#key city brewing

[thedaily-beer]

Key City Brewing Death on Two Legs Double IPA (Picked up at Corner Market in Hattiesburg, MS). A 3 of 4. A really nice and bright IPA with mostly orange citrus in the nose and some pine/resin behind it. A pretty classic West Coast profile and quite a nicely balanced body with a lot of fruity and grain sweetness up front and a firm, clean bitterness in the finish.

[cailinsblog]

Autumn in Monaco- lando norris

Lando Norris x reader

Please repost

Masterlist

The air in Monaco had taken on that familiar crispness, signaling the arrival of fall, even in this glamorous coastal city. The leaves on the trees lining the quiet streets had turned shades of amber, gold, and deep crimson, creating a picturesque scene against the azure backdrop of the Mediterranean. It was the perfect morning for a cozy coffee date, and that’s exactly what you and Lando Norris had planned.

Lando, your boyfriend and Formula 1 driver, was often busy with races, media events, and training, but today was one of those rare, slower days. You both had decided to take a stroll through the quieter parts of Monaco and grab coffee at a little café nestled away from the bustling center. It was your special spot—the one you loved for its charm, its warm atmosphere, and the way the barista always seemed to remember your order. Plus, the sight of fallen leaves dancing along the cobbled streets made everything feel like a scene from a romantic movie.

“Ready to go?” Lando asked, standing by the front door of your shared apartment, dressed in a casual hoodie and jeans, looking effortlessly handsome. His car keys dangled from his hand, but you shook your head with a smile.

“I was thinking we could walk,” you suggested, adjusting your cozy scarf. “It’s such a beautiful day out.”

Lando grinned, that playful sparkle in his eyes. “Walking it is, then. Let’s make the most of this perfect fall weather.”

As you stepped outside, the cool air nipped at your cheeks, but it wasn’t unpleasant. The sun was shining, casting a golden glow over the colorful leaves that blanketed the ground. Lando took your hand as you started down the street, his fingers warm against yours. You couldn’t help but smile at the simplicity of it all—the two of you, together, with no rush and no interruptions.

Monaco had a different energy during the off-season, quieter and more peaceful, and you loved moments like this when you could just enjoy each other’s company without the constant hum of the racing world. As you walked, you pointed out the vibrant leaves and the way they crunched underfoot, laughing as Lando kicked a small pile, sending them swirling in the air.

“I think fall is my favorite season,” you mused as you looked around. “It’s just so cozy.”

Lando chuckled softly. “Yeah, but you say that about every season. You love summer when we’re at the beach, and winter when we’re by the fire.”

You laughed, nudging him playfully. “Okay, fine. But can’t I love all the seasons?”

He smiled, squeezing your hand. “You can love whatever you want. Just as long as I get to be there with you.”

The walk to the café was serene, the sounds of the city muted by the quiet streets and the soft rustling of the leaves. As you turned a corner, the small café came into view. It was a charming little place with ivy crawling up its stone façade and a few wooden tables outside, though they were empty today because of the chill in the air. Inside, the warm glow from the windows beckoned, promising the smell of fresh pastries and the sound of gentle conversation.

Lando held the door open for you as you stepped inside, the bell above the door chiming softly. The familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, and the cozy warmth immediately made you feel at home. The café was quiet this morning, just a few locals reading newspapers or working on laptops, and your usual table by the window was free.

You both settled in, and Lando went to the counter to order your drinks. You watched him from your seat, your heart swelling with affection as he flashed his charming smile at the barista, engaging in a light conversation like he always did. Even in the simplest moments, Lando had this way of making everything feel special.

A few minutes later, he returned with two steaming cups of coffee—yours with a touch of cinnamon, just the way you liked it, and his plain and strong. He set them down on the table with a flourish, as if he were presenting the most luxurious drinks in all of Monaco.

“Voilà, mademoiselle,” he teased, his British accent a bit exaggerated as he sat down across from you.

“Merci, monsieur,” you replied with a laugh, taking the warm cup in your hands and feeling the heat seep through your fingers.

You both sat there, sipping your coffee and watching the world go by outside the window. The leaves continued to fall, swirling in the gentle breeze, and you couldn’t help but feel like this was the perfect moment. The kind of moment that made you pause and appreciate how lucky you were to have someone like Lando in your life.

“This is nice,” Lando said after a while, his voice soft. “I feel like we don’t get enough of this.”

You nodded, meeting his gaze. His brown eyes were warm and filled with the same contentment you felt. “Yeah, I love these quiet mornings with you.”

He reached across the table, taking your hand in his again. “I know it’s hard with how busy things can get sometimes, but I really love doing normal things with you. Like this.”

Your heart fluttered at his words. “Me too, Lando. It’s the little moments that make everything else worth it.”

He smiled, a genuine, soft smile that melted you completely. “You always know exactly what to say.”

The two of you spent the next hour chatting about everything and nothing—about his upcoming races, about the plans you had for the rest of the fall season, and about how much you were both looking forward to the holidays. Every now and then, Lando would make a joke, or you’d laugh about some old memory, and it felt like time had slowed down, giving you both the chance to simply enjoy being together.

Eventually, as the sun dipped lower in the sky and the café began to fill with more people, you both decided it was time to head home. Lando insisted on paying, of course, and after saying goodbye to the barista, you stepped back out into the cool afternoon air.

As you walked hand in hand back through the quiet streets, the soft crunch of leaves underfoot, you couldn’t help but feel incredibly lucky. Being with Lando, sharing these simple moments, was everything you could have ever hoped for.

Back at the apartment, the warmth enveloped you once again, and as you settled onto the couch, Lando pulled you close, wrapping his arm around you. Outside, the autumn leaves continued to fall, painting the world in golden hues, but inside, everything felt just right.

“Thank you for today,” you whispered, resting your head on his shoulder.

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Thank you for always being my favorite part of it.”

And in that moment, wrapped in his arms, with the world quiet and peaceful outside, you knew that these little moments, shared with Lando, were what made life so beautiful.

