#i wish those people nothing but the best in life

[hrrtshape]

✶ THINGS TO REMEMBER WHEN YOU’RE DOUBTING SHIFTING.

𖥻  SPACE. just.. HELLO ?? we are literally a speck of dust in a ginormous cosmic playground that we can’t even fully explore because we’re too busy figuring out if cats can vibe to beethoven or if that godforsaken dress is white or blue. you think THIS is the only reality? somewhere out there, there’s a planet where the sky is pink, dogs talk, and you’re riding unicorns. shifting is NOT a crazy concept.

𖥻 DINOSAURS. THEY. WERE. REAL. like actual dragons without wings, stomping around, acting like they owned the place. if THAT can exist, why not shifting ? you think the universe peaked at “giant chickens with teeth”? no way. reality is way too wild for limits.

𖥻 DÉJÀ VU. EXPLAIN IT WITHOUT THE MULTIVERSE. I DARE YOU. why do we randomly feel like we’ve been here before, done this before, or even said this before? because we HAVE. somewhere, somewhen, sometime. you’re already living proof of infinite realities brushing shoulders.

𖥻 QUANTUM PHYSICS (4 da nerdies). scientists out here with their schrödinger’s cats and double-slit experiments proving that reality isn’t fixed. it’s ALL probabilities until you observe it.

𖥻 YOU'RE HUMAN. our brains are INSANE. dreams? lucid dreams? daydreaming? thinking of a time and feeling like you just tasted it? if your brain can already do ALL THAT, shifting is just another level. literally just....closing your eyes and opening them in another place.

𖥻 YOU'RE ALREADY DOING IT. every time you daydream or even think “what if,” you’re stepping closer to a version of yourself in another reality. you're peeking through the multiverse’s window. shifting is just diving in instead of peeking.

𖥻 YOUR DESIRES EXIST. if you can imagine it, it exists somewhere. that’s not wishful thinking; that’s logic. where do ideas come from if not from infinite possibilities? you’re not just dreaming—you’re remembering. nothing goes by you without a purpose. if it found you, it was supposed to !!!!!!!

𖥻 THE MANDELA EFFECT. remember when pikachu definitely had a black tail tip, or when the berenstain bears were called the berenSTEIN bears? reality’s already glitchy as fuck. shifting? just another glitch—but YOU’RE IN CONTROL.

𖥻 FAIRYTALES HAD TO COME FROM SOMEWHERE. you think someone just WOKE UP and said, “dragons, magic castles, enchanted forests!” no. no. no. those stories? they’re just whispers from realities where that’s NORMAL. you’re not making it up—you’re tuning in. experiencing it. liviiiiiiiing it.

𖥻 TIME IS FAKE. i said it. not to get too conspiratorial on my tumblr blog, but what even IS time? a straight line? a wibbly-wobbly thingy? we made clocks, but the universe? the universe is, like, “what is a ‘tuesday’?” shifting doesn’t care about time; it’s above all that silly nonsense. and so are you.

𖥻 PARALLEL UNIVERSE ARE A THING ('n' SCIENCE effing SAID SO). quantum mechanics already told us there’s an infinite number of realities where every possibility plays out. in one of them, you’re already living your best life. shifting is just YOU popping in to say hi to THAT version of you.

𖥻 REALITY IS (lowkey) BORING WITHOUT BELIEF. why settle for “this is it. this is my life. a 9-5 job. a life which i barely live out” when the multiverse is basically screaming, “come explore!!” ? you’re a creator. you’re a wanderer.

𖥻 "I FEEL IT" IS ENOUGH. don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. if you can close your eyes and feel that DR, the love, the magic, the LIFE—you’re already there. the multiverse doesn’t need proof; it needs belief. so don't let idiots with half a brain on tik tok tell you that you're wrong, when you're so, so, so, so, SOOOO close to BEING THERE and living your best life.

𖥻 finally, LITERALLY, WHY NOT ?  life’s already bananas. people thought flying was impossible, and now we’re out here booking ryanair flights to halfway across the world. people said sex with robots isn't true, and kim k is already siting on a robot's lap. people said the government cannot be stupid, and elon musk is already part of it. shifting is just the next “impossible” (and not to be cheeky...but the word literally has 'i'm possible' in it) thing that YOU are proving possible.

so. girl. dude. diva. bro. go shift.

[captain039]

On the edge

Alpha Jayce x omega reader

Warnings: AOB, light swearing, feral alpha, intimacy, angst, Spoilers? Fated mates

Jayce returns changed from whatever he was in. Changed and feral with animalistic needs over glowing him

When a medical officer came to your door you were truely not prepared for what you saw. They had timidly ask you to follow them without any other explanation and you were confused and worried afraid one of your family members had been injured but seeing him, in a white room with a simple mattress on the floor and nothing else broke your heart. When Jayce disappeared you didn’t know what to do, his mother heart broken, Viktor gone, Mel gone half the council dead, Caitlyn turning into head enforcer, and you stuck sitting in a lab with neither Jayce or Viktor by your side. You were by Jayce’s side the whole time Viktor was in that strange case of whatever it was, the hextech fused into this giant healing bath almost. You didn’t know what to do watching the alpha loose part of his small close pack, his best friend and then he disappeared went into the hextech core room and never came back with either of his companions till now.

You stared at the alpha, his jaw so tense you were afraid he’d break teeth. His teeth were bared and he was panting heavily hands fisted by his side. You see his bracelet stone now fused into his skin, you see the wolf untamed hair on his head the beard he’d grown, what happened to him?

“We’ve been unable to reach him” the medical officer says beside you and you barely register their words eyes wide mouth slightly part as you stare at Jayce. The once clean golden boy, turned into this.

“We’ve tried everything. We did a mate test on him” you freeze at those words. You half figured it was Mel, but she’s gone too. A mate test was a pricey test you could get if you wish to find your fated, though most people left it down to chance but now it was harder and harder to find one so people gave up while scientists made a new way to find them.

“Mel?” You ask and they shake their making you frown.

“Who?” You ask frowning.

“You my lady” the medical officer says and you frown how the hell were you his mate? You’ve known him your whole life and nothing?

“That’s not possible” you whisper and the officer gives a small sad smile.

“I guess you want me to- go in there?” You ask gesturing to his white room.

“It would be dangerous. he cannot see us through the screen so we will turn it on so he can” the officer waves a hand to the security camera and the alphas body flinches staring at the now two way window. His eyes are the same but different somehow wild, untamed with hunger maybe. You don’t know what to do as he looks to the officer and growls like some wild beast and charges at the glass fists pounding against it making you flinch and step back. He doesn’t notice you too busy with this wild look at the officer.

“Few officers will be around him due to this behaviour I have chosen to stay but he doesn’t like that” the officer comments and you nod.

“Right” you mutter.

Nothing changed for a week, he never looks at you only whoever is beside you having some bad memory and rage towards them. You’re starting to think he doesn’t know who you are and your heart breaks. You’ve slowly come of your suppressors as the officers request, it took a few weeks to adjust but now you feel semi normal as you head back to the facility. You hate the looks you get seeing as natural born omegas are few to none around here in the upper city. You look at Jayce in his room he’s sitting on his bed staring at the ceiling a muscle twitching every now and then his knuckles are bruised and bloodied as always and he looks worse, hollow eyes with big dark eye bags. You hesitate at the door looking to the camera as the door buzzes and unlocks. You head inside seeing Jayce up instantly and snarling. The door seals behind you and you stand very still unsure how to approach or say him in this state. He eyes you and you eye him for what feels like forever before he begins to walk over your whole body tense as his eyes stay on yours intensely before he’s a foot away. You frown at his changed scent missing his old one.

