight of her. billie lies beside you, her black hair messy against the pillow, her face soft with the kind of peace that only sleep can bring. her arm is draped across your waist, her fingers curled loosely against your skin, her nude body tangled beautifully within the sheets.

you take a moment to study her, to let yourself appreciate the rare sight of her like this— completely relaxed, no stress, vulnerable in the warm cocoon of the pure covers of your shared bed.

billie stirs slightly, her nose scrunching up adorably before her blue eyes blink open. when they meet yours, a sleepy smile spreads across her face, and your heart aches with the quiet intimacy of it.

“morning,” she murmurs, her voice husky from sleep. she groans out, her hand intertwining with one of yours as she pulled the covers underneath her chin to rest them on, her eyes falling on your own unclothed frame.

“morning,” you reply, your voice just as soft.

you and billie always slept completely nude at night, the skin to skin contact offering you the maximum amount of intact that you desired. it just felt better that way.

billie’s hand shifts, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on your hip, and you feel the warmth of her touch seep into your skin.

god, she looks so good. blue eyes glistening in the sun, messy hair sprawled everywhere, though she still looks perfect, her scent of linen and vanilla— it’s too early for you to be feeling like this. but she just looks so amazing, and—

“you’re staring,”

you bite your lip when she snaps you out of your thoughts, and you give her an embarrassed frown when you feel your cheeks blossom with warmth.

“i’m sorry,” you apologize sheepishly, “you’re so pretty, can’t help it.”

she hums softly, her eyes scanning your face, “it’s okay, pretty girl— you always look so beautiful in the morning, can’t help but stare, too.”

her words make your chest tighten, and you lean into her touch as her hand moves to cup your cheek.

her thumb brushes against your skin, her touch light and reverent, and she leans in, her lips meeting yours in a kiss that’s so gentle it makes your heart twist and burn a little bit.

it’s slow and tender, the kiss— perfect reflection of the calm morning itself. billie’s hand slips to the small of your back, pulling you closer, and you let yourself melt into her.

“i don’t want to get up,” she whines needy against your lips, her voice filled with the kind of honesty that mornings tend to bring out of her.

“then don’t,” you reply, your hand finding its way to her hair, tangling gently in the dark strands, “stay with me.”

and she does just that. she stays with you when your tongue is lapping at her wet pussy, her back arching against the sheets as she fights to keep her vibrator steady on her clit.

she stays with you (although it’s hard for her to) when she’s cumming onto your parted lips, loud but soft moans sounding from her throat as you massage her thighs gently, assisting her through her high.

she’s stays with you through all of that. and you find yourself back where you started, tangled in bed sheets, little snores sounding from the both of you as the opiate of sleep undertook you both.

what a great way to start your morning.

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[gpcwsl]

Warnings: short, not read through, kissing/making out.

Leah Williamson x Reader: sore loser.

MasterList

The first flakes of snow had barely begun to settle when Leah Williamson dragged Y/n outside, her excitement contagious. The world was blanketed in a soft white layer, the quiet hum of the festive season wrapping everything in peace. Leah’s cheeks were already flushed pink from the cold, her breath forming little puffs in the air as she grinned at Y/n.

“You can’t seriously want to stay inside on a day like this,” she teased, tugging on Y/n’s gloved hand. “Come on, live a little!”

Y/n rolled their eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Fine, but if I freeze to death, I’m haunting you.”

“Deal,” Leah said with a laugh, already scooping up a handful of snow. Without warning, she tossed it at Y/n, hitting their shoulder with a soft splat.

“Oh, you’re asking for it now,” Y/n declared, grabbing a handful of snow and launching it in Leah’s direction.

What started as playful taunts quickly turned into an all-out snowball fight, both of them darting around the yard, laughter echoing in the still air. Leah’s competitive streak came through as she ducked and dodged, her blonde hair peeking out from beneath her wool hat. Y/n managed to land a perfect shot square on her back, and Leah gasped in mock offense.

“That’s it,” she said, her voice low with playful menace. Before Y/n could react, Leah tackled them into the snow, both of them collapsing in a heap, laughing uncontrollably.

“You’re such a sore loser,” Y/n teased, trying to push her off, but Leah pinned them down with a triumphant grin.

“Loser?” she echoed, leaning down so their faces were just inches apart. “Say that again, I dare you.”

Y/n smirked, their breath hitching as Leah’s weight pressed against them. “You’re a sore—”

Leah didn’t let them finish. She closed the distance between them, her lips capturing Y/n’s in a kiss that was soft and warm despite the cold. For a moment, the chill of the snow beneath them didn’t matter; all Y/n could feel was Leah’s lips moving against theirs, slow and deliberate.

When Leah finally pulled back, her cheeks were red—not just from the cold—and her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Still think I’m a loser?” she whispered, her breath ghosting over Y/n’s lips.

Y/n grinned, wrapping their arms around Leah’s neck to pull her back down. “Definitely not.”

They kissed again, the snow forgotten as the world around them faded into a blur of cold air and the warmth of Leah’s touch. Her gloved hand cupped Y/n’s cheek, the contrast between the chill of the snow and the heat between them making it all the more intoxicating.

Eventually, they broke apart, laughing as snowflakes clung to their hair and clothes. Leah stood, offering a hand to help Y/n up.

“Come on,” she said, still grinning. “I’ll make you hot chocolate to warm you up. But just so you know, I totally won that snowball fight.”

Y/n shook their head, lacing their fingers through Leah’s as they walked back inside. “If that’s what winning looks like, I’ll let you win every time.”

[mclacedes]

A Fading Echo (LH44)

CHAPTER II: Going Home

a/n: this is NOT PROOF READ

warnings: breakup, abu dhabi ‘21, rude!lewis, depression, gaslighting, fighting

★ previous chapter

★ next chapter

“For a moment, he wanted to break down and beg Willem not to leave. Don't go, he wanted to tell him. Stay here with me. I'm scared to be alone.”

- Hanya Yanagihara, "A Little Life"

He remembers your final battle—the fight that ended it all; the decision-maker, the deal-breaker.

Four years. You had been together for four beautiful, though turbulent, years. The kind of love story that felt unshakable, weathering the storms life hurled your way. You had your own career, pursuing the dreams you’d cherished since you were a kid. You were finally at a stage in life where everything felt like it fit perfectly. And with him by your side, it seemed like nothing could go wrong.

By 2020—your third year together—things had grown serious, the kind of serious that made people whisper about rings and forever.

You still remember the phone call in March 2020, just as the world began to crumble under the weight of a pandemic, when asked you the question, his voice calm but carrying a thread of anticipation.

“Quarantine with me. In the UK,” he said, his words slicing through the static.

You froze, caught completely off guard. The emotions hit you all at once—joy, anxiety, disbelief��so quickly that you couldn’t string a coherent thought together.

“Y/n?” His voice softened. “You still there?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” you stammered, your mind still reeling. “I’m just… a little unprepared for that question.”

The pandemic was spiraling into chaos. Quarantine was the new normal, with no end in sight. Weeks? Months? Years? No one knew. There was no vaccine, no cure, just endless uncertainty. The thought of being confined in one place for so long felt suffocating.

“It's just… That's not my house, I don't know if I’ll…” he had this unbearable habit of cutting you off in the middle of a sentence.

“I know, but we can make it home,” you could tell he was beaming with pride for coming up with that sentence. “Home is wherever you are.”

It sounded like a promise. Like he was for real.

“Besides, there won’t be any races for a while. Things will be peaceful, quiet… just us. I think we can make it fun at home, huh?”

His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket. Despite the fear and uncertainty, the thought of being with him��just him—was comforting.

You took a deep breath, letting the idea sink in. “Okay, it sounds nice,” and you smiled.

And it was nice. More than nice, really. Those weeks together were filled with laughter and quiet moments, a bubble of peace in a chaotic world.

Eventually, though, he had to leave again. Racing had resumed, and his life called him back to the track. You went to as many races as you could, though he always worried.

“I don’t want you catching that thing,” he’d say, his protective nature shining through.

You’d laugh it off, but you knew he meant it. Those months felt like a rhythm you could get used to—brief separations and joyous reunions. You thought you had found your balance.

But cracks have a way of forming when you least expect them—because people talk. They speculate. They conspire. Perched on the edges of lives they don’t know, they wait for their chance to unravel something beautiful.

Your relationship became a sweet treat for an internet starved for the meanest way to make somebody seem interesting, a spectacle to devour and distort—somebody had to feed those vultures.

By mid-2021, Twitter was buzzing with talk of rings, cradles and bibs. People dissected your (and his) every move, searching for signs of the next big step. But while the world fantasized about your future, Lewis was consumed by a fight of his own—that year's championship; the toughest battle since 2016, since Nico.

You knew his career had always been his first love, the thing that made his heart pump and his eyes shine long before they settled on you. Just as you had your own dreams to chase, he had his. And in 2021, those dreams demanded everything from him—his time, his attention, his softness, and, it seemed, his love for you.

By late 2021, the cracks in your once unshakable foundation had grown too wide to ignore. The championship consumed him, pulling him further away, and you—desperately holding on—began to feel more like an obligation than a partner.

It started with the little things: unanswered texts, “I was catching up on data”, missed calls, conversations cut short with a distracted “Sorry, I’ll call you later”. Later never came thought. Even when you were physically together, his mind was elsewhere, a thousand miles ahead, already focused on the next race, the next strategy meeting, the next battle on track.

You tried to understand. You reminded yourself of his passion, his drive, the fire that had drawn you to him in the first place. But understanding didn’t make the loneliness any easier to bear.

Then it crumbled. December, after Abu Dhabi. It was like everything started to shut down, like multiple organ failure—there’s no surgery to save your relationship. The worst part is that you knew it—you both. The even worse part was that you let it go so easily.

The fallout from that race was cataclysmic, not just for him but for you too. He came home shattered—a man stripped of everything he’d worked for, everything he believed in. You wanted to be there for him, to help him rebuild, but he wouldn’t let you in. He was silent, withdrawn, a ghost of the man who had once made you feel like the center of his universe.

“I’m here if you wanna talk,” you had reassured him once, your voice soft, during a quietly bitter dinner.

“I don’t want to,” he replied sharply, his tone cold and clipped, not even looking up from his plate.

“I know, but what I mean is that—”

“I know what you mean, Y/N,” he interrupted, his voice laced with impatience. “Please, can we just eat?”

The finality in his words stung, sharp and unforgiving. Recessive and heartbroken, you nodded, lowering your gaze to the plate of food you had poured your heart into making—a meal that now tasted like ash in your mouth.

The days dragged on after that, each one heavier than the last. Conversations became sparse, filled only with superficial pleasantries or curt exchanges. The man who used to pull you into his arms and make you laugh until your sides ached now felt like a stranger in your own home.

And then came the day he told you he was leaving.

“I’m going over to my parents,” he said one evening, his voice flat, drained of its usual warmth, as the chill of December crept into the Monaco air.

You blinked, still sitting on the couch surrounded by a scattering of holiday cards you’d been addressing. The weight of his words took a moment to settle.

“Didn’t know they’d spend Christmas with us,” you said, absent-minded, not understanding what he meant yet.

“No,” he clarified, his tone cool and detached. “I’m going home.”

The room seemed to close in around you, the once-welcoming space now feeling alien and far too empty. “Okay… I’ll pack my bags,” you said quickly, standing up abruptly, as if to act like nothing had changed. “How long are we staying there? I hope you’re aware that I’m going home for New Year’s—”

“No, Y/N.” He cut you off, his words sharp enough to slice through the air. “I need to go by myself. Just me and my parents for once.”

Your breath hitched as you processed his words. “Oh. Umm… Okay,” you managed to say, your throat tightening, tears threatening to spill. “It’s just that we… we had planned this. We were supposed to—”

“Yeah, yeah,” he interrupted, waving a dismissive hand. “Plans changed.”

The dismissal stung, sharp and biting, like a slap to the face. And then, the silence.

“What happened, Lewis?” you asked, the crack in your voice betraying the storm brewing inside.

“How is that even a question?” he snapped, his brow furrowed, disbelief coloring his words. He ran a hand through his hair, frustration leaking from his every pore. “It’s right in front of you, Y/N. It’s been right in front of you.”

“No, it hasn’t!” you shot back, the words tumbling out in a mix of anger and desperation. “You’ve been shutting me out for months. I don’t know what’s going on with you anymore because you won’t talk to me! You won’t let me in!”

“Oh, so now this is my fault?” he retorted, his voice rising, defensive. “I’m the bad guy for not wanting to drown you in my shit? For needing space to deal with the fact that my career—my legacy—was torn apart in front of the entire world?” He turned his back on you, heading toward the hallway that led to your shared bedroom.

“That’s not what I’m saying, Lewis!” you shouted, following him, the frustration boiling over. “The thing is, you made me believe we were a team. We’d face things together. And now, when it matters most, you’re shutting me out!”

But he didn’t listen. His steps were heavy, his mind already elsewhere.

“You said you’re going home!” You screamed, and this time, he finally stopped, his body tensing.

He turned around, his face a storm of frustration. “I am going home, Y/N. What’s so hard to understand about that?”

“What happened to ‘home is wherever you are, Y/N’?” you repeated, your voice shaking with raw emotion. “This isn’t your home anymore? After everything we’ve built together, I’m not your home?”

He scoffed, a cruel sound that sliced through the air. “You’re twisting my words.”

“No, I’m not!” you retorted, your heart pounding, desperate to be heard. “I’m just trying to understand why you think running back to the UK and shutting me out is the answer to anything. You barely even look at me anymore, Lewis. Do you even want me here?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” His eyes narrowed, his tone sharp, though still defensive.

“It means you’ve kept me on the edge for so long. You’re here, but not really. And when you’re gone, we don’t talk. You disappear. I’m not even a part of your life anymore!” You could feel the tears in your throat, but you fought them back. “You dismiss everything we talked about—marriage, kids, a future. Like none of it matters to you anymore. Like you don’t want me in your life at all. It feels like you hate me!”