[keisins]

gojo satoru x reader. fwb!au. angst to comfort/fluff

kind of a sequel to this

You’ve been ghosted.

To be fair, you had kind of expected this. Key work: kind of. You try to not let your heart constrict itself into an organ of loathe, depression and hatred for the past 3 weeks.

Unfortunately, the agony still sits on your granite kitchen counter three weeks later. It’s in the box of his stuff he had the nerve to leave behind, along with all the thread-like semblance of hope you had for your future together. (How foolish of you, really.)

The kitchen itself, however, is empty. The living room you’re standing in — also empty. Your family and friends who came to help you move your stuff to your new apartment left a few minutes ago. They’re on their way there first to pick up some food before all of you move more heavy boxes into the place. And you’re grateful.

Grateful that you have people in your life that don’t ghost you, even if you can count them on a hand. People that care. That are consistent in your life. That aren’t curse-bound.

God, you hated him for the first week. Hated how even though you tried to make his habitual appearances not a part of your routine, you find yourself missing the white hair that tickles your neck when you search for a fresh set of pajamas, the clingy hands that harbor not-so-innocent touches as you put on skin care, and even sometimes, in the morning when you didn’t have the heart to kick him out the last night, the most amateur brewing of coffee you’ve ever had because who needs coffee when you have Gojo Satoru to keep you energized.

You shake your head to rid your thoughts. You take a deep breath in, ready to say goodbye to the place, goodbye to the memories, ready to let the box be discarded away just like he has done to you.

And just as you almost let go, you feel it.

You feel him. You don’t turn. You can’t. Because it cannot be real. You know what’s real and it’s not tender kisses and hands intertwined, it’s a job in a new city, in a new position. Life is not Gojo Satoru, it’s a new apartment.

Yet, there in your old apartment, you come to life upon hearing his voice.

“I see you’ve changed the place.”

His joke comes soft and light, as if to not scare you. Because he has to know that you are livid. He keeps his distance. Though, everything in Satoru is compelled to hold you. He thinks your name must be carved into his bones, with the way it urges his joints to reach for you, always always drawn to you.

You still haven’t turned. Still in shock, because this has to be a hallucination. Some sick joke from the universe, maybe. He calls your name, but before he can close his mouth, you turn around and ask harshly, “What are you doing here?”

Tears are already brimming at your eyes. You find yourself looking at him for the first time in a long time and it makes your heart ache. You could hear him out, but there is something in you that doesn’t want to. You had been raised with impatient needs, always in a rush to satisfy the ones who claimed to love you. Love is patient, love is kind, and you want it so bad to not be love.

A moment of silence passes by as Gojo bores into you, until his heart caves and takes a big step toward you, tests the water by taking your hand in his.

And you cry, weakly shrugging away, before he’s pulling you into the warmest embrace of your life.

“I’m sorry.” He catches sight of the box on the counter and can only guess what it could be. He’s been so selfish with his love for you, that he had forgotten about the treachery that so greatly tries to seep through his infinity. Gojo hadn’t accounted for it, didn’t ever in his life think he could feel afford to be humbled. But, as he stands there with you falling apart in his arms, he feels intimidated. “I’m so sorry.”

“I hate you.” Are you okay? How have you been? Where did you go? He hums softly, still caging you with his arms. You dare to ask, because to love is to be vulnerable, “Where were you?”

He holds you tighter, his eyes threatening to drop some tears of their own. He laughs and you can hear how watery it is when he tells you, “A box.”

You pull away, brows furrowed as you look up at him. He wipes away a falling tear on your cheek before pulling you into him again, desperate for you to not see him cry.

“I’ll explain later… Just let me hold you right now.”

[galedekarios]

meta master list

BALDUR'S GATE 3

early access content & cut content

i'm strong enough. i'll carry on alone - a meta about gale's strength of character

i cherish you - a look into gale's ea romance

gale & curing the orb - what the game had originally planned for gale

cut reactions & dialogues - 23 cut conversations from ea

the loss scene - major cut scene from ea

the deer stew scene - major cut scene from ea

gale's three tadpole dreams - cut content from ea

gale's condition & how artefacts worked - cut content from ea

the tiefling party - part 1 - cut content from ea

gale's key art

unused gale's scene / datamined cut scene found in the game's full release files

tara's cut content for companion gale

gale centric

gale & his parents - morena & his father

the netherese orb - consequences for gale's magic

gale & physical ailments caused by the orb

the nautiloid - where was he & where did he see the protag

gale - where was he kidnapped? ( 1 )

gale & yartar, the city attacked by mindflayers - where was he kidnapped? ( 2)

gale's love language - acts of service

gale's arcane hunger and its consequences

the missed potential of orin kidnapping gale

gale & masking - tell me more about yourself

epilogue - class specific skills gale learns from his s/o

to know you love me for the man that i am, not the magic i command... none have loved me so purely before - a closer look at gale & his relationship with the protag

gale & his love for his friends

gale's youth & time spent before the game's events

gale as professor at blackstaff academy

gale as a born sorcerer with a wizard's education

epilogue - gale, raphael, elminster and mystra

last night alive / act 2 romance scene cinematic notes

last night alive / act 2 romance scene devnotes

the drow twins scene

gale's scars - ea & full release

what do you need? - the red thread through gale's greetings

when is gale's birthday?

references in gale's banter on selection

evil ending devnotes

relationships with companions & npcs

gale & elminster - mentor, friend & paternal figure

gale & elminster - an addition

minsc & gale - a meta about their relationship with each other

karlach & gale - a meta about the relationship between the two

gale & karlach - epilogue specific lines

what was i after all but a mortal plaything in sacred hands? - parallels between gale and shadowheart

gale & withers - epilogue specific lines

gale & the ash, the magma mephit

gale & lae'zel

gale & family

gale & morena

gale & tara - general dialogue

tara being protective of gale

gale & tara - epilogue banter

gale & tara - epilogue ambient banter

tara & her little love

tara can speak common but doesn't want to

tara likes to snoop through gale's things

dialogue collection of tara & gale

items

gale's epilogue outfit - items decriptions & analysis

god!gale's outfit - items details & analysis

gale's animation vs standard wizard animation - a comparison

the chosen's earring - idle champions item descriptions

tara in idle champions - item decriptions

armillary sphere - coliar, karpri, anadia

gale's companion icon

the epilogue room

piano playing

waterdeep

waterdeep's splendours - what makes waterdeep special

waterdeep's festivities and celebrations

ahghairon's lost nose - who was ahghairon?