“Jay-“ before you can even finish you’re pressed against the door the wind knocked out of you, your arms pinned above your head and hot breath on your neck. You’re frozen in fear never had him be this rough or physical before he always gave the best hugs but he wasn’t an overly touchy person. He’s panting harshly and he’s overly warm almost feverish as his hands grip your wrists tightly and his head rests by your neck. He’s too close but not close enough suddenly your omega senses already haywire from coming off suppressants. He lifts his head up eyes hard and narrowed as he stares at you before something flicks on them. Recognition? Realisation? You don’t know but his eyes soften his hands loosen and his shoulders drop as tears well in his eyes and he mutters your name. Relief floods you like tidal wave and you almost want to cry too as Jayce lets your wrists go wraps his arms around your waist and presses himself impossibly close. His face is buried in your neck and you wrap your arms around his neck crying silently. He breathes heavily as he cry’s his strong arms tight around your waist like he’s afraid to let go.

“You’re ok” you whisper taking a shaky breath, hand brushing against his neck and through his long hair. He shakes his head and you frown trying to pull back but he doesn’t let go holding you tighter instead.

“Jayce- I can’t breathe” you say and he relaxes his arms but doesn’t let go you take in a breath just running your fingers over the base of his skull and down his neck and back up. He twitches sometimes and it makes you worry but after a while he lets go wiped his eyes and looks at you. You watch though as something glazes in his eyes like a shade and he’s tense and on edge again jaw clenched and he glares and snarls storming away from you. You stare in confusion as the alpha sits down and stares at the ceiling again, the door buzzes and unlocks and you slip out still confused.

“What was that?” You ask the medical officer.

“Something happened to him, made him feral” she says.

“Feral?” You say shocked there’s hardly been any feral alphas in the upper city.

“This is the first time he’s been out of it” she comments tapping on her holotablet.

“How do we get him back?” You ask frowning.

“It’s a hard process, we can try the subtle way or the medical way” she comments.

“Subtle way?” You ask.

“We coax him out by doing daily things, normal things, trying to reteach him I guess you could say, you’d be our main candidate for him to see” she explains.

“And the medical way?” You whisper.

“We operate on him, send electrical currents to rewrite his brain” she says like it’s no big deal and you flinch but nod.

“Subtle way, has his mother been by?” You ask.

“Yes” she says simply and you figure you won’t get much more than that from her as you nod, thank her and leave the facility. You walk to Ms Talis home knock on the door you haven’t spoken to her in a while.

“Oh” she says as she opens the door seeing you saying your name before urging you inside. She makes you tea and you both sit down at the table.

“I saw Jayce today” you say quietly unsure of how to step. A deep sadness etched her features and she nods.

“How is he?” She asks.

“He recognised me” you whisper and she jolts and looks to you.

“I went into the room today, it was brief for five minutes he didn’t say anything though before he went back-“ you hate saying the word feral, such a barbaric term. You watch as Jayces mums eyes fill with tears and you give her hand a comforting squeeze.

“We’ll get your boy back Ms Talis” you whisper to her in promise.

[thatneoncrisis]

Sorry to keep dragging you through Arcane hell (the new season is... oof) but I am curious what your thoughts on silco are? Realising more and more that silco and sevika are the only part of the show I gave a fuck about and my love of season one was really just those two.

i keep putting things under a readmore so if ppl dont want to see me go "damn this was good i wish it was better" they dont have to

i think silco on paper has potential to be one of my favorite characters on the show, and barring that at least one of the most layered and well crafted. his and vanders dynamic is by no means unique, its very professor x and magneto, which is already something i can take or leave. "oh we were childhood friends and allies fighting for a better future but one of us got soft while the other became hardned and radicalized" the narrative of the terrorist freedom fighter, one corrupted by power is done a Lot bc of a general apprehension in shows like this to endorse violence on the behalf of the oppressed class BUT i think his relationship with jinx was a good addition and if like one or two changes were made it could have been some of the best the show has to offer

for the sake of this post, im going to ignore the reveal that silco knew jinxs mother before her death i think that was dumb and bad. essentially, the show begins with silco and vander at odds- they both are doing what they believe needs to be done in order to secure zauns future, and both of them are ultimatrly hurting zauns people; silco is flooding the streets with shimmer and vander is working with enforcers. silco is primarily motivated by power, but vander is motivated by his love for his kids, this is the only way he has even the slightest assurance that he can keep them from run ins with the law, a law that has a precedent for tossing children in maximum sexurity prisons.

vanders death and silcos subsequent acqusition of jinx flips the coin. there is now something in his life to love, to protect, to care for. he is falling into the same behavior that vander was, even if he is far worse at it bc hes a terrible father whos also a drug lord and just kind of lets his unstable daughter sit in a. ave and build bombs all day. hes not *good* but he *cares* evidenced by him literally needing to be sedated when jinx gets surgery so he didnt flip the fuck out

in a straightforward narrative, this is a story about a man having to choose between his daughter and his passion project. zaun is something he has given his life for, hed do anything to have it succeed... except one thing. that one thing. "there is nothing so undoing as a daughter" is probably one of my favorite lines in the show. i really do wish we had gotten More of them, especially at the beginning when she was a baby and silco doesnt really know what to do with her, which brings me to my next bit-

i think sevika is an indespensible part of the triangle of silco and jinx triangle. i find her position interesting as she is not only second in command, but second to jinx, a literal child. she can be the best right hand man a guy could ask for, she is so dedicated to his cause she betrayed vander, she has given her life and limb for this shit. but she will never be jinx. and i think the conversation of like, how far will silco go before he is forced to choose is kind of awesome. the ultimatum jayce gives him is good it is the breaking point of him trying to do both. he is directly responsible for the "monster" piltover is hunting, he didnt try to keep her in line, he let her do whatever she wanted and he is now directly reaping the consequences. frankly, i think sevika should have been present for that choice in some capacity, eavesdropping or something, so certain that hell make the right choice, its just a girl. and she sees him falter. him not choosing is a choice, he cannot actually make the sacrifices required to get shit done. hed orphan a thousand children to build his utopia, but he cant let go of his girl

anyway all of that was really cool and interesting so you imagine my frustration when his choice is taken from him via jinx flipping out, kidnapping him then shooting him. it was so. anticlimatic. it *feels* like its supposed to be a tragedy, oh she assumes the worst when he was actually going to choose her, but those conclusions feel too. private. like he dies with basically no one knowing he was this close to selling zaun up a river for his girl. i dont think he should have died i think he should have been disgraced for daring to have it all. anyway i think instead of jinx overhearing him talk outloud and coming to the wrong conclusion sevika should have deliberately led her there 1. to piss her off on purpose and 2. prove a point to silco that jinx is unstable and a liability, but not assume shed go far enough to kill him, bc they both still care about him.