“Argh, here you go again,” he snarled, his fists clenching. “Shit, you always do this,” he snapped, his voice rising. “Always making it about you,” his index pointed straight at you.

“Because it is about us!” you cried, your voice breaking. “It’s about me too, isn’t it? I’m not some option you can just turn off when you don’t feel like dealing with me!”

“Well, I’m the one dealing with shit right now,” he shot back, his eyes flashing with anger. “And instead of supporting me, you’re interrogating me, saying I don’t care about you. You think that talking about babies and rings is going to fix anything? You don’t get it, Y/N! You’re so focused on your timeline, on what you think I should be giving you, that you can’t see that I’m falling apart!”

You stood frozen, the sting of his words slicing through you like ice. “That’s not fair, Lewis. I’ve been supporting you—”

“Have you?” he interrupted coldly, his voice full of bitterness. “Because all I hear is how you feel. I’m the one who’s lost everything, but somehow, I’m the one to blame. You’ve made this all about you.”

“You keep saying you’ve lost everything, but no,” you said, your voice steady despite the tears now spilling. “You haven’t lost everything. Your legacy is still there. You’re a legend. It’s always going to be remembered. But you’re so lost in your own darkness that you can’t see what’s still in front of you. You’ve lost a championship, so what?”

Lewis’s face twisted with rage, his eyes seething as he glared at you. “So what?” he echoed bitterly. “You think it’s just about a damn race? It’s not just the championship, Y/N. It’s everything. They took it from me. They stole it from me, right in front of everyone’s eyes. And all you can do is lecture me like I’m being unreasonable? You’re standing here talking about legacy and what I’ve achieved, but none of that matters if it’s all been ripped away. What’s left of me when they’ve taken everything?” he said, forcing himself to maintain his composure.

“Yeah, and what's left of us, Lewis?”

The words hit him harder than you expected, and for a moment, he was silent, his jaw tightening. His chest heaved, and his eyes locked onto yours, a mix of pain and frustration swirling in them.

“What do you mean, what's left of us?” he asked, his voice shaking slightly, as though he was trying to understand.

“We,” you repeated, your voice quieter now, barely above a whisper. “What’s left of us when you shut me out like this? When you push me away every time I try to help you, every time I try to understand? What happens when you keep giving them, the media, more than you give to this relationship?”

“I don’t think I have the mindspace to dwell on that anymore, Y/N,” He stood there, seemingly distant, his eyes avoiding yours now. The air between you both felt colder, thicker, like an impenetrable wall had risen between the two of you.

“See? That's what I’m talking about! You’ll just run away, packing it up and not talking to me. You can’t just not think about it, Lewis,” you said, frustration creeping into your voice. “You can’t just shut everything out because it’s easier than facing it. This relationship—us—it’s not a convenience, it’s not something you can just leave behind when it doesn’t fit your narrative anymore.”

His jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing as if he were searching for a retort but couldn’t find the words. Finally, he said, “I can’t give you what you need right now, Y/N. I can’t be the person you want me to be.”

“I don’t need you to be perfect, Lewis,” you said, stepping closer to him. “I just need you to let me in. I need you to trust me enough to share the weight.”

He shook his head, looking away as if he couldn’t bear to meet your eyes. “It’s not that simple.”

“Yes, it is!” you insisted, the tears you’d been holding back spilling over now. “You’re choosing to leave me out. You’re actively choosing to push me away. That’s not about the championship or your career—that’s about us. And it’s killing me, Lewis.”

For a moment, he just stood there, his eyes locked on yours, his face a blank mask. And then, in a voice so quiet, so small, it shattered your heart, he said, “Maybe we were never as strong as we thought we were.”

The words slammed into you like a punch to the gut, leaving you gasping for air. “You don’t mean that,” you pleaded, your voice trembling, cracking under the weight of the truth you didn’t want to face.

Time seemed to slow as he reached for his house keys, his car keys, and the packed handbag—each movement like a dagger slowly twisting deeper into your chest.

“Lewis, no,” you begged, your voice raw, desperation flooding your veins. “No, please, don’t do this. Please stay…”

But he didn’t look back. He didn’t even flinch at your broken cries.

“I’ll see you around,” he muttered, his words empty, hollow. His tone was void of everything that once mattered. Without another word, he walked out, the door slamming shut behind him with a deafening finality.

The silence that followed was suffocating, the sound of the door’s closure ringing in your ears like a death knell. You were left standing there, frozen, in a sea of devastation. Alone. Lost. And questioning everything that had once been so sure.

Nothing was ever the same after that.

For him, that wasn’t just the loss of a championship—it was the loss of himself. Of everything he thought he could hold onto.

You watched helplessly as he sought solace in everything else—the noise, the distractions, the empty comforts—anything but you. Everyone else seemed to understand the depths of his pain, the weight of his loss, except for you. And that fact stung worse than anything he’d said.

That night, you let yourself slip into a crying spiral, tears falling uncontrollably, each one a reflection of the pain that had consumed you. You didn't know how long it lasted, but it felt like hours, your chest tight and raw. Eventually, exhaustion dragged you into a restless sleep, the emptiness settling around you.

A few weeks later, after trying to collect yourself and make sense of the pain, you sent one text.

you: i’ve taken my thing out of your house in Monaco. i’m breaking up with you.

You stared at the message for a long moment, your thumb hovering over the send button, as though giving yourself a moment to breathe before the finality of it.

With a shaky exhale, you pressed send. The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of everything that had built up, everything that had been left unsaid. The knot in your chest didn’t loosen. It didn’t change anything. But it was done. And as you stared at the screen, the absence of a reply was just another confirmation that it was over.

[woso-story]

Mila's Norwegian Christmas

Ingird Engen x Mapi Leon x BabyMila

It was the kind of December morning that promised magic—crisp, clear skies and a chilly breeze that danced through the streets of Barcelona. In their cozy apartment, the morning sun stretched its golden fingers through the windows, spilling light onto the living room floor. Inside, there was a beautiful chaos: Mapi was sprawled on the floor with Mila, their three-year-old daughter, alongside her. And, of course, Bagheera, their fluffy, sassy cat, was curled up in the middle of it all, soaking in the sun too.

Ingrid had just come home from running errands, her arms full of shopping bags. As she entered the living room, she couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight before her. There was Mapi, still in her warm oversized sweater, lying down on the floor next to Mila, who was in her own little world, chattering happily. Bagheera was stretched out between them, her fur catching the rays of the sun like a golden halo. 

It wasn’t a typical morning, but Ingrid adored moments like this—simple, cozy, and full of love. But even though it looked peaceful, she knew there was an underlying challenge ahead. This was going to be their first Christmas in Norway and Mila had never experienced winter there. 

Mila had met Ingrid’s parents before, on the few occasions when they had visited Norway in the past. However, those trips had been in the warmer months, and Mila had never known Norway during the winter chill, the snow, or the frost-covered trees that Ingrid had grown up with. Ingrid had always talked about her family’s Christmas traditions in Norway—how magical it was to wake up to snow-covered streets, how fun it was to go sledging, ice-skating, and to sit by the fire with family. It all sounded wonderful, and Ingrid was determined to share it with Mila. But there was one small problem: Mila was very much a Barcelona girl. She loved the warmth, the sunshine, and the comfort of her familiar surroundings. The thought of a snowy Christmas in a freezing Norway didn’t excite her in the slightest. 

“Maria,” Ingrid said with a mischievous smile, leaning against the doorframe of the living room. “Do you realize that Mila and Bagheera are both the same—perfectly content to just lay in the sun all day?”

Mapi laughed, her bright blonde hair falling softly over her shoulders. “I guess I did pass on my love of sunbathing,” she replied. “But I can’t blame them. It’s the best part of the day.”

Mila, noticing that her mom was talking to Mapi, bounced up on her little feet, her curly hair bouncing with her. “Mama!” she said in a sing-song voice, running over to Ingrid, “Look! Bagheera is sleeping with us!”

Ingrid smiled at the way her daughter’s face lit up at the simplest things. Mila was still young, but her spirit was already so vibrant. She was curious, always on the move, and had a fierce love for her family—especially for Bagheera, their black cat who had been with them since Mila was a baby. 

Ingrid took a deep breath, watching Mila curl back up beside Mapi. The thought of the cold, snowy trip ahead weighed on Ingrid’s mind. They had talked to Mila about their plans for Christmas in Norway, explaining that they would fly to Ingrid’s parents’ house, where they could enjoy snow, sledging, and maybe even build a snowman. At first, Mila had been intrigued, her eyes wide with excitement at the idea of snow. But as soon as Ingrid mentioned the cold, Mila’s face fell. 

“I don’t want to go to Norway,” Mila had said, pouting slightly. “I want to stay here with Bagheera. I don’t like the cold.”

Ingrid had tried to reassure her. “It’s going to be so much fun, sweetheart! You’ll get to play in the snow, and you’ll see your grandparents, and you’ll have lots of fun with them! And don’t worry—your grandparents will be so happy to see you.”

But Mila had shaken her head. “I want to stay here with Bagheera,” she repeated stubbornly. 

“I know, baby,” Ingrid had said, smiling softly. “Bagheera will be fine. We’re just going on a little adventure, and soon you’ll see how fun snow can be!”

Despite Ingrid’s words, Mila wasn’t convinced. As the day of their flight approached, the little girl remained grumpy, unsure about the whole idea. It didn’t help that they couldn’t bring Bagheera with them. Ingrid and Mapi had explained that Bagheera would stay with her grandparents in Zaragoza, but Mila’s concern about her beloved cat was palpable. 

And so, two days later, they found themselves on a flight to Norway. Mila had her arms crossed over her chest, a pout firmly in place. She looked like a tiny replica of Mapi—her fiery look, the pout, and even the way she folded her arms. Mapi noticed it too and couldn’t help but laugh. “She’s definitely my daughter,” Mapi said with a grin. 

When they landed in Norway, the first thing Mila noticed was the cold. It was a sharp contrast to the warmth of Barcelona, and the snow-covered streets looked nothing like the sun-drenched beaches Mila was used to. Ingrid, wrapped in a thick coat and scarf, kept a watchful eye on her daughter as they walked to the taxi. Mila, bundled up in layers, had a look of complete disbelief on her face as she tugged at her scarf. 

Mapi, standing beside her, pouted just as dramatically, mirroring Mila’s discomfort. Ingrid laughed, snapping a picture of the two of them in their matching winter gear. She sent the photo to the Barcelona team chat with a note: “Twins in the cold. Not amused.”

When they arrived at Ingrid’s parents’ house, there was a warmth that instantly made Mila feel better. Ingrid’s parents were ecstatic to see their daughter and granddaughter, and Mila quickly forgot her grumpiness when she was swept into the arms of her grandparents. She loved seeing how tall they were, and the best part of any visit was always when her grandad, Orjan, would lift her onto his shoulders. Mila loved that feeling of being the tallest person in the room, and she couldn’t stop giggling whenever her grandpa would spin around, pretending she was the queen of the world.

But despite her grandparents’ excitement, Mila was still a little homesick. The snow was beautiful, but it wasn’t Barcelona, and she missed her familiar routines. Ingrid could see her daughter struggling with the change, but she wasn’t worried. She knew that soon, Mila would find her rhythm. 

Later, they went ice-skating at a nearby rink. To everyone’s surprise, Mila was a natural. After a few wobbly attempts and some help from Ingrid, she was skating around the rink like she had been doing it for years. Mapi, on the other hand, was struggling to stay upright, clinging to the edge of the rink and laughing every time she fell. Mila skated circles around her, calling, “Come on, Mami! I can do it. You can do it too!”

And then, something changed. The first time they went sledging down the hills, Mila’s mood shifted. The excitement of zooming down the snow-covered slopes with Mapi, who was laughing just as much as she was, was too much to resist. Mila’s giggles filled the air, and soon she was asking to go again, eager for the next run.

---

Everyone laughed as Mapi took yet another tumble. Ingrid, offering a hand to her wife, couldn’t resist teasing her. “Looks like we’ve got a little Norwegian ice princess on our hands,” she said with a grin.

Christmas Eve came, and the family gathered around the beautifully decorated tree in Ingrid’s parents’ home. The sight of all the presents underneath it made Mila’s eyes widen in wonder. She was amazed at how many gifts there were, and most of them had her name on them. Her grandparents even gave her a surprise gift—her very own pair of ice skates. Ingrid and Mapi exchanged a look of pride. It was clear their little girl had won over Norway, even if it took her a little while to adjust.

Mila beamed. “I’m going to be the best skater in Barcelona! Watch out!” she announced proudly, already planning how she would show off her new skills to her friends back home.

---

That evening, as they sat by the fire, enjoying the warmth and the comfort of family, Ingrid leaned back, watching Mila talk animatedly about her new ice-skating skills. “She’s definitely more Spanish than Norwegian,” Ingrid murmured with a smile.

“She’s a perfect mix of both of us,” Mapi said, her heart swelling with pride. 

And as they boarded the plane back to Barcelona, Mila surprised them by asking, “When are we going back to Norway again? I want to build another snowman!” 

Ingrid and Mapi exchanged a glance, smiling. Maybe their little Barcelona girl was more Norwegian than they thought.

[devildomwriter]

Twelve Dancers Dancing | Lucifer x Reader

1.1K Words Count | GN! Reader | CW: none

You shivered in the cold air and huddled next to Lucifer for warmth as you waited to pass through security. Unlike trips to the human world with all seven brothers, trips with Lucifer alone were guaranteed to be peaceful and pleasant.

Something as simple as going to a play could erupt into chaos with the other six but with Lucifer alone, you knew the night would be relaxing.