gale, waterdeep & coinage - a meta about waterdeep's coins and gale's wealth

manycats alley & a hc

wedding traditions in waterdeep - the wedding band

waterdhavians and their way of life - class & station, character & temperament, other races, smalltalk

doth thy mirror crack - ambient dialogue & waterdhavian saying

waterdeep after the game ends - trouble is brewing

the hospice st laupsenn & gale's stay there

waterdeep's wards

part 1: dock ward

part 2: castle ward

shorts

gale & home

the finer things in life

until we wake again, my love

scent - tim downie's hcs

colours associated with gale - tim downie's hcs

gale's themes - tim downie's hcs

epilogue - bookworm gale sneaking into various libraries & book shops

epilogue - epilogue description of professor vs god ending

epilogue - new hobbies

a look at gale's lifespan with an elven partner

quiet is not always peace

romance epilogue details - a closer look at outfits outfits & animations

idle animations - a closer look

DRAGON AGE: THE VEILGUARD

musing on the companions' rooms

down among the dead men: a closer look at emmrich's short story in tevinter nights

emmrich's vows & vengeance episode

emmrich & audric felhausen - a look at tevinters nights & da4

emmrich & flowers - meta and headcanon

emmrich & regret - a look at what happens after the argument with rook

emmrich & lichdom

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Man 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

A few days pass as the humiliation of your big lesson clings in the air. You think about it too much. Enough that you find yourself cringing to yourself on your bike ride home or even when lying in bed. You’ve never been the most socially adept so the encounter leaves you reeling.

As you help Bre with opening, you feel your heartbeat pick up once more. You need to chase the elephant from the room. You puff out and wet your lips as you glance over at her. She measures out grinds into the silver machine as her eyes pinpoint on the task.

“Um, so, Bre,” you approach her warily with a fresh sleeve of cups, “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Mm,” she grumbles groggily. She’s on her second coffee already and she only just got there twenty minutes ago.

“So, um, that guy, from the other day,” you rub your boiling neck, “with the mustache. You said he’s the boss. So he owns this place?”

She scoffs and rolls her eyes as she shuts the lid of the machine and turns the silver dial on the front. She shakes her head as the machine starts to brew and she plants her hand on the counter in front of it. She faces you, her other hand going to her hip.

“Mr. Hansen? Lloyd. Hansen.” She enunciates as if you should know the name.

Your lips downturn and you shrug, “is that his name?”

“Are you new in town?” She asks hotly.

You nod, “yeah, actually. I used to live about forty minutes out of town but there was nothing there--”

“It shows,” she retorts, “he owns this shop, he owns the street outside, he owns me, he owns you. He owns this city. Got it?”

You hum and nod as you look thoughtfully to the ceiling, “not really. But he’s important, got it.”

“Just if he comes back in, come get me and say as little as you can. And please, for the love of god, do not ask him for money,” she snips.

“Oh, alright,” you deflate, “I didn’t know--”

“Now you do. Just trust me when I tell you, you don’t want to fuck around with him. If he tells you to pour boiling water on yourself, you’re better off just doing it,” she sneers.

You wince, “okay, sorry, Bre, I was just asking.”

“You ask too many questions,” she turns and goes into the backroom. She returns, dangling a keyring from her finger, “open up. It’s time.”

You take the key and go to unlock the door and flip on the sign. You retreat back behind the counter, swallowed up by the tension between you. You regret asking. You thought it might help clear the air but now you can barely breathe.

When the first customer enters, you volunteer to help them. Bre just mutters and slurps from her coffee. She might have less of a headache if she takes it easy on the caffeine. You don’t say as much to her, nothing really at all as you work through order after order.

She hops onto prep as you man the till while the queue grows. The morning rush is in full effect as you slide baked goods into little paper sleeves and hand them over before sending customers down to the window to wait for their drinks. The hectic flow helps you forget about the awkward start.

When at last the crowd trickles down and the cafe hums with voices sitting at the tables, you have a moment to catch your breath and center yourself. You like this job, it’s just like your last one, but the company isn’t as pleasant. Bre taps her thumb on her phone screen and ignores you.

The ebbs come with hide tides and soon lunch has you scrambling once more. The smell of toasted bread and cinnamon has your stomach grumbling. You’re too busy to let the emptiness bother you for long. When high noon influx subsides, Bre yawns.

“Lunch,” she announces, “I’m going to head down to Tabitha’s. They’re having a clearance sale.”

“Oh, alright,” you agree, not mentioning that she said earlier you could go first, “I’ll be here.”

She doesn’t respond as she disappears into the back to get her things. You hear her leave through the side door that leads through to the alley. You sigh out and watch the sit-in customers on their laptops or chatting with friends.

You resist the temptation of the tarts staring at you from the display. You can hold out until it’s your turn. The door jingles and a new customer enters. You’re too fixated on the painting of a latte to glance over. Not until you sense the sudden shift in the air. Several people quiet and pack up to go.

Footfalls scuff across the floor and customers leave their unfinished drinks on the table as they hurry for the door. You peer around then at the approaching shadow. It’s him. Oh no. Bre isn’t here.

“Um, hello, Mr. Hensen,” you smile shakily, “how are you?”

He stares at you as he comes to stand across the till from you. His blue eyes darken as he lets a long exhale out through his nose. You gulp and your cheeks tremble. He tilts his head and arches a brow.

“Hansen,” he corrects.