overall any of my issues with how his story goes is just a combination of my distaste for that particular archetype, where he is so incredibly comically evil i cannot take a single one of his points seriously even though they Are correct (killmonger. its just killmonger again) and the show just once again not having time for anything with him that is not The Plot. the fondness he has for jinx is apparent i just wish it could COOK longer i wanted MORE, i wanted to see him foster that love of inventing in her, even though it is clearly just because the weapons she makes are helpful to his cause, i want to see her genuinely give input on his ideas, i want to see them talk about vander. his human elements are like too sparse for me to latch on to its like the Idea of them, i go oh i see what you guys are Trying to do. there is too little of him i see him cooing over his daughter then going back to his crack cocaine mines staffed by orphan children and i ask does the show jave anything to say about this cognative dissonance? no? i find it really telling that one chem baron was pissed at the enforcers for her son dying, and yes they were Definitely a factor but WHY DO YOU HAVE YOUR SON WORKING IN THE CRACK COCAINE MINES MAAM. YOU WERE KIND OF ASKING FOR IT. theres no like, conversation about what the corrupting influences of power does to the next generation even when the best of intentions are had. jinx constantly taking shimmer in season 2 for power ups, a direct product of her fathers worst tendancies, and it having NO ill effects on her, shes not reduced to the animalistic state of the drug addicts we are CONSTANTLY seeing on the streets bc. why. is she built different. the metaphor is RIGHT THERE her father/shimmer enable her but they are also killing her from the inside mein GOTT.

also the first time i watched this show i kept confusing him with viktor lol

[yekuthiel]

the casual antisemitism within muslim social activist groups is so fascinating to me .. if your activism doesn’t include all minorities than your not being an activist at all — your being a hypocritical racist .

literally just saw a post on pinterest where someone was like “normalize being muslim and respecting jews” — the first comments was people saying “even after what those jews did to palestine?” or “i like the jews but not Israelis”

the op agreed with them saying “not all jews are bad!!”

no mention that hating Israelis on behalf of their government is fucking racist — nothing .

just indirect jew blaming and backhanded antisemitic ‘compliments’ (shit like saying they are the good ones) towards any jewish people they knew in their life .

to be honest i wish i could just … say directly to the faces of people like this ,,

your activism is shallow because you will give into your antisemitic bias as soon as you have a “reason” too , you tokenize and fetishize the only jews you know .

even when you are trying to appear all inclusive your true colors still show , you haven’t grown past your antisemitic biases .

..

in a way it makes me sad because for years i stood with the muslim community in america despite how much islamophoic propaganda was shoved down my throat from the media because of 9/11 ,, some of my first experiences in protests was advocating for freedom of religion for muslims in china who where being sent to death camps because of their faith ,, i read islamic scripture and watched hours long video essays to understand their faith more than just a surface level ,, i went out of my way to find and read books made by muslims on their view on societal issues so i could educate myself and be an ally to them the best way i could be — despite the area i live in barely having the resources to actually learn about anything other than christianity i still pushed to learn ,, yet that effort isn’t equal and it’s clear to see . it’s saddening .

[kookiewithluv]

TEASER

• TITLE: Under The Blue Sky (Tangled In Love And Destiny Series)

• PAIRING: CEO!Yoongi x Accountant!Reader

• GENRE: Romance, Grumpy X sunshine, CEO au, fluff (?), love at first sight

• WORD COUNT: 5k+

• TRIGGER WARNING: This story explores themes of love at first sight, identity concealment, and the clash of personalities between two contrasting characters. It delves into the complexities of their budding relationship as they navigate misunderstandings and attraction. The narrative includes mature content, including explicit scenes and sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.

• SUMMARY: Yoongi, the grumpy CEO, never believed in love at first sight—until he saw you on a rainy street. He kept his identity hidden, but when you moves in next door, things start to get complicated. Your sunshine personality clashes beneath the surface, sparks fly. Can your sunshine essence melt his cold heart, or will both of your differences will drive you apart?

• a/n: This story is entirely a work of fiction and is the sole property of @kookiewithluv . The characters, events, and scenarios depicted are products of the imagination and are not intended to represent or reflect real-life situations, nor do I wish for anything portrayed here to occur in reality. I kindly ask that my work not be copied, translated, or reposted as your own on this or any other platform, including YouTube. Please respect the effort and originality behind this piece. Thank you for your understanding and support.

a/n: I'm not tagging anyone here since it’s just a little teaser, but don’t worry if you’re on the taglist—I’ll definitely tag you when UBS1 is ready to go (which shouldn’t take too long… hopefully 🙈). Thanks for being patient with me, you’re the best!

MASTERLIST

You slouched back on your couch, the exhaustion from yesterday’s move still weighing on your bones, but there was a sense of satisfaction that kept you from fully collapsing. Your eyes swept over the apartment—every box was finally unpacked, every corner now arranged to your liking. As tiring as it had been, the sight of your new home made it all feel worth it. You let out a long, relieved breath and let your head fall back against the couch, closing your eyes. A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corners of your lips. The scent of room freshener—lilies and jasmine—clung to the air, soothing your senses as the cool breeze from the balcony slipped through the open door, brushing against your bare arms. A shiver danced down your spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps, but it only made you smile more, the chill somehow comforting.

It was strange, though, sitting here in this quiet space, feeling the weight of everything that had brought you back to Seoul after so many years. The city had a familiar coldness to it, something that you had once known and yet felt so distant now. Eight years in Busan, away from the hustle and memories of this place, and now you were back. It all felt like a dream, an impossible twist in the story of your life. But life was nothing if not unexpected. You had learned that lesson early—how everything could change in an instant, how things could shift and crumble, and how the paths you thought you were meant to take often led you somewhere completely different.

A bitter chuckle escaped your lips, but it was hollow. The memories you carried with you felt heavy, like weights tied to your chest, and the loneliness that had crept into your life felt more pronounced now that you were here, in this new chapter. It was funny, you thought—how at one point, your life had been full. Full of people, of laughter, of noise. And then, somewhere along the way, you lost that. You lost them. You lost pieces of yourself too, chasing after things you thought you wanted, only to find that when you caught them, they weren’t what you needed. And those things you lost, those connections, those moments... you would never get them back. Only regrets remained, settling into the quiet corners of your mind.

But that was life, right? You had so many regrets, so many things you wished you had done differently, but you were still here, still smiling, still breathing. Because it was life. And life didn’t care if you understood it or not. You had learned that much over the years.

A soft, rueful sigh left your lips, your eyes fluttering open as you stared at the ceiling. A memory crossed your mind, one that had stayed with you: "It's all in your head. Control it before it controls you." A piece of advice from someone who meant well, but who could never understand what it felt like to be stuck in the chaos of your own thoughts. Young you had thought it was profound. Wise. But now, now you understood it in a way that had nothing to do with wisdom. It was a struggle. The battle between your mind and your emotions, between wanting to control it all and knowing that you couldn’t.

The clock on the wall ticked steadily, its hands creeping closer to eight. Then, a sudden ding-dong of the doorbell sliced through the silence, jolting you from your thoughts. You blinked, disoriented, a frown pulling at your brows. “Who could it be...?” The words escaped your lips in a whisper, the confusion lingering as you glanced at your phone, only to toss it back onto the couch, your focus now entirely on the door.

You got to your feet, the motion slow, almost hesitant, as if your body hadn’t fully caught up to the change in pace. With deliberate steps, you made your way toward the door. Standing before the door, you paused for just a second, your hand hovering over the handle before you unlocked it. Just enough to peek your head out.

And there, standing on the other side, was a sight that left your heart skipping a beat. A man, impeccably dressed in a tuxedo, his hair styled with effortless precision. A stray lock fell across his forehead.

He looked... familiar. But not in the way you could place him, more in a way that tugged at the edges of your memory, like a faint echo of something. You frowned slightly, brows furrowing as you tried to remember where you’d seen him before. But you couldn’t quite grasp it. How could you forget a face like that?