Lucifer had heard of the Nutcracker before and he’d read the book but he’d never gone to see it in person, not even with Diavolo on business. So to be the first one to watch it with him despite his age, you felt honored.

You’d seen the ballet many times but nothing came close to the Russian ballet and you’d been unable to afford it the tear it came close to your city.

Affordability wasn’t an issue for Lucifer, neither was having to cross over realms. If it meant he could enjoy a night out with you, without his brothers, and spend it doing something you both enjoyed, he’d go to any lengths necessary.

Finally, you got up to security and handed over your satchel, as did he. You stepped to the side and held up your arms, passing security who remained pleasant despite the bite in the air.

You quickly grabbed your things and walked inside with Lucifer.

It was louder than he expected as there were long lines of people waiting for food and drink and others hoping to buy exclusive merchandise.

“Would you like me to get you something?” He asked and you nodded.

He smiled, glad to be able to do something to please you more.

“What would you like?”

“How about some popcorn?”

“At the ballet?” He asked a little confused but nodded when you grinned eagerly.

He handed you your ticket and asked that you find the seats so you could make yourself comfortable before the show began.

You nodded and took his coat for him. You found an employee and she pointed you in the right direction.

You were shocked to see the seats he’d gotten you. They were definitely the best in the house and you were in the front. The only other people around you were elderly and dressed well, they were clearly connoisseurs of the arts.

You shyly walked by them, dressed far less fancifully, and sat down, placing Lucifer’s coat next to you.

The lights began to dim and you texted Lucifer worriedly only to hear the beep behind you. You turned around and smiled as Lucifer handed you a large popcorn and water to go with it since it was salty.

He took his coat and sat next to you. He immediately wrapped his arm around you and pecked your cheek. You blushed at the rare display of public affection and leaned into him excited for the ballet to begin.

The audience clapped as the music began to play and one scene after the next the dancers stunned you with their coordination, grace, and effortless movements of such complex dances.

Lucifer didn’t take his eyes off the dancers. You weren’t sure he would even if you asked him to, he was complexly transfixed, and without thinking about it, began munching on your popcorn with a gloved hand. You snorted and ended yo watching him a good chunk of time instead.

Every so often he’d squeeze your hand and point something out, wondering if you’d just seen that incredible leap too.

Intermission began after the snow fairies danced away and he sat in silence for a moment. When the theatre became loud again as people moved about to get refills or find the restrooms he began his play-by-play commentary, asking for your opinions.

“I can’t believe I’ve waited so long to see this. It’s only act one and it’s incredible. That toy soldier landed every leap and spin so effortlessly, was he really human? Your kind has managed to pull off such incredible feats of art and why? Because they wanted to. None of this was necessary but your love and pursuit of these stories and worlds led to such remarkable results. I read the pamphlet earlier, some of these men and women have trained their entire lives in hopes of playing a role in this ballet. How incredible is that?” He rambled on for so long that the people in the seats behind you seemed fixed on what he said, equally moved by his testimony of human innovation in and for art.

The music slowly began again and he immediately stopped talking, his attention snapping back to the stage despite no one being there just yet.

You laughed and shook your near-empty popcorn bucket. You handed it to Lucifer as you were parched and took long sips of water as the lights faded out and the ballet began again.

Lucifer was amused and incredibly excited to see each new scene with a different cast of dancers from entirely unique worlds. Mother Ginger and his children astounded him as each child moved and tumbled in unison to avoid hitting each other. The Shepards made him laugh as it reminded him of something his brother would do. The dancing bear was a favorite for all not just young ones as he captured the audience, Lucifer included, making them laugh and applaud wildly.

Lucifer turned to you each time the dance ended to see if you were as enraptured as him only to see you looking at him as well. It made him blush and every time he caught you looking he kissed the back of your hand, making you blush as deeply as him.

Finally, the last dance began, Clara woke from her dream to her uncle, who reminded Lucifer of Solomon, and she held the nutcracker high in the air for the audience to see as the curtains drew.

Everyone was on their feet clapping wildly for the magnificent show they’d born witness to. As each dancer quickly returned to the stage to bow the claps began again more loudly for their favorites. The resounding favorites seemed to be the Sugar Plum Fairy and the dancing Bear rather than the two main characters. You agreed with them though as their dances had been the best and the latter the most amusing.

The lights shown brightly again and you sighed happily and squeezed Lucifer’s hand as he looked at you lovingly.

As you turned around you noticed the elderly couple staring at you chuckling.

The woman apologized and laughed, “I’m sorry, you two just reminded me so much of my husband and me when we were young.”

You blushed and Lucifer grinned and thanked them as he held you closer. “I sincerely hope one day the two of us will be like the two of you, together still relaxing to ballets after so many years.”

Lucifer looked at you and winked, you blushed and hid your face in his shoulder and he and the couple laughed but you nodded.

“That’s the only future I can imagine,” you said softly and Lucifer tightened his grip on you and kissed your forehead.

“Then so it shall be.”

[aventurineswife]

Hi! Can you please do a Sunday from Honkai with shy fem reader. Shy fem reader is based on a wishing star whose grand wishes like the character Star from Disney wish movie 2023 please. Fem reader can fly, does magic & change into a human or star form, sorry about my poor grammar.

Where Dreams and Stars Collide

Summary: On the Astral Express, Sunday notices your inner turmoil and takes the time to connect with you. Through a tender conversation, Sunday helps you confront your idealistic vision of a painless reality, offering wisdom on the balance between peace and growth.

Tags: Sunday x Female!Reader, Shy!Reader, Transformation (Human/Star Form), Emotional Support, Slow Burn, Philosophical Exploration, Light Angst.

Warnings: Mild angst, Reflective themes.

A/N: Might've made some few changes since I have never watched the video (heard a lot of negative comments about it so, idk anymore 💀🧍‍♀️)

The Astral Express had always been a place of strange wonders, a train that traveled across worlds, weaving through stars and galaxies. Among its passengers, one stood out, a being of pure wonder—a shy, ethereal girl who could transform between a human and a shimmering star, her powers guided by the grand wishes she carried deep within her heart. You were the Wishing Star, whose wishes weren't just dreams but destinies in the making, waiting to touch the lives of those around you.

Yet, despite the power you held, you were a quiet soul, hesitant to reveal the full extent of your gifts. Your soft voice was often drowned by the bustle of the train, your delicate hands hiding your magical prowess as you clung to the warmth of your friends aboard the Astral Express. Among them was Sunday, whose presence had always intrigued you. With his golden eyes, navy pupils, and gentle air of nobility, Sunday radiated a calm yet powerful aura. But what caught your attention the most was the quiet kindness he never failed to offer, his gaze never pressuring you, always patient.

One evening, as the train moved through a quiet sector of space, you stood near the window, gazing out at the shimmering cosmos. The stars outside felt so distant, just like your own desires—grand and untouchable. The wishes you kept locked away, the dreams that could never truly come true. You let out a small sigh, unaware that someone had quietly approached behind you.

"Is something troubling you, my star?" Sunday’s voice was soft, a question wrapped in understanding.

You turned, startled by his sudden presence. His smile was warm, and though you were nervous, you managed a small nod. It was rare for you to speak openly, but Sunday’s gentle demeanor made it easier. “I… I wish to help others. I want to make their dreams come true, but… I’m not sure how.”

Sunday’s eyes softened as he observed you, his gaze steady but not intrusive. “You have a grand wish inside you, one that can light the universe. But sometimes, even the brightest stars must be patient and trust in their path. You’ve already helped more than you know, just by being you.”

You looked down at your hands, a faint blush coloring your cheeks at his words. “But my wishes… they’re so big. I can’t do it all at once.”

He moved closer, his presence comforting, as if the weight of the cosmos itself had lifted in his gaze. "Not all wishes need to come true at once. Some dreams take time to grow, and others are meant to be shared." He paused, his voice dropping to a soft whisper. "A world without pain… where people can escape the suffering of life, is that not the dream you hold?"

Your heart skipped a beat. He understood. You had always kept that wish hidden, unsure of how others would react. "Yes," you whispered, meeting his eyes. "A place where everyone can be at peace, away from pain and hardship."

Sunday smiled, the faintest hint of sadness in his eyes. "It’s a beautiful wish, my star. But sometimes, the world needs more than just peace. People grow through struggle and loss, even when they cannot see it themselves."

You hesitated. “But isn’t it better to escape the pain? To live without suffering?”

Sunday's gaze became distant for a moment, a quiet ache in his expression. "I once thought the same, that people could be free of their suffering. But the truth is, peace without growth is an illusion. The dream you wish to create—it's not weakness, but a mercy. Sometimes, all we can do is protect others from the pain we cannot shield ourselves from."

His words echoed in your heart, a blend of his own philosophy and his understanding of your wish. You felt a warmth spread through you, not from the bright stars, but from his words, his gentle nature. For the first time in a long while, you felt understood.

"Thank you, Sunday," you murmured, your form flickering with soft, golden light as you began to shift between your star and human form.

Sunday chuckled softly, his voice a melodic hum that soothed your soul. "You are more than welcome. And remember, you are not alone in your journey. We all have our dreams, even if they are vast and complex. Together, we can help them take shape."

You blinked, surprised by his words. "We?" you asked quietly.

His eyes softened, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. "Yes, my star. I may not fully share your vision, but I will always be here to help guide you." He reached out a hand, gentle yet firm. "The universe is vast, and though it can be full of pain and hardship, it is also filled with the possibility of dreams. And those dreams are worth fighting for."

As you gently placed your hand in his, a quiet understanding passed between you. For the first time in a long while, you felt as though your wishes could truly matter.

And maybe, just maybe, you weren't so alone in the world after all.

[juletheghoul]

adversary

a/n: Merry Christmas and happy holidays! just jumping on to post some Joel, hopefully you enjoy! 💕 not beta’d and barely proofread, but thank you to @just-here-for-the-moment for taking a look- this ones for you!

Warnings; 18+ no minors, bit of an age gap, piv sex, dirty talk, Joel laying down the law and making sure you’re not in your head, allusions to past trauma, toxic relationship with Joel, but both parties like it- let me know if I missed any!

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

word count: 1k

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist

-

Surviving in the world, as it stood, meant keeping your face unreadable, and your mouth shut.

When Tommy had arrived in Jackson, he’d been easy to accept. He’d been humble and grateful, hardworking and eager to cement his place. Quiet. Peaceful.

Joel was a different beast. He tested your limits, broke the façade that had been crafted with care and time and trauma. The mask you’d created for safety, for the good of the community, had come terrifyingly close to cracking under the strength of his gaze. 

Maria had been wary when he’d shown up, and who could blame her judging by the things Tommy had whispered to her in their dark hours, but then again she’d been wary of you too. 

She still was. Sort of. 

Mostly it was a distant respect, what she felt for you, what you imagined everyone in Jackson must feel for you, If how they treated you was anything to go by. You were content with this though. A peaceful, quiet life was more than anything you could have hoped for. When people averted their eyes from you, when they kept their conversations short and to the point, when they left you alone, you took it as a sign, took it as good fortune. In this world, you were lucky to have this. 

Your solitude was the first thing Joel threatened. It was the first thing he took, and it wasn’t the last. He also took the comforting silence of an empty, safe, house. 

He took your hard-won peace. 

“Open the door.” His voice slipped through the cracks in the door like smoke, raising your heartbeat, as well as your blood pressure. 

“I thought we agreed we wouldn’t do this again.” You opened the door, just a crack. 

“Go away, Joel.” 

“We never agreed on anythin’, don’t play dumb with me, woman, I saw you lookin’ at me this mornin’ just like I was lookin’ at you.” The toe of his boot slides just inside, stopping you from slamming the door in his face. 

“I don’t want you right now.” You crossed your arms, yet didn’t move. This was the game you always played, and he was wise to it now, so he laughed. 

“Yes you do, I can practically taste it.” It’s pitch black outside the house except for the glint in his eyes, he’s obviously in a good mood, which only sours yours further. “Let me in baby, I’m in a givin’ mood, let me be sweet to you.” His hand reaches through the crack in the door and strokes, petal-soft, at the skin of your arm. Instantly your body betrays you, blooms for him while outwardly, you seethe. 

“Come on darlin’,” His voice is warm honey now, “let me in so I can do all those things I know you like.” His towering frame presses closer, slipping through the widening crack in the door, and you let him.

-

A filthy moan slips past your mouth, and into his ego. 

“Such a good girl, takin’ this cock just how I need you to take it.” He swirls his hips, pressing deep enough to pull another moan despite the useless vow of silence you’d promised to no one except maybe your own pride. 

“Shut up-“ you pant with an embarrassing lack of any real bite, inwardly cursing him for how good it feels, while physically clutching at him harder. He laughs, slowing his movements down.

“You like it when I talk though, I can feel how fuckin’ wet you are right now, drippin’ all over—“ you pull him closer, kissing him in the foolish attempt to disguise the noises you couldn’t seem to stop making, as well as stop him from pouring more gasoline onto the fire he lit in your veins. 

He got the hint, blessedly. He was in a giving mood, being real sweet despite how disrespectfully he was fucking you. 

His skin slips against yours, sweatslicked and warm as he crushes you to the mattress with every heavy stroke, his cock is so hard you vaguely wonder if he’d been imagining this. That thought turned you on, to know that despite the usual aversion, the perpetual scowl on his face that he’d been craving you for god knows how long - it made him seek you out. Whether or not you wanted to be the object of his desire, you still didn’t quite know. 

Thoughts spiraled though and soon the moans turned into frustrated sighs. The inner conflict he embodied for you chased away the pleasure, replaced it with inadequacy, with that ever-present melancholy and anxiety that was the new normal in this world. You felt him stop, felt him pull away, pull out of you with a grunt and the sour feeling swells. He can sense you’re not in it anymore, resigned to have to shower and chase the orgasm once he’s gone you blindly reach for the blanket—

“Turn over, hands and knees.”