“Right, Floyd Hansen, I remember--”

“Lloyd,” he hits his fist on the counter and you gasp. “Lloyd fucking Hansen.” He leans forward and bares his teeth, “get that through that thick fucking skull.” He reaches for you, grabbing the front of your shirt, “you won’t forget who I am.”

“I’m s-sorry, I’m bad with names--”

“Shut up,” he twists the fabric until it strains against the back of your neck, “if you weren’t so goddamn pathetic, I’d drag you across this counter.”

Your eyes round and you bat your lashes. He’s only an inch away from you. You shiver as he opens his hand and presses the vee of his index and thumb to your throat. You’re frozen, terrified. Who is this man?

“Get me my fucking coffee,” he squeezes then shoves you so you choke.

You stumble back and bring your hand to your neck. You nod, eyes glittering with unspent tears, and look around. You can’t remember what he ordered. You’ll just have to make something up. Or maybe you could just sneak out like Bre...

[starlight-incarnate]

House of Feänor as Aesthetics:

Fëanor  —  loud voice, commanding presence, analytical, natural leader, piercing eyes, foggy hillsides, black boots, tipping their head back to breathe the air, mirrored lakes and everything below the surface, tearing leaves from trees, blunt sarcasm, long dark hair, deep sleeper, rotting tree stumps, black leather jacket, songs that makes you want to create a storm, rebellious, ambition, unstoppable passion, fast trains, polaroids, empty castles.

Maedhros — walking silently, stronger due to all the stuff meant to kill them, ignoring their mental health issues, fiery red hair, crumbling marble, oversized hoodies, raw voice, lingering touches, faint music in the distance, calming down from a panic attack, long heavy cloaks, cold hands, disillusioned with the world, insomnia, unhealthy habits, sighs made visible by cold night air, strong hugs, never sleeps, loud music, freckles, dark under-eyes.

Maglor — hypnotising smiles, a broken mind, melancholy, driving through mountains and the woods, iced coffee, the faint feeling of raindrops on your cheeks, ripped jeans, tight hugs, whispered compliments, deep conversations, late night texts, nimble hands, thin blades, white lilies, vertigo, unkept journals, lightning and thunder, rhythms so raw the heartbreak is showing, shattered glass, walking alone on a cold night, silver necklaces, regret.

Celegorm — bright eyes, climbing rock formations, cold-hearted, hard breathing after running, wood cabins, gladiator arenas, wicked smiles, twisted branches, wild hair, growing more and more dangerous, night drives, adrenaline rushes, bruises, bloody cloaks, running from society, breathless laughing, that animalistic unpredictability, silver and leather bracelets, strong coffee after a sleepless night, city lights from a high rise, addiction, barking dogs, hurricanes.

Caranthir — ironic smirks, bitten nails painted black, lightning in summer, empty threats, sunglasses hiding dead eyes, thick chain jewellery, temperamental, goes to car races just to watch the crashes, deep glares, tongue/lip piercings, midnight walks, lightbulbs burning out, diamonds, crushed ice, a glint of cat eyes in the dark, gold coins in storm drains, cold hands, storm clouds rolling in, theatres, suppressed emotions, wrought iron gates, motorcycles. 

Curufin — cherries and Diet Coke, white marble, a studio apartment on the 67th floor, tattoos, neon lights, sweetened coffee, smudged makeup, too-loud music, cursive notes written in red ink, veiny forearms, sharp canines, fresh snowfall, high rise buildings, white light, sheer robes with nothing underneath, fog, stained glass windows, colourful hair, slow heartbeats, long-forgotten love, cold mountaintops, eternal silence.

Amrod — burnished copper, feverish eyes, hues of orange and gold, stars and spades, brewing tea, freckles, hardwood floors, poisonous flowers, listens to Hozier, messy hair, fake circle glasses, bullet point notes on a restaurant napkin, comfortable silence, broken wings on insects, old hungers, the whispering of trees, kicking stones on deserted paths, forgotten places, origami stars, old overgrown stone castles, morning mist, horse riding.

Amras  —  misplaced keys, wandering aimlessly, selectively mute, deep lakes hiding secrets, pine trees, restless nights, misunderstood, reliving the same day over and over again, graphic tees, dead moths, visual mind, muffled screams into a pillow, listens to asmr, doc martens, profanity, burned cigarettes, zoning out often, heart fluttering nervously, confusing satellites for stars, comic filled bookshelves, radios, old jeeps, glowing keyboards.

Celebrimbor — ravens, white-hot metal, the darkest shade of black, glittering skin, low waist pants, stars falling, the heat lingering in the evening, petals falling off dead flowers, trusting the wrong people, blue veins, cobblestone paths, linoleum tiles, bruises/scars easily, the heat lingering in the evening, cities awake late, card games, overanalysing everything, shiny fabrics, the slamming of a shot glass, the sting of betrayal.

[write-or-run]

Danny Phantom in YJ but its ALL of team phantom

so this idea assumes DP is set in the DC verse and Danny's identity is revealed to the town during Reign Storm. His parents accept him like in the series finale, and the town, grateful for being saved from Pariah Dark, has an unspoken rule not to sell out Danny's secret identity to outsiders (mainly the GIW).

All the Amity Park vigilantes are working together at this point, but the public dosent really know it. Now that they're no longer hunting their son's alter ego the Fenton parents continue doing their thing, but now they make gear specifically for their ghost son to use without it backfiring on him (mostly). Jazz gets some of the ghosts to do interviews and eventually branches out into ghost psychology, something that her parents had neglected to study before now.