He was stunning—his features sharp yet gentle, his lips full and soft. There was a youthful roundness to his face that made him look so effortlessly cute, and something about his presence made your chest tighten. His smile—oh, that smile—was a slow, knowing curve of his lips, and suddenly, you felt the urge to reach out, to pinch his cheeks, as ridiculous as that thought was. It was as if his smile held the power to disarm you completely, leaving your heart fluttering like it was caught in a soft breeze.

You stood frozen for a moment, unsure of what to say or do, just staring up at him as your stomach twisted into knots.

"Hi!" he whispered, his voice soft. He gave a small, playful bow, his movements smooth. His eyes sparkled with a mix of curiosity and amusement, and his lips curled into a smile that was warm, disarming.

You blinked, still taken aback, and pulled the door open fully, your own response a little stiff as you bowed your head in return. Your hands hung by your sides, awkward, unsure of what to do next. You gave a small nod, the movement barely noticeable. It was more instinct than anything else.

"You live here?" he asked, his words filled with a strange mixture of confidence and confusion. It wasn’t the kind of confusion that showed doubt, but more like he was piecing something together in his mind. It was almost like a game to him, the way his brows furrowed playfully.

You nodded again, not trusting your voice just yet. His gaze was intense, but in a way that made you want to stay just a moment longer. His smile widened, slow and deliberate, like he was letting it spread across his face just for you to see.

"You need something?" You finally managed, your words polite, but your posture tense. It was hard not to be wary. Men, you thought. You knew better. They were nothing but trouble, a lesson you had learned the hardest way. The memories of it still lingered in your chest like an old bruise.

He tilted his head slightly, the smile never faltering. "Oh! Actually, you must have ordered food, right?" His voice was light, almost playful, yet his words felt oddly innocent. He didn’t seem like a creep, nor did he look like a delivery guy. He looked... out of place in a way that didn’t sit right with you.

You nodded, still unsure of how this was going to play out. You gave him another once-over, a little more deliberate this time. From head to toe, he was wrapped in luxury—designer clothes that probably cost more than your rent. You couldn’t even name half the brands, but you could tell from the sharp cut of his suit and the way he carried himself that he wasn’t some lowly delivery guy.

There was no way. No way in hell. Not a chance. He couldn’t be. Not in a billion years.

"And?" You prompted, still trying to piece together what was happening.

"Oh! Yeah. Yeah," he started, his words tumbling out quickly, almost like he couldn’t catch his breath. "Actually, the delivery guy dropped your order at my friend’s place. I was about to open it, but fortunately, I checked the bill attach to it and saw the address." He handed you the paper bag with a slight flick of his wrist.

You were so distracted by his presence, by the way his smile tugged at his lips and the gleam in his eyes, that you didn’t even notice the bag in his hand at first. You stood there, your fingers instinctively clutching the handle of the bag. A sudden rush of awareness hit you, and you looked back up at him, a sense of confusion swirling in your chest.

"Thank you...," you muttered, still trying to gather your thoughts, but your words trailed off when he interrupted, a touch of offense in his tone.

"Jimin," he corrected quickly, his brow furrowing slightly, a blush creeping up his neck. His lips curled into a playful, almost teasing smile, as though he found the whole situation amusing. "Jimin Park.”

The name hit you like a cold splash of water. Your eyes widened in shock as recognition struck you hard. Jimin Park. Of course. How could you not have known? He was everywhere—the notorious, high-profile director of Jeon Enterprises, always plastered across the media. Whether it was for business deals, lavish parties, or rumors about his playboy lifestyle, he was a constant figure in the spotlight.

You straightened up, an automatic sign of respect. "Thank you, Mr. Park." The words felt strange coming from your lips, like they didn’t quite belong to you. It was hard to act casual in front of someone so... big—someone you had only ever seen in the headlines.

Jimin's gaze softened, but there was still a glint of amusement in his eyes. He seemed to enjoy the moment.

"No. Please, call me Jimin," he said, his voice shifting to a softer, almost shy tone.

You raised an eyebrow, unsure how to respond, but you nodded slowly. "Okay, Jimin," you said, testing the name on your tongue. It felt casual, and for some reason, that made it all the more strange.

"Your the new tenant, right?" His voice practically bubbled with excitement, but you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. The way he was looking at you—too keen, too interested—made your skin prickle with unease. You felt your heart beat a little faster. His attention was...too much, too sudden.

"Yes...?" you replied, the uncertainty in your voice betraying the suspicion building in your chest.

"Wow! That's... something," he laughed, his grin widening, but there was a hint of something in his eyes. You weren’t sure if it was curiosity or mischief, but it made the hairs on your neck stand up.

"What you mean?" you asked, tilting your head slightly, trying to make sense of his words.

"Nothing, really! It’s just that this flat has been vacant for years now." Jimin's tone was light, but there was an undercurrent of something deeper. He seemed to be enjoying the effect his words had on you.

Your brow furrowed. "Why? It’s a good one. It even has a pretty view from the balcony," you said, trying to defend your decision. The apartment was beautiful, a perfect little corner in the city. You couldn't understand why someone would leave it empty for so long.

Jimin’s smile faltered, and his eyes dropped for a moment as if he was weighing his next words carefully. Then, his gaze flicked back up to meet yours, a hint of something dark flickering behind his grin. "No, you got it all wrong," he said, voice lowering just a bit. "Actually, it was instructed not to let anyone stay here. So...”

The words hit you like a cold shock, a wave of disbelief crashing over you. You blinked, mouth dry, unable to fully process what he was saying. "What?" The word came out too sharp, too confused. "Why would they do that?”

He shrugged casually, but the tension in his shoulders gave away that this was something more serious. "How would I know? I just do." The casualness didn’t match the weight of his words, and it made your stomach churn. Was he just trying to mess with you? Or was there something more? His easy smile didn’t help ease the growing knot in your chest.

You narrowed your eyes at him, your lips pressing into a tight line. "How do you know?" you asked, your voice low. Your gaze locked onto his, silently daring him to give you some ridiculous explanation.

He leaned in slightly, his smile not faltering, but there was something else now—a slight glint of pride, maybe? "What do you mean? I’m friends with the person who instructed it.”

You scoffed, disbelief dancing in your eyes as you raised an eyebrow. "Who is he?”

"Who else, woman. Min Yoongi, the CEO of Min Corporation.The owner of this freaking building.”

Your breath hitched. Now this conversation was spiraling into territory you hadn’t expected. A nervous laugh bubbled up in your throat, but you swallowed it down quickly. The name Min Yoongi struck you like a bolt. The CEO of one of the most powerful corporations in the country? This was getting ridiculous.

You knew about Min Yoongi. Everyone did. He wasn’t just a person; he was a name, a reputation. No one ever really saw him, though. He stayed out of the spotlight, almost like a ghost. Starting your new job at Min Corporations, it only made sense to know a little about the CEO. Not that you’d gone digging or anything—there wasn’t much to find. He was private, almost obsessively so.

Despite your gut telling you to shut the door and walk away, you stayed rooted to the spot. Your mind screamed for you to let go, but your curiosity was louder. Tomorrow would be your first day at Min Corporation, and you were curious, even though you shouldn't. You could almost taste curiosity in the back of your tongue.

"Why?" you asked before you could stop yourself, the words slipping out before you could think. Shit, you cursed internally. You never knew when to keep quiet.