“What? I thought-“

“Do what I say. Turn over.” His tone is serious and unquestionable, and it lights you up from the inside, even though you’d never admit it to him.

Once you get into position his hands are heavier, rougher. A heavy crack lands on your ass and you gasp, shocked, distracted. He enters you in once brutal thrust, giving you no time to get accustomed before he’s pulling you up, your back meeting his chest. 

“There it is, gotta get you out of that pretty little head, fuck you dumb.” He pants the words in your ear, his fingers slipping between your legs to pinch your clit. “That’s it baby, feel that?” His words are clipped, one hand working between your legs while the other holds your breast possessively, keeping you pressed tight. 

All thoughts are knocked out of your head by the heavy stroke of his cock, mindless, euphoric, rhythmic and divine. Tighter and tighter the coil winds, a full body clench only inches away from the brainless buzz of pleasure and when his teeth sink into the curve of your shoulder it snaps. 

He grunts as your cunt squeezes him tight, clenching around his cock, milking him dry as he grinds himself deeper, as deep as he can. 

He says nothing as he dresses, nothing still as he walks down the stairs and out of your house. He never does, and as the blood cools and the exhaustion shoos away your consciousness, you vaguely wonder if you’d ever need him to.

-

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[jjkfanfic]

Satoru Gojo and You

As you sat in the warm glow of the setting sun, Satoru Gojo ambled over, his blindfold still snugly wrapped around his eyes. There was a playful air about him as usual and you couldn’t help but smile at him.

“Taking a break from all the action?” he asked, leaning casually against the bench.

“Just enjoying a moment of peace,” you replied, meeting his gaze, even though it was hidden from you, you knew he could see you.

In a flash, he scooped you up effortlessly, holding you against him, making to wrap your legs around his waist. “Now you’ve got the world’s strongest sorcerer at your service!"

“Gojo! What are you doing?” you exclaimed, laughter bubbling out as you clung to his shoulders.

“Saving you from boredom,” he declared dramatically, twinkling mischief in his voice.

With him so close, you felt a pulse of courage, grinning playfully. Your hands moved to his blindfold. “How about a little unveiling?”

His breath hitched in surprise as you pulled the blindfold off, revealing his striking blue eyes. “Oh? You’re bold today,” he teased, a smirk dancing on his lips. “Does this mean you want to take my place and wear it?”

You flushed, caught off guard by the suggestion. “What? Me? I don’t know about that…”

“Come on, it’s only fair,” he said, his tone teasing but full of warmth. “You look good in any outfit, but you’d rock my blindfold like a pro.”

With your heart racing, you looked into his playful gaze. “You’re impossible,” you replied, trying to hide your smile, but the flutter in your chest said otherwise.

“Only for you,” he said softly, drawing you a little closer.

With a playful glint in his eye, Gojo grabbed the blindfold from you.

“How about a little game?” he suggested, his voice dripping with charm. Before you could respond, he gently slid the blindfold over your eyes, leaving you in a dark, veiled world.

“Now you’re in my shoes,” he murmured, his tone low and teasing. You could feel the warmth of his presence, a comforting weight, he held you against his waist, your legs were wrapped around him and his hand holding your ass.

“Gojo, I can’t see anything!” you laughed, trying to peer through the fabric.

“Exactly! Not so easy, is it?” He leaned in closer, his breath brushing against your face. “But I can help you with that…”

He placed a light, teasing touch on your chin, guiding your face toward his. Your heart raced, anticipation hanging in the air. “Let’s see if you can handle it,” he whispered, a playful challenge in his voice.

Before you could reply, his lips found yours—a soft, lingering kiss that sent sparks through you, igniting every nerve with warmth. You melted into the moment, feeling the world fade away, replaced by the sweetness of his touch.

As his lips moved against yours, time seemed to stand still. You forgot the training, the students, and all the chaos of Jujutsu High. It was just you and him, sharing a world all your own. And what a wonderful world it was.

[lion-eva61]

Saw that tweet on twitter and hated it. Because 1. people seem always to gaslight Jayce , saying : oh, you are saying Mel manipulated him? Well his fault for being so easy to be manipulated. He is a himbo ! He is like a leaf in the wind so don’t you dare point out Mel’s grey morality. Instead make more jokes about Jayce!

Even half serios only half joking : Jayce actually wanted to be manipulated by a beautiful woman!

Here is my take:

First : Mel is deep down a good moral leader who is empathetic and cares about all people. But her true potential is buried and need to get out.

Second, Mel should have teamed up with ekko in season 2. Her journey to a good moral leader was not in season 1, her vote for independence of zhaun is not enough to make me say: her dream is to help people just like Jayce and Viktor. But her journey (right at the bombing of the council )should have began to become that person.

With ekko there was so much potential for her to learn about zhaunits and make her finally believe that they are HER people too, that all that gold she wears is like blood gold when all the zhaunits suffer.

Here is why:

First I want to establish Mel’s very grey character by her interactions with Jayce:

Jayce was easily pushed into all kinds of decisions (Markus and ambessa ) and into a political position by Mel, were she gave him full power over the future of hextech, BUT, the council gave no room for him to even have time to think about it. People often say: why didn’t he just say :No actually I don’t want it!

Well watch episode 4 again : Mel IMMEDIATELY began with the voting for creating a house Talis. The council was already 3 steps ahead before Jayce could even utter a word and talking over him. No one even asked him : hey do you even want this Jayce? It shows that the council, once they have something in their minds, they will have it reinstated. In this case :Mel wanted Jayce in the council , and she got that.

Not to mention that Mel already put the seeds in his head (same episode I think but earlier) that he could be a good leader to spread hextech to the world. She made sure to put that idea in his head to achieve his hextech dream.

Also it is not altruism that Mel gave him so much power, because she actually gave herself power over hextech. With Jayce in the council she has one vote more for whatever she wants to be reinstated, because it is easy for her to convince Jayce of her opinions(for example hextech weapons).

Mel used Jayce’s lack of political and tactical understanding. I mean, she was smart enough to approach Jayce and not Viktor, because getting a say of the future of hextech would be impossible through Viktor, a zhaunits who distrust the upper piltover class.

Her journey in s1 is that she moved and used tactics like a Merdada but learns to open up to Jayce and reject her upbringing. But that journey is rocky. To remind everyone : she was(under the pressure of her mother ) the catalyst for the hextech weapons, she brought that idea into Jayce’s and victors lab and brought another dilemma into Jayce’s life : is it morally correct to use his dream to fight other people to protect your own people. At that moment she didn’t consider the zhaunits her people, planting another seed into Jayce’s mind : it’s them vs us.

Meanwhile Viktor was defusing Jinx’s bomb and reminding Jayce , that there is choice for not using violence against people. A deliberate contrast to what Mel said.

And even the final vote for independence for zhaun is rocky : she was taking by surprise with the peace deal and looked worried and unsure. It looks like a mirror how Jayce felt when she took him by surprise and made him council. Now Jayce surprised her with the decision where her morals finally really stands, and she votes for peace.

Problem is, the council already overlooked so much of the issues in zhaun, that their voting is way to late. The pain of zhaunits expressed by jinx is boiling over and the rocket hits.

A final and very good conclusion, a middle finger to the council and their half asses morality.

And that was Mel’s journey : she was just not quick enough to realize, where her morals stands. She was not fast enough to let go of her merdada tactics and work for peace instead of wealth for piltover.

She is not a villain but also not an ally to zhaun. YET

Now season 2:

In season 2 she should have cooperate with ekko, learning the people of zhaun and become the person she really is deep down but is buried under the pressure of her mom and all the years of accumulation wealth for her and piltover, ignoring zhaun.

Her journey was not over to become a true good leader, she was barely a good moral leader in season 1. she should have become one in season 2.

The symbolism to throw away the gold to help the tree of the firelight’s, make it bloom and shine again like she wanted as a child, a city beautiful that it’s shines bright: THAT IS LIERALLY THE FIRELIGHTS HIDEOUT

That’s why it is so so disappointing that Mel Stan’s never talk about her in greater depth, brush her decisions and tactics with a moral white brush, ignore all the so obvious wealth symbolism around her that point out how far away she is from the pain of zhaunits , gaslight Jayce and ignore her journey.

And make stupid tweets.

You guys should not be angry why she didn’t end up with Jayce , but why she never had the chance to show us , that of all people in piltover, she is actually the most caring. That she would have the biggest heart for zhaun. Why didn’t we see that? When it was established how much she actually cares that people don’t suffer? Why didn’t Mel not have a single chance to interact with zhaunits ? To see their suffering ? To make actual changes ?

[alia-alia12]

By Chance

Part 5: Unsent Words

𖧹Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

𖧹Angst

𖧹0.8k

𖧹Masterlist

The soft light of early morning spilled through the sheer curtains of your bedroom, painting the walls in hues of pale gold. Birds chirped faintly outside, filling the quiet with distant melody.

But despite the peaceful surroundings, you hadn’t slept.

Memories of the night before tangled with distant echoes of the past, leaving you restless and raw. His name clung stubbornly to your mind, refusing to fade no matter how hard you tried to push it away.

You sat up slowly, running a hand through your hair as you swung your legs over the side of the bed. The wooden floor was cool beneath your feet, grounding you just enough to clear the fog in your head.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you grabbed your phone from the nightstand. Old habits.

Your fingers hovered over the screen, hesitating just long enough to let doubt seep in. It would be easy—so easy—to look him up, send a simple message, or… something.

Would he even… want to hear from you?

Your breath hitched as your mind spiraled back to the last time you saw him.

The train station buzzed with distant chatter as you stood near the boarding platform, your suitcase gripped tightly in one trembling hand. The weight of unspoken words pressed heavily on your chest.

Satoru was late.

The announcement for your departure echoed through the station as your stomach twisted with every passing second. You hadn’t told him—not until the last possible moment.

But you hadn’t expected it to hurt this much.

Suddenly, you saw him—rushing through the crowd, breathless and wide-eyed.

“Y/N!”

His voice cut through the noise, freezing you in place as he skidded to a stop in front of you.

“You’re leaving?” His voice cracked, disbelief and hurt etched into every syllable. “Why… why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

You opened your mouth—but nothing came out. How could you explain?

“I… I didn’t want to make it harder,” you whispered. “Satoru… I had to go.”

His hands clenched at his sides, knuckles white. “You could’ve told me… I would’ve—”

“What?” You cut him off, voice trembling. “Wait for me? Drop everything? You have your life here. We both know long-distance wouldn’t work.”

“That’s not your choice to make,” he snapped, hurt flashing in his blue eyes. “I could’ve… we could’ve figured it out.”

The final boarding call echoed overhead.

You stepped back, blinking through tears. “I’m sorry… for everything.”

His mouth opened, but you didn’t wait. You couldn’t.

You turned, forcing yourself not to look back even as his shattered expression burned itself into your memory.

Your hand trembled as you stared at your phone’s blank screen. His name hovered on the tip of your tongue, but what would you even say?

“Hey, I’m back. Sorry for leaving like that.”

Pathetic.

He’d probably moved on—forgotten you, forgotten that day.

And maybe… maybe that was for the best.

With a shaky breath, you set the phone down, burying your face in your hands.

There were some things you couldn’t undo, some words you couldn’t take back.

And maybe reaching out after all this time would only make things worse.

Maybe it was better to let sleeping ghosts lie.

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

The morning light streamed through Satoru’s half-drawn curtains, highlighting the clutter of books, old receipts, and discarded coffee cups scattered across his apartment. He lay sprawled on the worn couch, one arm draped over his eyes, as if blocking out the world could erase the weight in his chest.

But no amount of darkness could drown out you.

He hadn’t slept. Again.

His mind kept circling back to that night—seeing you across the street, illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlamps outside the bookstore.

You’d been so close—just a few steps away.

And he’d done nothing.

His phone buzzed faintly on the coffee table, the screen lighting up with messages he couldn’t bring himself to check. It was probably just Suguru. He sighed, running a hand through his unruly hair, fingers trembling ever so slightly.

He’d been fine—or at least, pretending to be—until Shoko told him you were back.

Now, no matter how hard he tried, the memories kept bleeding through the cracks he’d worked so hard to seal.

The first time Satoru realized he loved you, you were already leaving.

He still remembered the sharp sting of the cold air biting his skin as he sprinted through the train station, desperate to reach you before it was too late.

The moment he saw you—standing near the platform with your suitcase, your face pale and drawn—his heart shattered.

“Y/N!”

You turned, eyes widening with something between relief and dread as he skidded to a stop in front of you.

“You’re leaving?” His voice cracked, the words raw and disbelieving. “Why… why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

The way your eyes dropped, filled with regret and guilt, nearly broke him.

“I didn’t want to make it harder,” you whispered. “Satoru… I had to go.”

Had to? What does that mean?

He clenched his fists, hating how powerless he felt. “You could’ve told me… I would’ve—”

“What?” you interrupted, voice trembling. “Wait for me? Drop everything? You have your life here. We both know long-distance wouldn’t work.”

Bullshit.

“That’s not your choice to make,” he hissed, every word cutting deep. “I could’ve… we could’ve figured it out.”

The final boarding call echoed overhead.

He watched helplessly as you took a shaky step back, eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

“I’m sorry… for everything.”

And before he could speak, before he could stop you—you turned and walked away.

The last thing he saw was your retreating figure disappearing through the boarding gates.

Satoru sat up abruptly, dragging both hands down his face with a frustrated groan. Why couldn’t he stop thinking about it?

It was years ago. Years. You were probably living some perfect life far away, happy and settled.

And yet.

He glanced at his phone, hesitating for a long moment before unlocking it. His thumb hovered over your name—the only contact he’d never deleted, despite telling himself he should’ve.

He shouldn’t call. He knew that.

But the ache in his chest twisted tighter with every passing second. He could still see you, hear you, feel you—as if no time had passed at all.