Danny, Sam, and Tucker continue ghost wrangling, but the supervision of the Fentons proves to be surprisingly helpful and the trio finds that they have more time to pursue other things (space, eco-witchcraft, and tech respectively). Tucker and Sam's parents are on the fence about their friendship with Danny. Angela and Maurice Foley are talked down from their worries after Tucker points out that the dangerous ghost stuff will happen regardless, so he might as well have the local vigilante on speed dial. Jeremy and Pamela Manson are harder to convince. They're used to having to pick their battles when it comes to Sam's goth, ultra recyclo vegetarian lifestyle, but on this they're not budging. They try to restrict Sam's contact with her friends and even go so far as to get a restraining order. Sam is increasingly fed up with their controlling behavior and, inspired by the Infi-Map, Sam breaks into the ghost zone in search of an artifact that would give her power so that she would never be trapped. Obviously Danny goes in after her, but then Sam's parents storm the Fenton house to take back their daughter and accidentally fall into the ghost portal, so Tucker takes the Specter Speeder and goes in after them. By the time the Fenton Parents return home everyone is back and the Manson's have given in to Sam's determination.

Valerie Gray initially continues to operate on her own. She maintains a frenemy status with Team Phantom due to her mixed feelings on Danny's civilian and ghostly personas, between that and the revelation of Vlad's villainous career Valerie's worldview is really shaken. She throws herself into vigilantism and hers dad gets really concerned when Valerie starts running herself ragged. In a last ditch effort to make her stop Damon Grey goes to the towns ghost hunting experts and begs them for an intervention. The Fenton parents agree and the three of them sit down with her for a talk about safe ghost hunting practices. This fails to stop her, but the Fentons refuse to give up on the 'Junior Ghost Hunter' and start inviting themselves on her patrols .Things come to a head when Dark Danny travels back in time to ensure his creation. Seeing how desperate Danny is to avoid becoming evil, and fighting alongside the Fentons convinces Valerie that its okay to count on others and slow down and take care of herself. (and also the Fentons are low-key inescapable)

Pariah Dark's incursion through Amity Park was the last straw needed for the Infinity Realms to start really breaking into reality. There was already some leakage (see lazarus pits) but this was the last straw for a problem that has been brewing for thousands of years now. Life in Amity Park continues normally, because to them ghost stuff is normal, but for the rest of the world its a different matter.

The Justice League is going around dealing with the sudden influx of supernatural nonsense. The ghost attacks range from minor nuisance to city-wide threat. The magic leaugers are trying to find the source, but it's Batman who identifies Amity Park as 'Ground Zero' for ghostly nonsense.

also something something Amanda Waller and the GIW either team up or become rivals.

I'm literally writing this while waiting to board my flight so I'll try and flesh out this AU later

[tsumuus]

meet cutes | karasuno

a/n so random and not proof read at all. also photographer tsukishima..? idk just seemed like a cute idea lol

characters shoyo hinata, tobio kageyama, kei tsukishima, tadashi yamaguchi

masterlist

shoyo hinata

The bustling city streets were a blur of colors and sounds as you hurried to your next appointment. The air was crisp, a gentle breeze carrying the scent of autumn leaves. Turning a corner, you nearly collided with a vibrant blur of orange hair and infectious energy.

Shoyo Hinata, was out for a jog, his bright smile lighting up the gray morning. His laughter echoed as you both stumbled back, a small leaf fluttering down from your hair. His eyes sparkled with recognition and curiosity, a brief moment of connection in the midst of the city’s chaos.

Without a word, he handed you a stray leaf that had landed on his shoulder, the corners of his mouth quirking up in a silent apology. Your heart fluttered as you watched him jog away, a sudden warmth blooming in your chest.

tobio kageyama

The coffee shop was warm and inviting, a refuge from the chilly winter air outside. You stood in line, the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloping you like a comforting blanket. As you reached the counter, a familiar figure in a dark coat caught your eye.

Tobio Kageyama, was intently studying the menu, his brow furrowed in concentration. The barista handed him a cup just as he turned, and the collision was inevitable. Coffee spilled, a sharp intake of breath, and then the warmth of his gaze as he apologized, handing you a stack of napkins.

His intense blue eyes met yours, a flicker of recognition passing between you. With a shy smile, he offered to buy you another coffee, the simple gesture filling the small café with an unexpected brightness.

kei tsukishima

The quiet hum of the aquarium surrounded you, the soft blue glow of the tanks casting a serene ambiance. You meandered through the exhibits, captivated by the graceful movements of sea creatures. Stopping in front of the jellyfish display, you watched the delicate creatures drift in their ethereal dance.

Next to you, a tall figure adjusted his camera, the soft click of the shutter breaking the silence. Kei Tsukishima, an avid photographer, glanced at you briefly, his expression unreadable. He focused back on the jellyfish, capturing their fluid motions with practiced ease.

Intrigued, you stole glances at his work, admiring the way he captured the essence of the moment. Sensing your interest, Tsukishima turned the camera towards you, offering a rare, small smile. The aquarium's blue light reflected in his glasses, creating an almost otherworldly effect.

Without a word, he showed you the photo he had taken- a perfect shot of the jellyfish, with your awed expression mirrored in the glass. The quiet understanding and shared appreciation for the beauty around you forged an unspoken bond, leaving you with a sense of connection that lingered long after you parted ways.

tadashi yamaguchi

The small bookstore was a haven of warmth and tranquility, the scent of old books mingling with fresh coffee from the attached café. You browsed the shelves, fingers tracing the spines of well-worn novels. A book caught your eye, but as you reached for it, another hand brushed against yours.

Tadashi Yamaguchi, stood beside you, his shy smile lighting up his freckled face. The moment was fleeting, but his gentle presence lingered as he handed you the book with a quiet apology. His green eyes held a hint of recognition, a shared memory from years past.

As he turned to leave, a bookmark fell from his pocket, and you picked it up, the small gesture filling the bookstore with a sense of serendipity. His quiet thank you and the warmth of his smile left an indelible mark on your heart.

[theresattrpgforthat]

Do you have any recommendations for TTRPGs where Body Horror is a central theme or mechanic? Preferably ones where themes like loss of agency or control over one's body are the focus. Thank you!!

THEME: Body Horror (Part 2!)

Hello there, I’m going to start by providing a link to the Body Horror recommendation post I put up back in 2022, before I move on to new recommendations!

Mutant Monster Machine Girls, by babblegumsam.