Jimin’s eyes sparkled with... Something, you couldn't quite place, his lips curving into a grin. "I don’t know," he said, tilting his head slightly, his voice suddenly softer, more gentle. "But I asked him to shift here once, and he told me he loathes noise... and I’m noisy." He chuckled at the last part, his fingers twitching at his side, almost like he was waiting for your response. "Am I?"

You bit back a smile, the words "Yeah, you do seem noisy" on the tip of your tongue, but you swallowed them. He was fun to talk to, and you couldn’t deny it. It had been a while since someone had made you laugh, and it was oddly comforting.

"Jimin-ah" Before you could respond, a deep, calm voice cut through the air, and you froze mid-thought. Jimin’s smile faltered slightly as he turned to face the source of the voice. You followed his gaze, and when your eyes met the man standing at the end of the hall, your breath hitched.

"I swear," Jimin continued, shaking his head as if he was reminiscing about something. "That guy has serious issues. You need to be careful around him."

It’s him.

"Suga, hyung," Jimin greeted, his voice soft, almost in reverence. Suga. The name rolled through your mind, oddly familiar yet strangely comforting, like something you’d always liked without realizing it, and you recognized him instantly. The man standing there was none other than the person who had helped you two days ago—when you were a mess, crying in the rain at that bus stop.

You swallowed hard, your heartbeat picking up speed. It felt like fate had thrown this moment at you, but it wasn’t without its sting. You remembered every second of that breakdown. The humiliation of crying on a street corner, in front of a stranger, no less. And yet, there he was again, but this time, he seemed... Different.

Why wasn’t he looking at you?

Your stomach twisted in discomfort. It wasn’t like you expected him to remember you, but he—of all people—had been there when you were falling apart, and yet, his gaze didn’t meet yours.

It had only been two days.

His attention was fully on Jimin, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment. His eyes narrowed slightly, lips pressing into a firm line. “I told you to wait for me, Jimin-ah,” he said, his voice low and controlled, but there was a trace of irritation under the surface.

Jimin simply waved it off with a dismissive gesture, clearly unbothered. “I was. You’re late,” he said with an air of nonchalance, but his expression shifted to something as he added, “And why are you scolding me?”

Yoongi’s jaw tightened, his fingers tapping against the side of his leg, as though trying to hold his patience. "I told you to wait." His eyes flicked briefly toward you, but quickly away, as if it was an afterthought. The tension in his shoulders, however, told you something more. Anxiety? Was he anxious about something? Was he… waiting for something?

Jimin, still unfazed, pointed to the paper bag with a lazy grin. “I was just handing her this,” he said casually, nodding toward you. “Somebody delivered it at your place, hyung.”

Yoongi didn’t say a word after that. He simply nodded, a sharp, cold motion, before he turned on his heel, starting to drag Jimin toward the apartment next to yours. The air around you felt tense, heavy, almost suffocating. You were still standing there, unable to process the coldness that had overtaken him.

But before they could get too far, Jimin stopped, yanking his arm away from Yoongi with an exaggerated grunt. He turned back to you, flashing that same teasingly sweet smile. “It’s him," Jimin said, a playful glint in his eyes. "Your neighbour and the C—”

“I know him,” you interrupted quickly, your words tumbling out almost desperately.

But Jimin’s eyes widened, surprise crossing his face for just a fraction of a second before he turned to look at Yoongi with a slow, subtle smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Yoongi, however, was already shaking his head, his jaw clenched tight, his eyes not meeting yours. His voice, when it came, was sharp and final, the words cutting through the air like ice. “No,” he said, the simple word leaving no room for any further discussion.

Your heart skipped a beat at his tone. You hadn’t expected it—this abrupt, dismissive coldness. What happened to the guy who helped me? The memory of him offering you his coat, in that rainy street, his voice so soft and understanding, felt like a distant dream now. This Yoongi was nothing like the one you had met two days ago.

You took a step forward, wanting to hold on to the memory of that moment, desperate to remind him. “What?” you asked, the words slipping out before you could stop them. You were shocked, and you couldn’t mask it. “We met. Don’t you remember? Saturday evening—”

“I said I. Do. Not,” Yoongi interrupted, his voice colder than before, each word heavy with finality. His eyes still didn’t meet yours, and his posture was stiff, rigid. The tension between you was unbearable, like an invisible wall had been built between you two in the span of seconds.

Your face burned. The pink on your cheeks deepened with humiliation, your heart sinking. Why was he lying? Why was he denying it so harshly? You tried to hold it together, but your hands trembled at your sides, your breath catching in your throat. Why was he being like this?

How could he be the same person?

The disappointment hit you like a physical blow, and you felt your shoulders sag slightly, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. Your gaze shifted to the ground as your fingers clenched tightly around the paper bag in your hand.

Jimin, who had been standing there quietly, watching the exchange unfold, must have noticed how your face fell. He took a step toward you. He could see it, too—the change in Yoongi. And maybe, just maybe, he could sense your discomfort, but he didn’t know how to fix it.

“It’s okay if he don’t remember,” Jimin said, trying to break the tension, but his words barely landed. His voice, though soft, couldn’t lift the heaviness settling in your chest. “I’ll introduce you both. He’s your neighbor and the C—”

“Building manager,” Yoongi interrupted sharply, his words slicing through the air like a cold wind. His tone left no room for argument. He didn’t even look at you as he spoke, his eyes fixed on Jimin, his hand already gripping his arm with surprising force.

Jimin’s mouth hung open for a moment, clearly caught off guard by Yoongi’s sudden shift. He blinked rapidly, as though trying to process what he’d just heard. “Building manager?” His voice came out more as a question than a statement. His eyebrows shot up, and his mouth snapped shut with a soft click, as if he was trying to hold back the flood of disbelief.

Yoongi didn’t answer him. Instead, he pulled Jimin by the arm, his grip tightening as he dragged him toward the apartment beside yours. The muscles in Yoongi’s jaw flexed as he moved with a strange urgency, his face set in a hard line.

The door slammed shut behind them with a loud thud, the sound echoing in your ears like a final punctuation mark to the whole exchange. The force of it seemed to shake the air around you, the finality of it stinging more than you expected.

You were left standing there, frozen, staring at the now-closed door. Your heart still pounded in your chest, the hurt and confusion twisting inside you like a knot you couldn’t untangle. Building manager?

a/n: Hey, hey, hey, people! Did you survive it? Did you actually like it? Because if you did, please let me know—boost my fragile ego. And if you didn’t, that’s fine too; just rip me apart gently. Feedback makes me feel like a real writer or at least someone pretending to be one. Honestly, I don’t think it was that interesting, but hey, the goal was to post something, right? So yeah, hit me with your thoughts. I'm all ears (and slightly terrified)!

a/n: I know, I know, a lot of you are probably like, ‘Jae, what the hell? Why didn’t he just tell her he’s the CEO? What’s with the secret identity? And why is he so rude?’ Look, I get it. All I can say is: UBS1 is coming soon, so read it and find out. Also, he’s not rude, okay? He’s just... scared Jimin might spill the beans about him being the CEO. That’s it.

[lumillsie]

ೃ⁀➷ all my life. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

jon snow x f!arryn!reader headcanons

╰┈➤ in which lady catelyn's niece is brought to winterfell as a ward, and grows to care for her misliked stepson.

a/n : I put jon's birth year as 283 ac, whereas in the show he was born in 281ac - so I struggled a bit on which to choose, but ultimately 283ac suited my outline for the story a bit better. the characters are still aged up as per their show versions. I've also aged down robin arryn, implying that both jon and reader would be in their adolescence during his birth, whereas in the source material, jon is only a few years older than robin.

massive, massive shoutout to @angelseraphines for being my greatest support as always, and I'm not sure if I would've gone ahead and published this if not for her encouragement 🩷

╰┈➤ in 285ac, lord jon arryn and his lady wife lysa welcomed the first of their living children.