The soft buzz of an incoming message snapped him out of his spiraling thoughts.

Shoko: “Lunch. My treat. Don’t flake.”

He exhaled slowly, setting the phone down with a bitter laugh.

Reaching out wouldn’t change anything.

You’d already made your choice… once.

And as much as he hated it—as much as it killed him—maybe it was time he finally let you go.

[sociopathicartist]

First of all, Merry Christmas! Could you do a Sans (UT) x female reader spending Christmas together and alone?

Merry Christmas my friend! This is shorter bc it is Christmas and I am busy today, (sorry to everyone in my inbox rn, i hear you guys), but i wanted to get this out on the holiday :3

Sans always liked Christmas.

Before the monsters were freed, and Sans’ world was at first confined to just him and his brother, Christmas was an easier time to relax.

Sure, he had to go through the effort of convincing his babybone brother that somehow Santa did in fact make stops in the underground. If he could visit over a billion homes a night, who to say that he couldn’t also just zip-zap through the barrier and visit the monsters as well? And boy did Sans really put in the effort just to see the smile on his brother's face- even sprinkling flour on the floor around some boots that he found in the back of his closet when they first moved in, making it appear like the jolly guy had really came down their air-vents and into their house.

Yeah… Air vents were the best thing he could think of, they didn’t have a chimney or anything and Sans was sure that Papyrus would set up camp right by their front door if he was told that Santa came in that way.

It was a lot of work- but it was an easier time. Simpler. Just the two of them.

Not that he wasn’t happy whenever they went up to the surface and their big, estranged friend group began to have Christmas together every year (they finally got the day right after celebrating their first party in September… whoops). It was fun being around everyone, and he’d be a liar if he said that he didn’t enjoy the loudness and laughter that was brought as everyone ate food and opened up gifts.

But… He’d also be a liar if he said that he wasn’t relieved whenever he got to experience a quiet, calm Christmas morning with you after spending so many years having loud and chaotic ones with his friends.

He loved waking up next to you. Tracing his phalanges through your hair and across your face until you woke up and realized what day it was. If heaven was real- Sans was convinced he got an angel sent straight to him. At least that’s what he saw in you whenever you smiled. Or laughed. Or looked at him.

The quiet mornings on Christmas were now a bit quieter, and he liked that. He liked spending the calm moments with you, which he now had the indulgence of sleeping in since he no longer had to wake up early to play Santa. It was calm. Peaceful.

Plus, it wasn’t like he didn’t see his brother or friends. He still got all of that, but the two of you just spent the nice morning together until you felt like heading over to Toriel’s place.

Easy. He loved sitting with you on the couch as you both sipped coffee and exchanged cute gifts you got each other- he always looked forward to what weird ketchup-flavored thing you found for him, and he always looked forward to seeing your bright smile as you tore away the wrapping paper to what he got you.

He also loved getting to trace his hands up and down your back as you both watched a Christmas movie after opening up gifts and eating breakfast, the both of you looking like a singular unit with your matching pajamas. He didn’t care if it was the cliche, cringe couple's stuff, he liked it.

Everything was so… peaceful. He got to spend the quiet, enjoyable morning with you before the rest of the day with friends began. It was nice. It was easy to forget that the rest of the world was waiting for you and him and that tomorrow the both of you would have to deal with cleaning up the mess and trying to figure out where to put everything away.

But that was tomorrow! For now, he got to enjoy today with you. He loved knowing that it would be like this every year after this one.

[pinkhearteye]

TW: Yandere, (I dont know what else I wanted to rewrite this since I quite actually skipped over editing and used ai to proof read so if you find some weird ass shit don't come for me pls ;( )

Merry christmas!!

2 Yandere females x reader

The cold nipped at your exposed skin, each icy gust cutting through you like shards of glass. Snowflakes clung to your lashes, blurring your vision as you moved forward, every step a battle against the continuing storm. Your breath came in uneven, short gasps, each one visible in the frigid air before turning into nothingness. Your head throbbed a dull, unrelenting ache that made it hard to think clearly. Every muscle in your body screamed for rest, but stopping wasn’t an option—not here, not now.

Your legs felt like jello, unsteady and weak, threatening to give out beneath you. The dizziness was overwhelming, the world around you spinning as if the ground itself were shifting. You stumbled, the snow swallowing your feet with every step. The nausea that had plagued you for hours rose again, and you barely managed to turn your head before retching, the violent motion leaving you even more disoriented. The acidic taste lingered in your mouth, a cruel reminder of how far you’d fallen.

You didn’t know how long you’d been walking. Time had lost all meaning, each second stretching into an eternity. The storm howled around you, a relentless cacophony that drowned out even your own thoughts. Your body felt disconnected from your mind, moving on autopilot, driven by some primal instinct to survive. But with each passing moment, that instinct grew weaker, the cold and exhaustion sapping your willpower.

The view was an endless scene of white, well except for the walkers, whose feet were frozen in the ground with how cold it was. Their mouths moved in slow motion and if you were to walk into them they would probably crumble. The wind tore at you, whipping your hair into your face and stealing the breath from your lungs. You stumbled again, this time falling to your knees. The snow was cold and wet against your skin, soaking through your clothes as you struggled to rise. But your legs refused to obey, and you collapsed again, the weight of your body too much to bear.

As you lay there, the snow pressing against your cheek, you felt the faintest flicker of despair. Was this it? Would this be your final resting place? Your eyelids grew heavy, the urge to close them almost impossible to resist. The cold was no longer painful; it was distant, almost comforting as if it were pulling you into a peaceful sleep.

Just as the darkness began to close in, you noticed something—a movement in the distance. Two figures on horseback, their forms blurred and indistinct through the swirling snow. At first, you thought it might be a hallucination, a cruel trick of your exhausted mind. But as they drew closer, their shapes became clearer, the horse’s hooves crunching through the snow with steady determination.

You raised a trembling hand, trying to signal them, but it felt like lifting a lead weight. Your voice, hoarse and weak, barely rose above the wind. “Help…” The word was swallowed by the storm, lost before it could reach their ears. Desperation clawed at you, but your body refused to cooperate. Your vision swam, the figures growing larger and larger until they seemed to fill the entire world. And then, mercifully, everything went black.

____________________________________________________________

Pain shot through your side, sharp and persistent, dragging you from your unconsciousness. You woke with a jolt, your breath hitching as your senses flooded back all at once. Your first instinct was to move, to fight, but a firm hand pressed against your shoulder, holding you down.

“Shh, stay still,” a soft voice murmured. It was soothing, almost gentle, but the cold press of metal against your throat sent a jolt of fear through you.

Your eyes darted around the dimly lit room, taking in your surroundings. Two girls stood over you. One had striking blonde hair that shimmered even in the faint light, her delicate hands carefully cleaning your wound. The other had black hair streaked with brown roots, her sharp eyes fixed on you as she held a knife to your throat. It was clear she hadn’t had time to visit a salon in a while(Not that she can), but the fierceness in her gaze suggested she’d been too busy with what was happening.

“Where did you get these wounds?” the black-haired girl demanded, her tone cold. “And why do you look like this?”

You swallowed hard, the blade’s edge pressing lightly against your skin. “Uh…because I was born this way?” you croaked, your voice rough from dehydration and exhaustion.

The blonde girl giggled softly, though she quickly stifled it when her companion shot her a glare. “Relax, Irina,” she said, her voice melodic. “She’s in no condition to be a threat to us.”

Irina, the black-haired girl, didn’t lower the knife. Her eyes narrowed, monitoring your every move. “That’s not an answer,” she said, her voice laced with suspicion. “What happened to you?”

You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. “I was attacked,” you finally admitted. “By someone…or something. I’ve been trying to survive since.”

The blonde girl’s expression softened, and she set aside the bloodied cloth she’d been using. “You’re lucky we found you,” she said gently. “My name’s Eliza. This is Irina. We’re…not from around here, but we’ve made this place our home for now.”

Irina finally withdrew the knife, though she didn’t sheath it. “You’re staying here until we figure out what to do with you,” she said, her tone making it clear that this wasn’t up for debate.

Your mind raced, but your body betrayed you. Exhaustion pulled at you, making it impossible to argue. “Fine,” you muttered, letting your eyes close.

Unbeknownst to you, the two girls exchanged a glance. Irina’s suspicion lingered, but Eliza’s gaze held something else entirely. Curiosity. Concern.

As the shadows of exhaustion claimed you again, the faint murmur of their voices followed you into sleep.

“She’s in bad shape, Irina,” Eliza whispered, her tone filled with worry. “We can’t just throw her out there.”

“She could be a spy,” Irina replied, her voice sharp but quieter now. “You know how things are. Trust doesn’t come cheap.”

“I know,” Eliza said softly, “but look at her. Does she really look like someone capable of pulling a stunt like that right now?”

Irina hesitated, glancing back at you. Her brow furrowed as she weighed Eliza’s words, her fingers still gripping the hilt of her knife tightly. After a tense moment, she sighed, slipping the blade into her belt. “Fine. But if she makes one wrong move…”

“I know,” Eliza said. “You’ll handle it.”

The warmth of their makeshift shelter and how comfortable you were made it nearly impossible to fall asleep.

When you woke again, it was the smell of something warm and savory. A small pot hung over a flickering fire, steam rising from it and carrying the faint aroma of herbs and meat. Eliza knelt nearby, stirring the pot with care.

“Morning,” she said, glancing over her shoulder with a faint smile. “Or whatever time it is. Hard to tell out here.”

You tried to sit up, groaning as your body protested. Eliza was at your side in an instant, helping to prop you up against a bundle of rolled blankets. “Easy. You’re still recovering.”

The room seemed more inviting in the firelight, the earlier tension softened into something almost… safe. Irina sat on a crate in the corner, sharpening her knife, her eyes darting to you every so often.

“Feeling better?” Eliza asked, offering you a small tin cup filled with steaming broth.

You nodded, the warmth of the cup seeping into your hands as you sipped. “Better than before, I guess. Thanks.”

Eliza gave you a small smile, but Irina snorted. “Don’t get too comfortable. We still don’t know anything about you.”

You sighed, lowering the cup. “I told you the truth,” you said, your voice steadier now. “I was attacked. I’ve been wandering through that storm ever since. I don’t even know where I am.”

Irina’s eyes narrowed. “Convenient,” she muttered.

Eliza shot her a warning look. “Irina, enough.”

The black-haired girl shrugged but didn’t press further, returning her focus to her blade.

“You’re in what’s left of the Northern Divide,” Eliza explained, turning back to you. “A place people usually avoid. The storm been raging for weeks now, and…” She hesitated, as if searching for the right words. “Well, let’s just say it’s not exactly a friendly area.”

“You’re telling me,” you muttered, thinking back to the unrelenting cold and the endless snow.

“Why were you even out there?” Irina asked suddenly, her tone sharp again.

You hesitated, the memory of what had happened clawing at your mind. “I… don’t remember everything,” you admitted, your voice tinged with frustration. “There was someone—someone I trusted. They betrayed me. Left me for dead.”

Eliza’s expression softened with sympathy, but Irina didn’t look convinced.

“Betrayal’s common out here,” Irina said, her voice colder than the storm outside. “Doesn’t mean we’ll pity you for it.”

Eliza shot her a glare. “Irina.”

“What?” Irina said, standing and sheathing her knife. “You’re the one who keeps bringing strays into this place. Don’t blame me for being cautious.” Without waiting for a reply, she grabbed her coat and headed toward the door. “I’m going to check the perimeter.”

Eliza sighed, rubbing her temples. “Don’t mind her,” she said, her voice tired but kind. “She’s… been through a lot.”

“So have I,” you said softly, the weight of your own experiences pressing down on you.

Eliza looked at you for a moment, her gaze searching. “I know,” she said finally. “That’s why I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt.”

____________________________________________________________

Over the next 2 months, you grew used to the rhythms of the small camp. Eliza was a constant presence, her warm smile and gentle demeanor creating a semblance of normalcy amidst the chaos of the Divide. Irina, on the other hand, remained distant, her sharp gaze lingering on you for just a second too long whenever you crossed paths.

Doubts began to creep into your mind. While Eliza’s kindness felt genuine, Irina’s hostility left you questioning whether you truly belonged here—or if they were merely tolerating you out of necessity.

_____

One evening, after sharing a meal of roasted game and skimp rations, the tension between Irina and Eliza finally boiled over.

“I don’t trust her,” Irina said bluntly, her voice cutting through the quiet like a knife. She leaned against the wall, arms crossed and her usual scowl firmly in place.

“She’s done nothing to harm us,” Eliza countered, her tone exasperated but calm. “If anything, she’s been trying to help since she could stand. Why are you being so harsh?”

Irina scoffed, pacing the small room. “Because I’ve seen this before, Eliza! We let someone in, get too close, and then they rip everything away from us. I’m not going through that again.”

“You don’t know that will happen,” Eliza argued, standing her ground. “She’s not the person who hurt us before. Don’t punish her for their mistakes.”

“I can’t take that risk!” Irina snapped, her voice rising. “You might be able to ignore the danger, but I can’t. I won’t.”

The argument escalated, their voices growing louder as they exchanged heated words. You sat in the corner, pretending to be asleep, but every word they said pierced through you.

“She’s just another burden,” Irina hissed. “We were doing fine before she showed up.”

Eliza’s voice softened but didn’t waver. “She’s not a burden. She’s a person, Irina. Someone who’s been through hell, just like us. If we can’t find it in ourselves to help her, what kind of people are we becoming?”

There was a long pause, the silence stretching unbearably. Finally, Irina spoke, her voice quieter but no less resolute. “I won’t let myself care for her, Eliza. I can’t. Not again.”

“You’re scared,” Eliza said gently, though her words carried a hint of frustration. “But you’re letting your fear dictate everything. If you keep pushing everyone away, you’ll end up alone.”