In MUTANT MONSTER MACHINE GIRLS, you play as a member of "The Girls", a group of queer misfits fighting against an oppressive anarcho-capitalist state ruled by The Corporation. 

Each of you fights against them because all your lives have been ruined by The Man Responsible, a dangerous and cruel servant of The Corporation. Because of his actions and the nature of your evolutions, you can no longer return to your previous lives and the people you love.

Your only solution? Exact your ultraviolent revenge on him and bring peace to the city by force!

The Mutant part of Mutant Monster Machine Girls is pretty heavy on the body horror, although I think the other character options certainly have possibilities. Babblegumsam has a fondness for weaving trauma and emotion into many of their works, so you’ll likely find a lot of feelings about exploration and loss in this one. The game system uses a modified PbtA system, which gives you tokens that you can spend to add modifiers to your roll. (This same mechanic can be found in Apocalypse Keys!)

Soul Burner, by World Champ Game Co.

Soul Burner is a standalone tabletop role-playing game of adventuring ashen corpses wandering a volcanic ghostland in service of the gods of fate, protecting the timeline from imminent disaster by manifesting fractured memories to shape the world to their will.

Compatible with Mork Borg and inspired by Necronautilus, this game acts as a bridge between worlds of violent dark fantasy and stoner metal science fantasy.

Soul Burner embeds body horror both into the characters you play and the creatures you come across, using MORK BORG rules and depicting your characters as merely remnants of who they used to be. You will find creatures overgrown by fungi, desperate cannibals, and lava-worshipping cultists in this book, evoking a grim and gritty fantasy setting. Your own characters are ever-changing, morphing and distorting whenever you gain a Reminder - pieces of who you are that give you mechanical advantages in the game.

FLËSHMØG, by Freak Flag Games.

FLËSHMØG: THE FLESH BEGINS TO EXERT ITS WILL UPON ITSELF

mäw of hëck: flëshmøg is a pen & paper body horror character creator. draw your hand, discover your body, and mutate your form.

This isn’t so much a game as it is a character-creation exercise. Using a deck of playing cards, you assemble cards as you randomly draw them to give yourself body parts, strengths, and adaptations according to the world around you. This might be an interesting exercise if you want to come up with a wretched home-brew character for MORK BORG, or if you want to design some kind of horror to pit against your players in another game.

Do Not Fear: In Death We Bloom, by Hella Big Claws.

Do Not Fear is a Forged In the Dark Tabletop Roleplaying game, about accepting the fleetingness of life; and using the strength that gives you in order to combat a growing stagnation.

Fight as a Hunter, a person who has been given a Gift of Bloom; a fungus like infection that allows for incredible strength and regenerative ability; in exchange for subsuming your flesh as you die.

Combat or save the Rusted; living creatures infected by a growing viral stagnation; marbling their bones and rusting their flesh; sculpting them into horrifyingly beautiful creations. Ascend the Tower; a large, multilayered structure which you call home. Interact with the factions and people within, as you set down roots.

As a fungus-infested person, the characters for Do Not Fear feel like prime candidates for body horror. Your characters have accepted that their fate will likely end in death, but only because they must if they are to save the world from a horrible plague. The game is built off of the same system as Blades in the Dark, but I think there’s been some tweaks here and there, because there are teasers to creatures and weapons that indicate hit-points and stats. The character abilities however, look really powerful and exciting. If you are a fan of Bloodborne, Hunter X Hunter, or Technoir, you might like this game.

Mutagenic Hive Swarm, by Atelier Hwei.

Waking up as a transdimensional insectoid reptilian has never been more fun!You are a stone age psychonaut apparently occupying the body of a Transdimensional Insectoid Reptile, a bug.

But who you were is less important than where you are: you must navigate the bloody, alien meatscape of the MUTAGENIC HIVE SWARM and find a way back to the Here & Now… before memories of who or what you fade completely.

Mutagenic Hive Swarm is all about playing bugs who are not really bugs - your characters have found themselves in the bodies of alien creatures, and will need to fight in order to hold onto their sense of self. Much of your character’s skills and effort will be directed towards trying to resist certain influences and changes, so I think the theme of loss of agency really shines through in this game. What you might really like is the d20 table of mutations that can threaten you every time your body changes. If you want a game where your character is more likely going to succumb to their changes than find a way out, you might want to check out Mutagenic Hive Swarm.

Other Games to Check Out

Wasted, by World Champ Game Co.

Bio-Drones & Cryo0Clones, by ChrisAir (for Mothership).

[heartsandhischier]

Rinkside Romance

nico hischier x reader

summary - 3.2k words. Y/N, an author has an unexpectant meeting with the captain of the New Jersey Devils, Nico Hischier

note - this is my first writing ever, so I hope you all like it :)

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, creating a rich symphony of scents that blended with the soft murmur of conversation that surrounded the quaint little coffee shop. The coffee machines whirred in time with the gentle hum of patrons bustling about, seeking comfort from the cold evening.

Amidst the comforting atmosphere, Y/N found herself engrossed in the world of her latest novel, her fingers dancing across the keyboard as she wove her characters through the chapter’s final paragraph. Her fingers moved swiftly, navigating the keys with practiced ease, each click punctuated by the rhythmic beat of the nearby espresso machines.

As she reached for her steaming cappuccino, her heart skipped a beat, realising the cup was empty. She hurried to the counter, her mind already lost in the world of her novel, she felt compelled to keep her creative momentum going. “Another one?” the barista questioned, his voice barely rising above the din of orders being shouted and the hissing of steam from the machines. Y/N nodded, a smile on her lips as she slid him the empy cup across the counter.

Her gaze wandered across the bustling cafe, taking in the familiar faces and comforting atmosphere that had become her haven since moving to New Jersey. But then her attention was drawn to a figure across the room – a man whose rugged charm and quiet confidence seemed to entice her.

His hand swept his dark locks out of his face, revealing warm brown eyes that sparkeled at her. Their eyes met briefly, and in that fleeting moment, it felt like a page was ripped out from one of her books. In the midst of the coffee shop’s bustle, he held her gaze, momentarily suspending time itself. It felt as if the world had quiteted down, leaving only the two of them in a shared moment of calm amidst the chaos.