╰┈➤ you were a beautiful babe, bright-eyed with a lovely smile, truly the apple of the hand's eye. lord arryn had been married three times in his lifetime, and you were the first of his children to live to term. the graying man was enamored with your newborn-self, and he wished for nothing but your safety and joy.

╰┈➤ for all his love for you, the hand of the king knew how venomous the environment of the royal court to be. the halls were dripping with the schemes of those who wished to advance their positions, and a man of his position knew that the only living child, let alone a girl, of his would be treated as no more than a tool of the court's most cunning.

╰┈➤ your father wished to see you happy and contented, and he wished to keep you safe from the treachery of red keep. and so, on the eve of your sixth nameday, your father wrote to the boy he once fostered in the vale, now a lord paramount in his own right. eddard stark was possibly the only man jon arryn trusted to the same extent he trusted his grace, the king. it was a difficult decision to make, but he was acting in your best interests. life at winterfell would suit his little falcon better, for you would grow strong and you'd be well-looked after. you'd be far away from the glances of power-hungry, lecherous men who wished for nothing but power. you would be with family as well, as the lady catelyn was your mother's only sister - and her children your closest blood. it was a great honour in westeros, to be trusted with the upbringing of one's child, and it was an honour lord arryn would bestow upon lord stark.

╰┈➤ lysa was resistant to the idea of sending away her only living child - the years of losing babe after babe had taken their toll on her, but she eventually relented. you would be safer in winterfell, and catelyn was still her sister - for all the distance between them.

╰┈➤ mere days after lord stark accepted your father's offer, you were sent to winterfell as a ward with a kiss on the forehead from your mother and an unusually tight hug from your father.

╰┈➤ the first couple of weeks were rough - for you were often coddled by your parents. you missed tugging on your mother's skirts and resting in your father's arms. you weren't used to the absence of them, and while you tried not to cause trouble for your caretakers - they could tell you had a hard time adjusting.

╰┈➤ there were two people in winterfell whose presence brought you comfort during that trying time. the first was your aunt, lady catelyn stark, your mother's only sister. you knew little else of winterfell, but you were comforted by the familiar shade of auburn that cascaded down her shoulders and the unique cadence to her voice that could only be ascribed to a woman born of riverrun. she wasn't your mother, but she was the closest to her anyone could get. she sung you lullabies only your mother knew, and the gentle manner in which she treated you was that of a mother towards her child. the second was the boy named after your father, jon snow. you latched onto him early on in your stay in winterfell, and nobody was quite sure as to why. perhaps it was for his name, for you often called for him - at first you were calling for your father, but jon always answered. he was two years your senior and still a boy unsure of his place in his own home - for all the love of his father and the acceptance of his siblings was matched evenly with pointed looks and whispers of bastardy, as well as lady catelyn's cold distance and her decision to ignore his existence the best he could. some would say that it was your insistence on seeking him out that helped reassure the dark-haired boy of his place. of all the nobles and commonfolk at winterfell, you gravitated towards him.

╰┈➤ at first you were content to spend your time with him in silence, and he never appeared opposed to that. within a few weeks, you were talking to him about your life back in the crownlands. you talked about your mother, and her watchful, protecting eyes that seemed to follow you everywhere. you talked about your father, and his insistence on making time for your regardless of how pertinent his responsibilities may have been at any given point. you talked about the king too, and his tales of the valour and glory he experienced side by side with jon's own father. he spoke to you too, of how lovely his father and siblings were, of winterfell's hidden gems and it's most well-known attractions. he promised to take you to the weirwood tree in the godswood when the opportunity arose, and he followed through on his promise. jon snow had become, aside for the lady catelyn whom you'd grown to love as you loved your mother, your dearest person.

╰┈➤ your aunt catelyn was not fond of your budding friendship with the reminder of her husband's indiscretion - that much was plain to see by the harsh manner in which her brows furrowed and frown of her lips, and yet she made no move to disallow it. she could see that his presence helped you get used to your new home, and soon enough you were playing with sansa, teaching arya and bran how to say your name and often fetching robb to speak with him on the way to break your fast. it pleased to see your aunt to see you and her own children bond so quickly, and she kept her dissatisfaction of your bond with jon to herself.

╰┈➤ jon was there for many of the major moments of your life, with the most notable being the first letter you'd written your parents. you had just started learning how to read in the red keep, but lord stark made sure to place you with septa mordane alongside his daughters and he kept an eye on you to make sure your education was advancing. not to mention, lord and lady stark were adamant in ensuring that you remained in touch with your parents - making sure you became literate was the most important factor in that. early on, you would ask jon to re-read your letters before you were to show them to lord stark, and your friend was always glad to do it. the faint red hue that enveloped his cheeks as he read the parts where you mentioned him to your father went unnoticed by you, too focused on making sure that your letter was presentable to lord eddard.

╰┈➤ you remained close through your childhood and closer into adolescence, but it wasn't until one fateful evening that somebody changed between the two of you.

╰┈➤ the letter you received from your parents was unlike any other you had received in the past. the words seemed to swirl on the yellowed paper, and you could feel a headache in coming. your mother had given birth to a son - a proper heir to the vale. you should have felt happy, overjoyed even. a part of you, unfortunately, felt overwhelmed by misery and you could not quite understand why. you were content in winterfell, loved even - and you knew you were never to be heir to begin with, for you were a daughter and your father had plenty of nephews to choose from. so, why did you feel so unhappy? you couldn't quite figure it out, at least not until you spoke to the one person who understood why you felt the way you did, even when you yourself could not.

╰┈➤ you'd skipped supper in favor of spending the evening by the godswood, and truthfully, you expected aunt catelyn to send robb to retrieve you when it was due time for you to return to your chambers. instead, you were surprised to see that jon came for you instead. as you rose from beneath the weirwood tree, red leaves giving way to a darkened sky, you walked side by side with jon towards the great keep. he spoke to you quietly then, of things you never dared ask and he never dared to say outloud. he spoke to you of the mystery of his mother, of wanting to know who she was and if she had wanted him, of wanting to know what kind of person she was. it was only then that the truth of your misery dawned on you. you wished to truly know your parents, and your brother - but you never truly could. for all the letters in the world cannot bring you the closeness of having your family near. robin would know your parents in the ways that you never would, and they would know him in ways that they never knew you. it was a bitter pill to swallow, but you felt as if you could breathe easier - with the realisation clear in your mind.

╰┈➤ you were grateful to jon as well, for his vulnerability with you and for his kindness. you thanked him for walking you back to your chambers, and left a chaste peck on his cheek before retreating. "I am grateful... for you, and all that you are" were the words you spoke to him. a silent acknowledgement hung in the air between the two of you. he was still your dearest friend, and you were his - but something had changed. the way in which you regarded one another had changed.

╰┈➤ it was as if the wall that you two had carefully placed between yourselves had found itself with holes in it. you were still careful, chaste even - but it was apparent to those around you that you two loved eachother. you'd make handkerchiefs for him in your embroidery classes and he'd gently hold onto your hand in the privacy of the godswood.