“Maybe that’s for the best,” Irina muttered before storming out of the shelter.

Eliza stood there for a moment, breathing heavily as she watched the door swing shut. Then she turned back to you, her expression softening when she saw you stirring.

“Hey,” she said, her voice gentle. “Did we wake you? I’m sorry about that.”

You forced a weak smile, nodding slightly. “It’s okay. I’m used to people yelling.”

Eliza knelt beside you, her warm hand resting lightly on your arm. “Don’t let Irina get to you,” she said softly. “She’s… complicated. But she doesn’t hate you.”

You nodded again, but the doubts in your mind only grew stronger. If Irina thinks I’m a burden, maybe Eliza does too. She’s just too kind to say it.

Eliza stayed with you until you fell asleep, her presence comforting but also confusing. You couldn’t shake the feeling that she was only being nice out of pity.

That night, the camp fell into an uneasy silence. The fire had long since died down, leaving only the faint sound of the wind slipping through the cracks in the wooden walls. You lay on your makeshift bed, the blanket Eliza had given you pulled tightly around your shoulders.

Across the room, Irina and Eliza were curled up together, their quiet breathing the only sign of peace after the earlier argument. Despite their differences, they always seemed to find comfort in each other when the world grew too cold. You had noticed the way Eliza had slipped under Irina’s arm, how Irina had instinctively pulled her closer for warmth.

Even now, you could hear them shifting occasionally, soft murmurs escaping as they adjusted their positions. Each small sound felt like a reminder that you didn’t belong here.

You sat up, clutching the blanket tightly as the plan formed in your mind. If I’m only causing problems, I need to leave. They’ll be better off without me.

Carefully, you scanned the room, searching for your old bookbag. It sat in the corner, partially buried under a pile of supplies. You winced as you stood, your body still aching from the injuries you’d sustained before they found you. Moving as quietly as you could, you slipped toward the bag, retrieving it with trembling hands.

Inside, you packed what little you had: some food, water, and Irina’s jacket that hung nearby. You hesitated for a moment, staring at the blanket Eliza had given you. It felt wrong to take it, but the biting cold outside left you little choice. Wrapping it around your shoulders, you swallowed the lump of guilt rising in your throat.

You made your way to the door, every creak of the wooden floor sounding deafening in the stillness. The plank of wood they used to bar the door from the inside was heavy, but you managed to lift it, gritting your teeth against the pain in your arms. As you tried to gently place it aside, it slipped from your grasp and crashed to the floor with a resounding thud.

Panic surged through you as you froze in place, your breath catching in your throat. Behind you, Irina shifted, muttering something incoherent in her sleep. Eliza stirred as well, murmuring softly but not waking.

Your heart raced as you shoved the door open, stumbling out into the cold night air. The plank had rolled out of reach, and you fumbled to put it back in place. Your trembling hands failed you, and the plank fell again with another loud noise.

You didn’t wait to see if they’d wake this time. You bolted, ignoring the searing pain in your legs and the icy wind biting at your exposed skin. The snow crunched loudly beneath your feet as you ran, the  sound echoing in the empty forest around you.

By the time the sun began to rise, you were gasping for breath, your legs threatening to give out beneath you. You leaned against a tree, clutching at its rough bark for support as you looked around.

The forest had thinned out, revealing a small town ahead. It was eerily silent, the streets littered with abandoned cars and buildings half-buried in snow and vines. Nature had reclaimed this place, turning it into a hauntingly beautiful scene of decay.

For a moment, you forgot your pain and fear, your gaze sweeping over the crumbling structures and frozen streets. Was this place abandoned before the world fell apart, or did something else happen here?

You pulled Irina’s jacket tighter around you, the faint scent of her lingering in the fabric. It was a strange comfort, even though her harsh words still echoed in your mind

The sun was beginning to rise, casting pale golden light over the frost-covered landscape. your  breath puffed in the cold air as you stumbled forward, her legs aching from hours of running. You leaned against a tree for support, her body trembling with exhaustion and the lingering pain that hadn’t fully subsided.

You took a moment to scan her surroundings, hoping for some sign of shelter. The forest was quiet, the snow-dusted ground broken only by patches of fallen leaves and the occasional rusted-out car. It felt desolate, untouched for years, as though even nature had given up on this place.

That’s when you saw it.

In the distance, partially hidden by the trees, a massive wall loomed. It was a patchwork of jagged metal walls and wooden planks that held up the metal walls, the seams held together with crude welds and rope. Rust streaked the metal like veins, and the wood was weathered, but the wall stood tall and imposing, a defiant barrier against the chaos outside.

your heart quickened. It wasn’t just a wall—it was a town.

You moved closer, her footsteps crunching softly in the snow. As you neared, you noticed details you hadn’t seen from afar. Walkers were impaled on spikes jutting out from the wall’s base, their lifeless bodies hanging limp like grotesque warnings to anyone who approached. The smell hit her then, sharp and sour, and you had to cover her nose with Irina’s jacket to keep from gagging.

There were voices, faint but unmistakable, coming from inside the wall. It was the first sound of life you heard in what felt like forever. You couldn’t make out what they were saying, but the tone was casual, almost... normal.

You hesitated, her hand brushing against the rough bark of a tree as you moved towards the structure. The wall stretched far in both directions, curving slightly as though encircling an entire town. The gates were ahead, two large slabs of reinforced metal bolted onto thick wooden beams. They looked like they hadn’t been opened in days, maybe weeks.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward cautiously, her eyes darting to every shadow and movement. When you reached the gates, you could see the cracks where the two panels met, faint slivers of light spilling through. You raised a trembling hand and knocked.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence.

Then, voices erupted on the other side.

“Who’s out there?” a gruff voice demanded.

You took a step back, her heart pounding. “I—I’m just looking for a place to rest,” she called out, her voice shaking.

The sound of footsteps grew louder, and suddenly, a smaller panel in the gate slid open, revealing a pair of sharp eyes glaring out at her.

“Step back,” the man barked.

You obeyed, her hands raised slightly to show you wasn’t a threat. The panel slammed shut, and a few seconds later, the gates groaned open just enough for a group of four people to emerge. They were armed, their guns trained on her as they spread out in a semi-circle.

“Name,” one of them snapped.

“I—I don’t want trouble,” you stammered. “I just... I was lost, and I saw the walls.”

“That’s not what I asked,” the man closest to you said, his rifle steady. “Your name. Now.”

You hesitated, her mind racing. “It’s... it’s Y/Nu,” You finally spoke.

“How’d you find this place?” a woman in the group demanded, her voice sharp with suspicion. “Who sent you?”

“No one,” You replied quickly. “I’ve been traveling alone. I just... I didn’t know anyone was here.”

The group exchanged glances, their expressions unreadable. One of them—a younger man with a scar running down his cheek—spoke into a radio clipped to his vest. “We’ve got someone at the gate. Get Grace.”

Your stomach churned as they waited in tense silence. The group didn’t lower their weapons, their eyes never leaving her. You couldn’t tell if they believed you—or if they were just deciding whether or not you were worth the risk.

After what felt like an eternity, more footsteps approached from inside. A woman stepped out, her presence immediately commanding. She was tall, with a composed demeanor and an unsettlingly warm smile.

“Grace,” one of the guards said, gesturing toward You.

Grace’s eyes softened as they landed on her, and she held up a hand to signal the others to lower their weapons. “You must be so tired,” she said gently, her tone a stark contrast to the tense energy around her.

You nodded slowly, your throat dry.

“You’re safe now,” Grace continued. “Let’s get you inside. You’ll see—we take care of our own.”

With a wave of her hand, Grace signaled for the gates to be opened fully. The creaking metal and grinding hinges echoed in your ears as the towering slabs of metal parted to reveal the community inside.

Your breath hitched as you stepped through.

The town was bustling with life. Small houses and shops lined the streets, their rooftops covered in snow. People moved about, some carrying supplies, others chatting in small groups. Strings of lights were strung between buildings, casting a soft glow over the scene. It was almost surreal, like stepping into a dream—or a memory of a time long gone.

Grace placed a hand on your shoulder making you tense up, guiding her further inside. “Welcome,” she said, her voice warm and inviting. “This is your new home.”

You glanced back at the gates as they closed behind her, the outside world disappearing from view. The sound of the metal slamming shut sent a chill down your spine, a strange mix of relief and unease settling over you.

You were safe—or so it seemed.

____________________________________________________________

The house was a mess, the evidence of your presence scattered around like ghosts haunting every corner. Irina leaned against the kitchen counter, her jaw clenched, as Eliza stormed through the living room, frantically searching for any clue as to where You might have gone.

“She can’t have gotten far,” Eliza said, her voice trembling as she upturned a blanket on the couch.

Irina’s gaze fell to the spot where You usually sat, bundled up in the blanket Eliza had given her. The sight of the empty space sent a pang through her chest. She hated how much it hurt. Hated how much she cared.

“She left in the middle of the damn night,” Irina said, trying to keep her tone even. “We didn’t even hear her.”

Eliza whipped around, her eyes wide and filled with something close to panic. “What if she’s hurt? She barely took anything! There’s no way she’s okay out there—”

“She’s tough,” Irina interrupted, though her voice lacked its usual confidence. She crossed her arms over her chest, as if to shield herself from the gnawing worry threatening to consume her.

Eliza wasn’t having it. “Tough?” she snapped. “She’s injured, Irina! And you know damn well she’s not used to surviving alone out there.”

Irina winced but didn’t respond. She hated when Eliza was right, but she hated the thought of You out there, alone and vulnerable, even more.

“Why didn’t she just... say something?” Eliza muttered, pacing now. Her hands fidgeted with the hem of her sweater, her movements restless. “Did we scare her? Did I—did you—do something to make her feel like she couldn’t stay?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and unanswerable. Irina turned her back to Eliza, staring out the window at the snow-covered ground outside.

“She didn’t just leave because of nothing,” Eliza continued, her voice breaking. “We—we have to find her. Irina, we have to—”

“I know!” Irina snapped, spinning around. Her hands balled into fists at her sides as she let out a frustrated breath. “I know, okay? You think I don’t care?”

Eliza froze, her eyes locking onto Irina’s.

“I care,” Irina said, her voice quieter now, almost a whisper. “More than I should. More than I want to.” She ran a hand through her hair, her frustration melting into something more vulnerable. “She’s... she’s not just some random person we picked up. She’s different.”

Eliza’s expression softened, her own panic momentarily replaced by something like understanding.

“I miss her,” Irina admitted, her voice cracking. “Damn it, Eliza, I miss her. And now she’s gone, and I don’t know if we’re ever going to see her again.”

Eliza’s eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them away, determination hardening her features.

“Then we find her,” Eliza said firmly. “We pack our things, and we go after her. We don’t stop until we bring her back.”

For the first time that morning, Irina felt a flicker of hope. She nodded, her jaw tightening with resolve.

“Let’s do it,” she said. “Before it’s too late.”

____________________________________________________________

The house was eerily quiet as You wandered through it, your blanket draped over your shoulders like a makeshift cape. The warmth of the home was almost unsettling, a stark contrast to the harshness of the outside world.

The walls were adorned with paintings—landscapes of mountains, rivers, and fields that must have looked pristine before the world went to hell. The furniture, though slightly worn, gave the place a lived-in charm. A plush couch sat in the living room, flanked by end tables with mismatched lamps.

You ran your fingers along the wooden railing of the staircase, your eyes drifting to the patterned rug beneath her feet. It all felt too good to be true, like you stumbled into someone else’s dream.

You passed through the kitchen, where the counters were clean, and the cabinets fully stocked with dishes and cookware. Your stomach grumbled at the sight of the food the leader, Grace, had sent earlier. There were canned goods, a loaf of bread, and even a jar of honey.

A soft smile tugged at your lips despite the lingering fear in her chest. This was... nice. Too nice.

You made your way upstairs, exploring each of the three bedrooms. The first had a large bed with a quilted comforter, its window overlooking the snow-covered street. The second was smaller, with a twin bed and a desk pushed against the wall. The third, though sparsely furnished, had an air of serenity.

But you didn’t feel safe in any of them. Too many windows. Too many ways for someone—or something—to get in.

Eventually, you returned to the bathroom. Its thick walls and single small window felt more secure. You dragged a pillow into the bathtub and tucked the blanket tightly around you, creating a makeshift cocoon. Before lying down, you placed a chair against the bathroom door and balanced a glass cup on the handle. If anyone tried to get in, you’d hear it.

The arrangement wasn’t comfortable, but it was practical. And that was what mattered.

Just as you was settling in, a knock echoed through the house.

You froze, your heart pounding. You slowly climbed out of the tub, her footsteps silent against the tiled floor. You moved the chair and glass carefully, then crept down the stairs.

Peeking through the curtain, you saw a man standing on the porch. He was young—mid-20s, maybe—with dark hair and a calm, open expression. He carried a small box in his hands, his breath visible in the cold air.

You hesitated, your fingers brushing the lock. He didn’t look dangerous, but appearances could be deceiving.

“Hey,” he called softly, as if sensing your presence. “I’m not here to hurt you. Grace sent me.”

You swallowed hard, debating whether to respond.

“I’ve got some stuff for you,” he continued. “Plates, silverware, that kind of thing. She thought you might need it.”

His tone was gentle, unthreatening. After another moment’s hesitation, You unlocked the door and opened it just enough to peer out.

The man offered a friendly smile, holding up the box as proof of his intentions. “See? Just the essentials.”

You nodded, stepping back to let him in.

He set the box on the kitchen counter, then turned to face her. “I’m Callum, by the way. I live a few houses down.”

You nodded again but didn’t offer her name.

Callum didn’t seem to mind. He gestured to the box. “There are some knives, forks, and spoons in there. A couple of mugs, too. Oh, and some extra candles, in case the power goes out.”