“Cappuccino for Y/N!” The call of her name snapped her back to reality. Y/N collected her fresh cappuccino and thanked the barista with a nod. As she took the cup, she turned around in searchfor the stranger with the big brown eyes. To her surprise he was still there, his eyes fixed on her every move, a gentle smile playing on his lips. With a final smile, Y/N returned to her booth, unaware that fate was about to interwine.

Puck Drop and Bar Hops

A few weeks later, Y/N found herself in the midst of a bustling local sports bar, where her friend Jessica had successfully persuaded her to come out and experience the city’s vibrant energy and passion for their team. Tonight, it was a hockey match—the New Jersey Devils against the Dallas Stars. Y/N didn’t know too much about the sport but nevertheless kept her eyes glued to the screen as she struggled to keep track of the puck’s whereabouts.

No matter the extent of knowledge, or rather lack thereof. Jessica’s enthusiasm was contagious, and Y/N couldn’t help but join in as the entire bar erupted in cheers with each Devils goal. The atmosphere was electric, with glasses clinking and cheerful chants filling the air as the Devils cruised to a 5-2 win.  

“See! It wasn’t too bad getting out of your apartment to experience this, right?” Jessica chimed, a triumphant grin spreading across her face. Y/N playfully stuck her tongue out in response, joining in the laughter that bubbled between them.

“Come on! You need to get out more! Explore the city, not just your apartment and the coffee shop! Who knows, it might even give you some inspiration for your books,” Jessica continued, nudging Y/N with a playful elbow.

Jessica then leaned in closer, her voice lowered to a whisper. “You know, this bar is where the team usually goes to unwind after their games,” she explained, excitement in her eyes. “Who knows, maybe we’ll get to meet some of the players.”

Before Y/N could respond, the door swung open, causing a wave of cheers to erupt from the fans in the bar as all heads turned to face the entrance. The atmosphere crackled with excitement as a group of familiar faces made their grand entrance—the New Jersey Devils themselves. 

They were greeted with enthusiastic pats on the backs and a flurry of “Go Devils!” from the triumphant fans as they navigated through the bar, basking in the adoration of their supporters. Among them, Y/N’s gaze was immediately drawn to a pair of unmistakable brown eyes, their warmth and familiarity sparking a sudden surge of recognition within her.

Her heart raced as she watched the players move through the crowd, their presence commanding attention and admiration from everyone present. Could it truly be him? The realisation sent a thrill through her, igniting a spark of home and curiosity that she couldn't ignore.

“They’re cute right!” Jessica giggled next to her, her eyes glued to the players now standing by the bar. Y/N turned around in confusion as her friend pried her eyes away from the players ordering drinks and beers. "Y/N, you were quite literally drooling,” caught off guard, Y/N blushed hard as she attempted to regain her composure. “I, uh, I guess so,” she stammered, her gaze flickering nervously between Jessica and the group of athletes at the bar. 

Jessica leaned in closed, her continuing to eye the players. “I think Timo Meier is pretty cute,” she admitted with a playful grin. “But, oh my god, have you seen the captain? He’s also Swiss, like Timo, and he was a first-round draft pick. And those big brown eyes? Endearing as hell!” 

As the evening wore on, Jessica couldn’t help but gush about the players, pointing them out amidst the crowd. Y/N listened intently, her eyes skipping a beat as Jessica rambled on about their captain, Nico, pointing to a tall familiar figure. With a jolt of recognition, she realised that Nico, the captain Jessica had been raving about, was the same guy from the coffee shop. Her cheeks flushed with warmth as she stole a glance in Nico’s direction, her mind racing with newfound understanding.

Suddenly, a bartender approached their table, a tray of drinks in hand. “These are from one of the players,” he announced with a wink. “Lucky you!”

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise as she glanced over to the bar, spotting the hockey player with the familiar brown eyes. A rush of excitement coursed through her veins as she quietly thanked herself for agreeing to go out today. 

Emboldened by the gesture, Y/N found herself drawn to the bar, her heart pounding in her chest as she took a big swig of her drink and approached the handsome stranger. With a warm smile, she thanked Nico for the drinks, her voice steady and sure. Nico’s laughter filled the air, a melodic sound that wrapped around her like a comforting blanket. “You’re welcome,” he replied, his tone warm and inviting.

Before she could say anything else, he extended his hand with a charming grin. “I’m Nico,” he introduced himself, his eyes twinkling with amusement. Y/N felt a rush of nerves as she struggled to respond, the weight of Nico’s presence catching her off guard, and in the heat of the moment without thought she blurted out an awkward “I know,” immediately cringing at her own words. Nico’s laughter only grew louder, genuine amusement dancing in his eyes. “Well, it’s nice to meet you again, ‘I know’,” he teased gently, his easygoing demeanour putting her at ease.

Blushing furiously, Y/N couldn’t help but laugh along with him, the tension of the moment melting away in the warmth of their shared laughter. “Sorry, that probably sounded weird,” she chuckled nervously. “My friend just told me about the team and their captain, and then I realised it was you and…” you rambled on as you tried to explain yourself as the awkwardness you felt lingered. Nico shook his head, his smile widening as he interrupted your panic. “Not at all. It’s kind of cute actually,” he reassured her, his gaze warm and reassuring.

Relieved by his response, Y/N felt her nerves begin to ease. “Thanks,” she replied, a genuine smile lighting up her face. “So, uh, what brings you to the bar tonight?” she asked, eager to keep the conversation flowing.

As the evening progressed, the conversation between Y/N and Nico flowed effortlessly, punctuated by shared laughter and easy banter. Y/N occasionally glanced over at her friend Jessica, ensuring she was enjoying herself, only to find her deeply engaged in conversation with Timo Meier, the player she had pointed out earlier.