╰┈➤ none were truly aware of the extent of your affections for one-another, for you were both aware of your positions. you were a noble-man's daughter, entrusted in the care of jon's father who was meant to find you a suitable match and marry you off well. you were considered a bride for theon greyjoy or willas tyrell, but not jon. not a baseborn son of your noble caretaker, with no titles to his name and no inheritance to claim. furthermore, were you to rebel and marry jon without anyone's knowledge - you would soil not only the reputations of your fathers, but the goodwill and bond they shared, for lord arryn entrusted lord stark with your upbringing.

╰┈➤ you two grew closer over the following year, and it was apparent to both of you that you would not have the time to properly court one another before pursuing a way to convince your fathers to allow marriage. you were a woman grown, of marrying age. not to mention, you were lord arryn's only daughter, and a marriage to you was the most effective manner in which a noble house could strengthen its ties to the vale. lord and lady stark, with minor interference from your parents, were close to making their decision - and your aunt made sure to consult you often in subtle manners, asking whether you'd prefer to remain in winterfell when you marry, asking if you'd like to return to the red keep once you are to have a family of your own. you could not avoid your fates any longer.

╰┈➤ you pondered over what to do for a couple of days, but you knew you had no time to wait. without informing jon, you decided to plea your case to your aunt catelyn - the person you'd always felt closest to in winterfell, from the day you arrived to the present. you knew of her mislike for jon, there wasn't a singular person in winterfell who wasn't aware of it - and yet, during all these years, she hadn't said a word to you of your closeness. you asked for an audience with her in the evening, and you told her everything as you sat with your hands in hers atop the fur carpets by the roar of the fire. you confided in her about how precious jon had always been to you, of how you felt the evening of robin's birth and of how you had love for jon in a way a lady should only have love for her husband. your eyes glistened with unshed tears as you spoke to her of how you feared a betrothal, as you didn't think you could bare being married to anyone else. she listened to you as you spoke. when you finished, she leaned down to give you a kiss on the forehead and exited the room. you never got an answer from her.

╰┈➤ lady catelyn's heart ached from the weight of what she had to do. she resented jon, but she could never truly hate him as a person. she feared what his existence, and the way he looked, may mean for her own children but she could never begrudge you for befriending him. this, however, could be disastrous for all of you - and she needed to put a stop to it. she sought jon out the following morning, before it was time for the family to break their fast. she warned him of what his involvement with you could do to your reputation, and of how marrying him would cause you to lose all that you were born with. a woman has little choice in this world but to marry well, and your singular status as lord arryn's only daughter provided you with a privilege not many women could afford - a privilege you would lose were you to marry him. she urged him to put distance between the two of you, if he cared for you as you claimed he did. it was the first time she'd really acknowledged him, and her words stung - perhaps nearly as deep as her resentment and distance once did.

╰┈➤ you were unaware of the fact that this conversation had even taken place to begin with, and jon's insistence on ignoring you came as a shock. you couldn't tell what you had done wrong and you were unsure of how to reason with him.

╰┈➤ it wasn't easy for him to keep his distance from you either, but he took lady catelyn's words to heart. he truly believed that if he kept his distance from you, then you would have an easier time accepting a potential betrothal - as you were always meant to do. now that he was at a distance from you, he was free to confide in robb - and he found comfort in his brother. it was difficult, keeping his feelings from the man he trusted most to begin with and robb's brotherly teasing, as well as his unspoken understanding helped him cope with his decision. for a time at least.

╰┈➤ this tense situation and the distance between you was broken by the most tragic news of your life - your father and the hand of the king, lord jon arryn, had passed away. in addition to your grief, added pressure was placed upon your shoulders as the news of the royal family's impending visit to winterfell reached you. all of this proved to be too much for you, and you crumbled once again, for the first time since your arrival to the north. it was jon whom you turned to once again, and he couldn't find it in him to turn you down. he held you in his arms as you wept, and as you turned to look to him - you made the bold move you'd never dared to make. you leaned upwards and planted a kiss upon his lips, the salty taste of tears staining both of you. he gave in for a split second, before pulling away - remembering lady catelyn's words. "I intend to promise myself to the night's watch. I've already made my father aware of my decision" he confessed to you, his tone gentle yet final. it was then that you asked him why, your voice on the brink of shattering. he spoke to you of his conversation with lady catelyn, and of the steps he took to make sure your reputation wasn't soiled - of the steps he took to make sure you could still have a good life.

╰┈➤ you left him wordlessly then, anger coursing through every inch of your body. you were angry for a multitude of reason - at your father, for sending you to winterfell to begin with. at the world, for taking your father from you before you'd had the chance to see him once more. at your aunt catelyn and jon, for making decisions that concerned you without even thinking to consult you.

╰┈➤ you withdrew to yourself, simply going through the motions as you prepared for the king and his family to arrive at winterfell. you felt no joy at the prospect of seeing him once again, and the thought of his visit served as nothing more than a reminder that you were truly never going to see your father again. you were courteous but curt in all your exchanges, but you exchanged nothing more than pleasantries with all those around you. jon tried to speak with you often, to ensure that you two weren't going to go your separate ways on such poor terms - but he was unsuccessful. you had switched places, with you now ignoring his attempts to speak with you as he had done weeks before.

╰┈➤ the issues between you two and your pointed attempts to ignore him are once again put on hold with all the madness that follows the royal family's visit - bran's accident, your mother's letter to catelyn and the king's offer to lord stark all become topics much more pertinent than jon's upcoming departure and your potential betrothals, and the two of you settle into a peaceful coexistence within the last few days of his stay at winterfell. in truth, as you came to accept your father's death and the unfortunate fate that befell bran, you came to the conclusion that the short time you had with one another was a precious thing, not to be wasted - and you sought him out often, just as you once did.

╰┈➤ the morning he was set to leave for the night's watch, you rose early in the hour of the nightingale- and you sought him out. you walked to the godswood once more, your arm brushing against his. "I believe that I have loved you all my life. I believe that I will love you for the rest of it" you admitted to him as he reached out to grasp your hands in his, a sad smile making its way across your face. "I have loved you all my life, and I will love you for the rest of it" he vowed to you as he leaned down to press his final, gentle kiss upon your lips. you needn't have spoken words of forgiveness or talked much of anything else. you were overcome with a melancholic contentedness in that very moment. jon left his home with his uncle benjen within the next few hours, but he left his heart in winterfell with you.

╰┈➤ that very same evening, you wept in your aunt catelyn's arms. her kiss upon your forehead felt the same as your mother's on the day you last saw her - on the day you left your home behind.

a/n : and that's where I think I'm going to end this! if I ever feel like it, I may revisit jon and arryn!reader later down the line - perhaps with a quick rewrite of season and a happier ending than I gave them here. the original version of this fic is still in my drafts, but I legitimately hated the pacing and the dynamic between jon and reader felt rushed so I rewrote the whole thing - I'm still not fully happy with it, but I much prefer this version and I'm more comfortable publishing it. I hope you enjoy reading this, and please be sure to leave some constructive criticism as I do think there are some parts here that I think can be improved. please do forgive me if the pacing feels slightly off, I struggled quite a bit with this prompt and I legitimately could not write this fic a third time nor expand on it more to try and make it more sensible.

as always, I'm tagging several different characters to help get the post out to as many people as possible, but I do write for all of the characters tagged below so please feel free to request something for them.

[xserpx]

morse for the ask game?

How I feel about this character?

(Caveating this with the fact I haven't yet watched Inspector Morse, so this is only about Endeavour.)