You glanced at the contents, you apprehension easing slightly. “Thanks,” you murmured.

“No problem,” he said, leaning against the counter. “Grace likes to make sure everyone’s comfortable. It’s kind of her thing.”

You frowned. “Why?”

Callum shrugged. “She thinks it makes people stay. And, well... happy people are less likely to cause trouble.”

your unease returned at his words. This place might look perfect on the surface, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something lurking underneath.

Callum seemed to sense her hesitation. “You’ll be safe here,” he said, his tone reassuring. “Just follow the rules, and you’ll be fine.”

You nodded again, though his words did little to calm your nerves.

“Well, I’ll let you get some rest,” he said, heading toward the door. “If you need anything, I’m just a few doors down. House with the blue shutters.”

You watched him leave, locking the door behind him. You returned to the bathroom, her thoughts spinning.

The house was nice. The people were kind. But it all felt too perfect, too controlled.

As you lay back down in the bathtub, pulling the blanket tightly around her, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched.

____________________________________________________________

The cold air stung Eliza’s cheeks as you adjusted the straps of the backpack slung over her shoulder. You double-checked the contents: extra food, water, first-aid supplies—anything You  might need.

She glanced over at Irina, who was zipping up she coat with a determined expression. Despite Irina’s usual stoic demeanor, Eliza could see the worry etched in her features. It was rare for Irina to show her emotions, but today, they were written all over her face.

“Got everything?” Eliza asked, her voice quieter now.

“Yeah,” Irina replied gruffly. She slung a rifle over her shoulder and glanced toward the door. “Let’s go.”

They stepped outside, the snow crunching under their boots as they began their search. The sun was higher in the sky now, casting long shadows over the trees.

Eliza’s mind raced with possibilities. What direction had You gone? were you even still alive? The thought made her chest tighten, but she forced herself to focus.

“She’s smart,” Eliza said, more to herself than to Irina. “She’d look for shelter, maybe someplace with supplies. She wouldn’t just wander aimlessly.”

Irina didn’t respond, her eyes scanning the horizon with laser focus.

As they moved through the forest, Eliza couldn’t shake the memory of the last time she’d spoken to You. She’d been sweet to her, maybe even too sweet, trying to make up for the argument with Irina. Had that backfired? Had she made You feel smothered or pressured?

“Do you think... do you think she’s mad at us?” Eliza asked hesitantly, her voice barely audible.

Irina shot her a look, her brow furrowing. “What does that matter now? She’s out here, alone. We just need to find her.”

Eliza bit her lip, nodding. But the guilt gnawed at her all the same.

They continued in silence, the tension between them palpable. But both women knew that this wasn’t about their differences or their guilt anymore. It was about finding You —before it was too late.

______________________________________________________

A sharp knock echoed through the quiet house, startling You awake. You bolted upright in the bathtub, the blanket tangled around her legs. For a moment, you forgot where you were. The cold porcelain against your back reminded you quickly.

Another knock.

“Y/N? It’s Grace,” a familiar voice called out, soft yet commanding.

Your heart raced as you carefully climbed out of the tub, avoiding the makeshift alarm you had set. You placed the glass cup on the sink counter and moved the chair away from the door. Quietly padding down the stairs, you approached the front door with a mixture of caution and curiosity.

Peeking through the curtain, you saw Grace standing on the porch, holding a steaming dish in her hands.

“Good morning,” Grace said with a warm smile when You finally opened the door a crack. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

You hesitated, unsure of what to say. You nodded slightly.

Grace tilted her head, her smile never wavering. “I brought you something. Figured you might not have had a proper meal yet.” She held up the dish, the aroma wafting through the cold air. “It’s shepherd’s pie. My mom’s recipe.”

your stomach growled, betraying her.

Grace chuckled softly. “May I come in? I’d love to talk to you about a few things while it’s still quiet.”

You hesitated but stepped aside, opening the door just enough for Grace to enter.

The leader stepped in gracefully, her polished boots tapping lightly against the floor. She moved to the kitchen, placing the dish on the counter as if she’d been here a hundred times before.

“This is a lovely home,” Grace said, her eyes scanning the room. “It suits you.”

You remained silent, watching her warily.

Grace turned, her expression softening. “I wanted to check in and see how you’re settling. I know it’s a lot to take in.”

“It’s fine,” You  murmured.

“I’m glad to hear that.” Grace folded her hands in front of her, her voice gentle yet probing. “I also wanted to tell you about the Sunday gatherings we have here. It’s a tradition in the community—an opportunity for everyone to come together, share a meal, and connect.”

You shifted uncomfortably.

“I’d really like for you to come,” Grace continued, her eyes locking onto yours . “It’s a good chance to meet your neighbors. We don’t have many new faces these days, so people are excited to welcome you.”

Your mouth felt dry. “I... I don’t know.”

Grace’s smile faltered slightly but quickly returned. “I understand. It can be overwhelming. But we’re all family here, and I think you’d find it comforting to be part of that.”

You nodded slowly, though her gut churned at the word family.

Grace seemed satisfied for the moment. She gestured to the dish on the counter. “I’ll leave this with you. Eat whenever you’re ready.”

You opened your mouth to thank her but hesitated. Something about Grace’s demeanor made you feel like there were layers to her words, like every kind gesture came with an unspoken expectation.

Grace stepped closer, her voice dropping to a soothing tone. “If you need anything—anything at all—you come to me, okay? My door is always open.”

You nodded again, unable to find her voice.

Grace reached out as if to pat her shoulder but stopped short, her hand hovering in the air before retreating. “I’ll see you soon, then,” she said, her smile bright yet unreadable.

You watched as Grace left, closing the door softly behind her.

You stared at the steaming dish on the counter, the smell of savory meat and potatoes filling the air. Her stomach growled again, but her mind was elsewhere.

The Sunday gathering. The family. Grace’s constant reassurances.

It was all too perfect. Too controlled.

You turned and headed back to the bathroom, her thoughts swirling as you prepared to eat in the one place you still felt safe.

-

The smell of the shepherd’s pie lingered in the air as You sat on the bathroom floor, the plate resting on your lap. You ate slowly, each bite tasting better than anything you’d had in a long time. But the comfort of the food didn’t ease your nerves.

Grace’s visit replayed in your mind. The woman’s smile, her soft-spoken words, her insistence on connection. It all felt rehearsed, like an act designed to put You at ease. And yet, it had the opposite effect.

As you finished the last bite, You stood and rinsed the plate in the bathroom sink. You dried it off with the edge of the blanket before tucking it into a corner of the tub with the other essentials You’d gathered.

The house was eerily quiet as you ventured out to check the doors and windows. You moved through each room methodically, ensuring every lock was secure. Your footsteps echoed in the empty halls, a reminder of just how alone you were in this new place.

In the living room, the glow of the moon filtered through the curtains, casting soft light over the furniture. You ran your fingers along the back of the couch, marveling at how clean everything was. The house seemed untouched, like it had been waiting for someone to come along and fill it with life again.

You wandered into the kitchen, your fingers brushing over the counters and cabinets. The polished wood and neatly arranged shelves made her uneasy, as if the house itself was too perfect. You opened a drawer, finding utensils lined up in a row—knives, forks, and spoons gleaming under the dim light.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at the door.

Your heart leaped into her throat as you froze in place. Another knock came, firmer this time.

“Y/N?” a man’s voice called.

You crept to the door, peering through the curtain. A tall man stood on the porch, holding a small crate in his hands.

“It’s Liam,” he said, his tone calm and friendly. “Grace asked me to bring this over for you. Just some things to make settling in easier.”

You hesitated before unlocking the door and opening it just enough to see him clearly. He had a kind face, framed by dark, slightly disheveled hair. His clothes were practical—worn jeans and a thick coat—but his boots were spotless, as if he took extra care to stay presentable.

“I didn’t mean to bother you,” he said, holding up the crate. “Just thought you might need these. Plates, utensils, a few extra blankets. Stuff like that.”

You nodded, stepping aside to let him place the crate just inside the door.

“Thanks,” You muttered, your voice barely audible.

“No problem.” Liam straightened, his eyes scanning the room behind you. “Nice place, huh? Grace always makes sure newcomers get one of the good houses.”

You didn’t respond, your eyes fixed on the crate.

Liam cleared his throat, his tone shifting slightly. “Look, I know it’s a lot to adjust to. But Grace means well. She’s got a vision for this place, and most of us are better off because of it.”

You glanced up at him, your expression unreadable.

He offered a small, apologetic smile. “Anyway, if you need anything, my house is just down the street. Third on the left. Don’t be a stranger.”

You nodded again, your grip tightening on the door.

Liam stepped back, his hands in his coat pockets. “Take care, You .”

You watched as he walked down the steps and disappeared into the night. Closing the door, you locked it and slid the chair back into place.

The crate sat in the center of the living room, its contents neatly packed. you sifted through it, finding everything Liam had mentioned and more—a few canned goods, a flashlight, and even a notebook with a pen tucked inside.

It was generous. Too generous.

You carried the crate to the bathroom, tucking it into the corner with the rest of your meager belongings. You climbed back into the tub, pulling the blanket over your shoulders as you settled in for the night.

But sleep didn’t come easily. The quiet of the house felt heavier now, like it was pressing down on your chest. Every creak of the floorboards, every rustle of the wind outside, made your  heart race.

Grace’s words echoed in your mind. We’re all family here.

You curled up tighter, clutching the blanket like a shield. you wasn’t sure if you could trust Grace, Liam, or anyone in this place.

All you knew was that you had to stay careful.

____________________________________________________________

A week passed in the community, and despite youe initial wariness, You found yourself falling into a cautious routine. Grace had a way of drawing people in with her warmth and charm, making it hard to resist her invitations to engage with the community. This time, it wasn’t just any Sunday gathering—it was the week of the Christmas party, and the preparations were in full swing.

You found yourself in the main hall, draping garlands over the windows and setting up a small, modest Christmas tree in the corner. The room smelled faintly of pine and cinnamon, the atmosphere unusually cheerful for a place that still had an undercurrent of tension. Grace, ever the orchestrator, worked beside you, chatting animatedly about the upcoming festivities.

“You’ve got a knack for this,” Grace said, stepping back to admire the arrangement You had just finished. “Everything looks beautiful.”

“Thanks,” You mumbled, brushing your hands off on your jeans.

Grace hesitated, her expression shifting to something a little more serious. “Speaking of beautiful things, we’ve had two new arrivals today.”

your heart skipped. New arrivals weren’t exactly rare, but the thought always came with a sense of unease.

“Really?” You asked, trying to sound casual as you adjusted a strand of lights.

“Yes, two young women,” Grace said, her tone light, but her words careful. “They’ll be staying in the house just across from yours.”

You froze for a second before masking your reaction with a nod. “I see.”

“I’d like you to help them settle in,” Grace continued, handing you a neatly packed basket filled with utensils and plates, much like the one Liam had brought you on your first night. “This is for them. And…” Grace paused, giving You a pointed look. “It would be good for you to introduce yourself. Let them know about the Christmas party too.”

your stomach twisted at the request, but you nodded, taking the basket. “Sure.”

You made your way across the snow-dusted streets, the cold biting at your exposed skin. The house Grace mentioned stood out with its freshly lit windows and the sound of faint movement inside. You approached the door, basket in hand, and took a steadying breath before knocking.

The door creaked open moments later, revealing none other than Eliza.

your breath hitched, but before Eliza could get a word out, you launched into a rehearsed introduction.

“Hi, I’m Y/N. I live just across the street,” You said quickly, shoving the basket into Eliza’s hands. “Grace asked me to bring you this—utensils, plates, that kind of stuff—and to let you know about the Christmas party in the main hall. Everyone’s invited, and, um… yeah. Enjoy your stay.”

You didn’t give Eliza time to respond, practically spinning on your heel and heading back down the porch steps.

“Wait—” Eliza’s voice called out behind you, but You  idn’t stop. Your heart pounded in your chest,your mind racing with the implications.

They’re here. They found me.

[sugawhaaa]

JEONGIN X READER

🕯𝄞 ⋆꙳❅🦢*❆ The Nutcracker ⋆꙳❅🦢*❆𝄞🕯

Warnings//genre:: fantasy...that's it

Pairing:: nutcracker!jeongin x clara!reader

A/N:: nothing in this fully makes sense or lines up with the plot of the original nutcracker but as I think I have said on here before this Christmas nutcrackers have really interested me so...here we are. And yes ik this is a little weird but I love it so just keep scrolling 😤

Skz masterlist:: 🥁

🎧::

As you ripped the thin red paper off of the box your heart raced with excitement but your expression quickly shifted upon seeing what hid behind the paper. A nutcracker neatly tucked into a box with a plastic window to see the figure. You feel a catch in your breath upon seeing the neatly painted nutcracker and you smile.

"What is that supposed to be?" Your older sister leans in as she sets aside her beautiful doll with a pink dress and curly blond hair.

"He's a nutcracker," you smile before gently opening the box and caressing his face.

"It's a nutcracker? How? It doesn't even have a mustache or tall boots and his hair is orange," your sister takes the nutcracker from your hands to inspect it. You shrug and take it back.

"I love him all the same," you move the little lever in the back of his head to make his jaw move. Your parents and sisters get ready for bed while you stay with your little nutcracker on the floor.

"C'mon it's time to go to bed, I know you're the oldest but you're gonna have to be up early tomorrow for Christmas morning," your mom explains and you set the nutcracker on the stand above the fireplace. You sneak a cookie from the kitchen table before going to bed. You tuck under the sheets and rest your head against the plush of your pillow and the world begins to fade into complete silence and peace.

Suddenly you hear something rattle downstairs. It startles you awake and you make your way out to the hallway, the sound now coming to a halt. You then go to the bathroom and when you finish your business you glance out at the living room. Was the Christmas tree always so large? And the couch?