Normally I'm not at all a fan of whump and I don't like feeling sad for well-meaning characters who are hurt repeatedly through (mostly) no fault of their own, but I really love Morse's brand of melancholia. The way he struggles to deal with change is too damn real, I'm a sucker for characters who struggle to voice their feelings and whose anxiety causes them to say nothing, because bitch me too. I also like that he's shy but it's kind of a selective shyness? Like if you catch him at the right moment or say a certain thing, he can be very snappish and outspoken and even funny, but then in those (incredibly important!) moments where he feels truly vulnerable, he just clams up, and it's heartbreaking and delicious to watch.

It's also undeniable that he is a massive prick sometimes. His treatment of women, his pretentiousness, there are moments when I want to slap him upside the head and I'm like you deserve this shit buddy! Monica my beloved, she deserved so much better from him. As much as he craves deeper connections with people and as much as I really want him to find a place to belong and settle down, it's so clear why he can't, why he shouldn't, and it's so deep rooted that in a way if he actually made a more concerted to change and do better he'd pretty much be a different person. And I like that the show never compromises on providing answers or catharsis for his struggles. Change happens, that's life, and there's often no way to deal with it that doesn't hurt.

I also love his dark academia style and the way it's grounded in finding meaning/belonging. It's not that it doesn't give him a sense of superiority at times, but like... that was his rebellion in the face of anti-intellectualism and abuse at home, and in a way I feel like he's earned the right to that pretentiousness. I think it dilutes some of the intimidating effect that opera and classics and poetry can have - some people listen to the Beatles, he listens to Wagner, one thing isn't "better" than another - but without binning it off entirely so that we still get to enjoy the commentary on classism. Plus watching him school the Oxford dons is always fun :P.

All the people I ship romantically with this character?

Romantically, hmm... The trouble is I end up feeling sorry for either Morse himself or whatever woman he's got his eye on at the time!

I love Joan and Morse, and I'd love for them to work things out, but the more time passes the less and less suited they seem to be. It's one of those relationships that's more about yearning than it is about getting together. They struggle to communicate and they're constantly miserable. He puts her on a pedestal because of her family, and Joan likes him because he's an enigma, and they can't move past that. But at the same time, fanfic exists for a reason, and I still love the yearning despite it all.

I'm not sure if I ship it romantically per se, but Max is another one where I feel like they could be more than friends, they're very Sherlock and Watson (and this fic by gaytobymeres is so good I love it). That scene with Morse and Max having tea in Max's garden is one of my favourites in the series, and I want that life for Morse so badly! Literalllyyy at the end of Exeunt I was like dude just move in with Max!! He'll never leave Oxford! He'll come along to your choral recitals! You have way more interests in common than any of your girlfriends have thus far! And he's lonely too, bless him ;w;.

My non-romantic OTP for this character?

I don't think there's a single character I don't ship Morse with platonically?? All I want in the world is a pub quiz fic featuring all of Cowley CID (and Trewlove) but I'm not clever or patient enough to write it. I wish we had more teamwork episodes tbh, and I think that's the best thing about seasons 5 & 6 (as dissipated as CID is at the start, that just makes them coming back together all the more heartwarming).

Morse & Thursday are of course the freaking bedrock of the show, they're just insanely good and I genuinely want them to be together forever. As much as he misses Joan at the end, I really want a happy ending where Thursday and Morse can stay together. At the same time, what with the whole men in the 60s reinforcing one another's emotional repression, I kind of wonder what would've happened if Thursday had been able to steer Morse in a different direction, and if it would have had a knock-on effect with helping Morse express his feelings for Joan and maybe end up somewhere better. But their characters are so intertwined it's hard to separate out the what-ifs. I do think Thursday had more of an impact on Morse than Morse did on Thursday, but you could maybe chalk that up to age. Leopards don't change their spots, etc. Still... lamenting lost potential is what grief is.

I'm also a huge fan of Morse & Trewlove tbh, he's so relaxed around her?? He tells her stuff he never tells anyone else?? They fake marry?? Ridiculously sweet. They share the trait of being incredibly dedicated and detailed in their work, and it bleeds over into a genuine appreciation for one another that they don't really have with any of their other colleagues (save for maybe Trewlove & Bright, another fantastic platonic OTP in my book). I also can see them being friends w bennies but I def don't ship them romantically.

My unpopular opinion about this character?

Not sure if I have one tbh. I haven't been here long but I generally think the wider fandom has it right about most things. Maybe not including Jakes as some brand of OTP? I feel bad because I love Peter, I just don't see him and Morse being particular friends any more than Morse and Jim are tbh.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

Um, happiness. Just, all the happiness. I wish he could communicate better. I wish he'd had a better childhood. I wish his house hadn't been burgled and that he could still listen to Rosalind Calloway without taking emotional damage. I wish he hadn't been beaten down and that he could feel secure and safe, and have a fulfilled life outside of work. Great tragedies always keep the happy ending in sight, and Endeavour does that incredibly, painfully, well.

If I had to choose something specific to have happened in the show, I guess I would have liked to see more of Joyce. I'm fascinated by their relationship and I really loved every cameo from Morse's past that we saw, plus episodes like Cartouche with cousin Carol. Tbf I have heard that Joyce shows up more in Inspector Morse, so... 👀

[voxmilia]

Oh Sklonda's righteous fury hits so hard, as a kid who WAS taken advantage of in many ways by her friends when she was in school, and whose mom tried to tell her they were being unkind and who didn't believe her until she got kinder friends

[sludgeguzzler]

therapy is going to be a struggle bc i just know that as soon as i mention The Divorce the therapist will try to trace all my problems back to The Divorce and to be completely honest with you, i dont think ive ever had a specific problem with my parents not being together anymore (i kinda knew itd happen eventually) and i feel like my issues come more from the aftermath than from the event itself

[loderlied]

posting on here is like my sisyphean boulder i'm constantly rolling tbh

[laketoriver]

Daymn, allegedly according to tumbkr i have posted 100 times. Wowie. Too bad they’re all liars and owe me big money (i’m too serious)

not even lying which is the worst part. Anyway it’s late have a “poster” of my “blog au” which “technically” “exists” and uh “yeah”. It exists but like i haven’t posted anything i might one day if i figure out how to format it but idk if y’all would like smthn like that lmk.. Au blogs steal my heart you guys are cuties

[kabutone]

like not to sound like some edgy piece of shit but that is also why horror is like such a breath of fresh air to me lmao like in almost all the horror media i've seen

[fionnaskyborn]

I meant to actually properly color and render this piece, but I greatly underestimated just how much time THAT takes for someone like me, who absolutely cannot use any digital drawing tool without a disproportionate amount of time and effort. I still count a simple unpolished sketch as better than nothing, though, so, without further ado...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JOHNNY!!!!!!!!!!

(Opening the image gets rid of the Tumblr compression blur, so please do that in order to see this piece in all of its glory ;w;)

[drunk-poets-society]

The thought of going to college is filling me with immense despair and I’m half thinking of dropping out

[bluepriestess]

I just wanted to take a moment to let everyone know how grateful I am to have you all in my life, be you a mutual, a friend, follower, lurker, etc. It certainly has been a year filled with ups and downs but I do not regret any moment of happiness that I felt ♥️

I hope everyone has a good holiday/weekend :)

[fingertipsmp3]

So basically I’ve had one of those mornings that makes you want to scream into a pillow. And this afternoon I have a meeting lol