You carefully tread out to the living room and as you progress you notice you are now the size of a pea. You must be dreaming, a weird dream from the cookie before bed no doubt, but as you examine the living room from a new angle you hear indistinct chatter. Suddenly a big fat rat comes into your view. He's sitting on a small wagon that other mice are carrying. You look stunned as you watch them squeak by.

The king cries on about wanting food before stumbling upon your gaze. He orders the mice to carry him in your direction.

"And who are you? Mrs. Gawking," he puts his hands on his hips and you notice the crown on his head now that he is this close.

"No, no, I am Y/N, I live here," you explain and the rat king laughs.

"Right, right, than why aren't you paying me taxes or rent?" He king huffs and you laugh but your laugh seems to be the only one echoing in the massive living room. "I have not once received food or goodies from you, so why shouldn't I get the guards to take you and throw you out!" The rat king shouts and you chuckle softly but you realize he is serious.

"W-Well because I don't have any," you explain and rat king laughs.

"Likely story," he then orders the mice to take you away but before their grimy hands can come in contact with your body a man steps in front of you.

"What seems to be the trouble here, good sir," A man in a red suit stands before you. He wears a tall hat and lots of gold accessories among his deep red outfit.

"She hasn't been paying me!" The rat king whines and the man nods. As you look at the man closer you notice orange hair peaking out through his hat. Is this...no way.

The nutcracker kindly negotiates with the rat king and he scurries away with his crew of mice slaves.

"Sorry, I could only buy you some time," the nutcracker turns to you, a candy cane staff in his hand.

"Are you..?" You look up at him and the man chuckles hinting at the hidden relation.

"You seem to be lost, very far from home," the nutcracker jokes and you nod.

"Yeah...why is this happening? Why am I here?" You plead him for some answers but he goes silent.

"Honestly...I can't tell you that," he quickly takes your hand. "But I'm warning you now Y/N, you need to leave right now," he looks into your eyes deeply, his boba eyes touching your soul. "It's nearly a war zone down here, the king has lost his mind," the nutcracker sighs with a shake of his head, the accessories on his hat fluttering with the motion.

"I can't simply leave knowing the place is in chaos," you explain, silently pleading to stay with him. He thinks for a moment before taking a deep breath.

"You can take care of it when you get back to your bigger self. Just pick up the rat king and throw him outside," the nutcracker puts a hand to your shoulder and you think about his advice. "That way no one else will get harmed and it'll be much easier on your body," he winks before taking your hand. "Come, we must get you back to bed,"

"But I'm not tired yet," you protest with a shake of your head as you pull your hand back. The nutcracker then tucks his staff away.

"Either way you need to get somewhere safe," the nutcracker grabs your hand again, softer this time with less urgency. He starts to walk you back to your room but the walk is far with such short legs. As you walk hand in hand you look over up at him, taking in his strong and bold facial features and his contrasting soft orange hair.

"So...do you have a name?" You lean forward a little to get a better view at him.

"Jeongin," he smiles and you're taken aback.b

"An interesting name for a nutcracker," you look up at him before shrugging and he chuckles. He didn't sound offended by your comment which was good.

"You think so hm?" He smiles at you with a tilt of his head.

"Do you know why this is happening?" You ask again though you know you won't receive much of an answer.

"Who can say, darling," he lets go of your hand to trot ahead of you. "Maybe so you can get a feel for how to be treated by a gentleman," he bows in front of you. "Or maybe to teach you to be grateful for what you have?" He jumps to stand next to you again and you pause before getting offended.

"I'm very grateful for what I have!" You retort back quickly.

"Then maybe it's the first option?" He raises a brow with a little smirk. "Ah and here we are, we must part at last my love," he says as he stops by your bedroom door.

"How am I supposed to get to my bed when I'm so small?" You look over at your bed which now looks more like a building due to your shrunken size. Jeongin thinks for a moment before smiling. He kisses you softly and you jump back. "What was that for?"

"To turn you back to normal," he tilts his head with a cheeky smile before everything goes dark and you hear shouting in the distance. You sit up quickly and realize you are in the comfort of your bed. You look out the window to see snow fluttering down. You hear your sisters outside your bedroom shouting about Christmas morning and Santa. You stand up and yawn, the dream you had sinking in deep and you notice a little mouse in the corner of your room wearing a tiny crown.

You look wide eyed and chase after it but it scurries behind your dresser and presumably into the wall.

Perhaps it wasn't entirely a dream?

[miss-conjayniality]

enhyungline as mariah carey songs 🦋🌟

genre: fluff. PURE FLUFF!

pairing: enhyungline x gn!reader

word count: 1766

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS DAAHHHLLIINGSSS!!! 🌟omfg i meant to post this over a week ago 😭 but I’ve been soooo fawking busy with life and I got sick but I’m all good now so here y’all go! as a huge engene AND lambily, I wanted to pay tribute to the queen of christmas by assigning different songs by her to our beloved enhyungline! 🩷 christmas may be almost over but mariah’s got a vast catalogue that’s classic, timeless, and sonically diverse. i’m a mimi stan all year round dahhlliinnggss 💅🏼 I’ve been meaning to do this for a while too🫣

also…can we fucking TALK about how enhypen dropped an EP called daydream, which also happens to share the same name as one of mimi’s BEST ALBUMS EVER!?!?? GOOD FUCKING GOD!!!! THEY DID THIS SHIT FOR ME ISTG!!!!

ALSO….i definitely didn’t cry or get delusional while writing this🤠🫣

P.S.: heeriah leerey IS in fact mariah’s adoptive son. I SAID WHAT I SAID! PERIODT.

HEESEUNG: MUSIC BOX.

“when i am lost, you shine a light for me and set me free. when i am low, you wash away my tears and take me through the loneliness and emptiness. through the darkest nights, somehow i survive through it all”

“your love is strong enough to lift me up. if i’m afraid, oh baby. you chase away my fears and take me to a brighter place.”

do you remember those music boxes you loved during your childhood years because they would open up to little angels dancing around in circles to melodious tunes? heeseung is exactly that - in human form. being around him evokes feelings of nostalgia and comfort because he reminds you of a simpler time when life felt magical and full of wonder. his presence is like the soft melody of a music box, enveloping you in warmth and tranquility, making you feel cherished in a way that feels timeless.

heeseung is a dreamy, delicate angel come to life. he has a calming energy that feels timeless and effortlessly comforting. the type of lover to cuddle with you underneath a weighted blanket after taking a warm soothing bath together. the type of lover to steep green tea for you, watch vintage disney films with you, and softly hum sweet melodies to you as he holds you close, making you feel cherished and at peace in his embrace.

heeseung’s love feels like a safe haven, a quiet sanctuary where time slows down, and the world outside fades away. his presence is a gentle reminder that even in life’s chaos, there’s always space for warmth, tenderness, and the beauty of simple, meaningful moments. with him, every shared glance and unspoken word feels intentional, like he’s crafting a world where love is soft, steady, and substantial. he has a way of making you feel as if you’re the only person that matters, wrapping you in a sense of security that feels both grounding and ethereal.

with heeseung, love feels like being carried through life’s storms with unwavering strength and care. when the weight of the world feels too heavy, his arms are always there to be wrapped around your shoulders. his quiet reassurance dissolves your fears like the clouds in the sky after a thunderstorm.

heeseung is an uplifting lover. when times get rough, he encourages you to overcome your fears and persevere through the madness. just his belief in you alone could move mountains. in his arms, you feel safe enough to dream again, his love lifting you from darkness and showing you the light of brighter, better days ahead.

your admiration for heeseung is never-ending. there is no one before him that could ever match his level. and there’s certainly no such thing as “after” once he appeared into your life. his warm, compassionate nature is rare in this cold, harsh and cruel world. you are his sunshine, and he is your sunshine protector. ever since you met him, he’s inspired your sense of adventure.

whether it’s buzz lightyear action figures, legos, or stuffed animal deers, heeseung serves as a powerful reminder to never neglect your inner child 🩷

JAY: VISION OF LOVE.

“treated me kind. sweet destiny. carried me through desperation. to the one that was waiting for me. it took so long. still i believed…somehow the one that i needed would find me eventually.”

“i had a vision of love. and it was all that you’ve given to me. i had a vision of love. and it was all that you turned out to be.”

you CANNOT tell me this man isn’t the personification of this song. jay HIMSELF is theee vision of love! PERIODT.

jay is the type of lover most people envision when it comes to experiencing true love. not just romantically. but on every level. eros. philia. storge. agape. in a world of fakers disguised as lovers, jay floats above the fray and proves that love is real. the lover whom you’d encounter by chance one day, only to realize he was the one your soul had been searching for all along. you had been trying to hard all these years to seek out love, yet eventually you found him…unintentionally.

jay’s embodies the type of love that’s even better than what you witness in novels and films. even in the mundane tasks such as filing taxes, doing the laundry, etc., he makes it enjoyable. and because of those enjoyable moments, he inspires you to conquer anything life throws at you. that’s how transformative his love is. he’s the reason why you’re so grateful for life, no matter how tough it gets.

jay doesn’t just love you in the extraordinary ways (i.e.: buying luxury gifts, or wooing you with lavish vacations). he loves you in the unassuming ways too - the kind of moments that go unnoticed. for example, if you’re nervous at a public gathering, he’ll recognize that feeling and hold your hand tight. sometimes, he’d look at you like you’re the only person in the room. or maybe he’ll give his jacket to you when you’re feeling cold. no matter what the situation is, his attentive love reminds you that you’re never alone. it’s the love that strengthens you, grounds you, and pushes you to believe in the beauty of life, no matter how unpredictable it may be.

sometimes you even wonder how on earth you managed to land such a generous, patient man like jay. the gratitude you hold in your heart for him is unmatched. it’s hard to even believe he’s real. but there he is. as real as can be. sometimes you cry because you’re afraid he wouldn’t love your imperfections - such as the way you manage your emotions under stress, or the moments when you doubt yourself.

but jay would assure you that no matter what, you are worth loving. and you are his vision of love too.

JAKE: YOURS.

“you brighten up the moon and stars at night. you keep me seeing rainbows in the sky. you bring new meaning to my life now. i believe in miracles. baby, i’m forever yours.”

“i keep thankin’ the lord above for blessing me with oh so much. ‘cause i know how it feels to be part of you boy. everyday my life’s so abundant with joy. and i honestly never thought love could be real until the angels guided you to me.”

jake is a living embodiment of the australian sunshine. because he HIMSELF is the australian sunshine! whenever he walks into any room, the whole place brightens up. his presence is the midas touch. he’s the rainbow to your rainy days. it’s the little things that make you fall for him even deeper. his hospitality towards other people, the way he treats animals and children, and his overall selfless nature.

jake’s love is bountiful. he knows how to make you feel cherished in ways you never thought possible. he remembers the subtle details - your favorite song, the way you order your coffee, the board games you enjoy, and the sparkle on your face whenever you see layla. he turns them into valuable moments of connection. with him, love isn’t just spoken in grand declarations, it’s the kind of love that speak louder than words ever could. ultimately, love is a verb. it is performed through daily actions.

with jake, the level of gratitude you possess has increased. he has a way of shifting your perspective, helping you notice and appreciate the little things that once went overlooked. you know…like the beauty of a sunrise, the tranquility of a quiet moment, or the comfort of simply being together. quality time is his love language. he is the living meaning of “quality time”. no matter how minuscule a moment may seem, he inspires you to see the beauty in those moments. his unwavering positivity and selflessness inspire you to find happiness in even the smallest of blessings.

jake’s positive attitude is contagious. it even influences you. he’s what it means to be a miracle. he’s a warm and nurturing lover to you. he’s the partner whom you’d be happy to share and embrace your life with.

in fact, he’s more than just your significant other. he’s your best friend and your partner-in-crime. he’s….yours.

SUNGHOON: I’LL BE LOVIN’ U LONG TIME

“there's no stopping you and me. i'll be loving you long time (as i can breathe). i'll be loving you long time (eternally).”

“don't care what no one has to say. they don't understand us like we do. i need you near me night and day. together, there ain't nothin' we can't do. scoop me up and we can go to that little spot where no one knows. spend a little time just us alone. you can caress my body and never let go.”

sunghoon is the kind of lover that just randomly appears in your life one day. he is someone who starts off as your friend first, and gradually becomes your lover. hoonie isn’t one to open up so easily. he’s guarded with whom he shares the fullness of his heart with because he’s someone who loves deeply. and he can’t bear the feeling of heartbreak. he craves a stable, healthy, wholesome relationship void of petty drama.

sunghoon is a loyal friend to you. he always supports your endeavors and is a shoulder to cry on during the rough times. he’s exactly everything a good friend should be - someone who listens without judgment. the type of friend who remembers subtle details like your comfort film or your favorite dish. he brings light to your life even during the darkest moments.

sunghoon eventually finds himself falling for you, his best friend. and it hurts him because he fears that you don’t love him back. when you noticed him behaving unusually and not interacting with him as much, he had no choice but to reluctantly confess his feelings for you. when he noticed the tears falling down your eyes and the smile that formed on your face, he was caught off guard from it.

finally, you admitted. someone who feels the same way about you the way you feel for them. the moment you gave him that initial hug, he too hugged you back. as your friendship evolves into courtship, you two are in it with each other for the long haul. that was the moment when both of you never looked back. you are each other’s allies and confidantes. you are each other’s lovers and friends.

you two love each other for life. your love for each other is unwavering and timeless. it’s the kind of love that feels both magnetic and enduring. sunghoon’s style of loving isn’t the kind that’s frequently communicated through histrionics commonly seen in films and literature. his loyalty for you is shown through his daily actions. ultimately, sunghoon knows that real love takes sincerity and discipline. he has a natural, effortless charm that that captivates you, not just in fleeting moments, but in ways that linger and stay with you long after.

he’s a reminder that true love is about consistency, depth, and a connection that withstands the tests of time.