Seeing that her friend was in good hands with her newfound connection, Y/N turned her attention back to Nico. With each passing minute, she found herself drawn further into Nico’s magnetic presence. Her initial nervousness gave way to a growing sense of comfort and excitement. And as the night wore on, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this unexpected encounter was just the beginning of something truly special. 

Jersey lights and Italian Delights

The clicking of Y/N’s heels echoed across the lobby of her apartment building as she nervously adjusted her dress, the sleek black fabric hugging her curves in all the right places. She had opted for a longer dress at Jessica’s suggestion, feeling a bit out of her comfort zone in such formal attire, especially for a date. Taking a deep breath, she gathered her courage before stepping out into the cool evening air.

As she descended the steps, her heart raced with anticipation. There he was, leaning against the sleek black car, his brown hair swept back, revealing those familiar and warm brown eyes. When he spotted her, his face lit up with a smile that sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach. 

“Hey there, ‘I know’,” he greeted her, his voice filled with warmth and affection. “You look stunning!”

Y/N felt her cheeks flush at his compliment as she approached him, his arms wrapping around her waist in a comforting embrace. Meeting his gaze, she couldn’t help but smile back. “Thank you,” she replied softly, her heart racing with excitement. “Ready for our date?”

Their first date was nothing short of magical—a candlelit dinner at a cosy Italian restaurant, where time seemed to stand still as they delved into deep conversations and shared intimate stories. Amidst the flickering candlelight, Nico and Y/N’s connection only grew stronger as the night went on.

As their relationship progressed, Y/N and Nico found themselves drawn to familiar places that held special memories for them. None more so than the cosy, quaint coffee shop where they had first locked eyes. 

“One cappuccino for my favourite author!” Nico’s voice rang out cheerfully as he approached their table, bearing two steaming cups of coffee. Y/N glanced up at the brown-haired man, a smile tugging at her lips at his playful remark. Accepting the coffee, she savoured the rich aroma before taking a sip, feeling the warmth spread through her. “Well, thank you, my favourite hockey player in the NHL,” she quipped in return as he settled into the booth opposite her. Nico chuckled, a playful glint in his eyes. “Yeah, I’d better be,” he teased, reaching across the table to gently brush his fingers against hers.

Their playful banter was interrupted by the familiar sound of Y/N’s phone buzzing with a notification. It was an email about her book release event, scheduled for the following week. Excitement bubbled up inside her as she shared the news with Nico. “I’d love for you to come,” she said, her voice tinged with anticipation. “It would mean the world to me to have you there.” Nico’s response was immediate and unwavering. “Of course I’ll be there,” he said, his brown eyes filled with sincerity.

“I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

As the day of the book release event arrived, Y/N felt a mix of nerves and excitement coursing through her veins. Sitting at the table where she signed copies of her book for eager fans, her heart was fluttering with each interaction. Amidst the bustling atmosphere, she couldn’t help but notice a familiar figure in the line. It was Nico, patiently waiting with a copy of her newly released book clutched to his chest.

When Nico finally approached her table, his eyes lit up with excitement as he handed her his copy of her book. “Hey there, ‘I know’,” he greeted warmly, a grin spreading across his face. “I’ve been looking forward to getting my hands on a signed copy of this book. I’ve heard the author is amazing!”

Y/N chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through her. She signed his copy, adding a little extra flourish with a heart next to her signature.

“Well, a little special signature for my favorite fan then!”

Midnight came creeping, and the event came to a close. Y/N stood up from her seat, approaching Nico, who had been engaging with her fans and colleagues throughout the evening. She smiled at him, her heart swelling with gratitude. “Thank you for being here,” she spoke softly. “Having you by my side means more to me than you’ll ever know.”

Nico pulled her into a warm embrace, his arms wrapping around her protectively. “I’ll always be here for you,” he whispered, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. 

“No matter what.”

From Ice to Ink

Amidst the whirlwind of her book release and hectic schedule, Y/N found herself attending her first hockey game at the Prudential Center in New Jersey. Adorned in Nico’s jersey, proudly displaying the number 13 on her back, she felt a sense of pride and excitement as she entered the arena to support Nico and the New Jersey Devils as they faced off against the Nashville Predators.

Welcomed by a friendly security guard, Y/N was guided to the room reserved for the players’ wives and girlfriends, where she was warmly greeted by the other women. Engaging in conversation and camaraderie, she felt a sense of belonging among them, despite it being her first time attending a game. As the game started, Y/N found her seat alongside the other wives and girlfriends, excitement filled the air. And Y/N couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride as she watched Nico and the Devils take to the ice. 

As the game unfolded, the tension in the area was palpable. The Predators put up a strong fight, but the Devils matched them stride for stride. The score remained close throughout the game, with both teams trading goals in a back-and-forth battle. Y/N watched with bated breaths as Nico and his teammates fought tirelessly on the ice. The energy in the arena was electric, with fans on the edge of their seats as the team vied for control of the game.

The third period had the whole arena on the edge of their seats. With the score tied, the two teams fought to get the puck into their opponents goal. Chasing the puck across the ice, Nico seized a golden opportunity. As the puck soared into the back of the net, the arena exploded with cheers and applause. Amidst the jubilant roar of the crowd, Nico’s celebration was a sight to behold. With a leap of sheer exhilaration, he raised his arms triumphantly, his face radiant with joy. 

Turning towards the stands, his gaze found Y/N amidst the sea of cheering fans. A wide smile spread across his face as he blew her a kiss, a gesture filled with love and appreciation. In that moment, amidst the deafening roar of the crowd, it was as if time stood still, and their connection shone brightly for all to see. 

As the final buzzer sounded, signalling the end of the game, the scoreboard read: New Jersey Devils 4, Nashville Predators 3. The Devils had emerged victorious in a hard-fought battle, much to the delight of fans in attendance. 

After the game, Y/N waited patiently with the other women in the lounge as the players headed to the locker room. Y/N couldn’t resist checking social media for highlights of the game. To her surprise, she stumbled upon a clip of Nico’s post-game interview. “The celly you did after your goal was terrific,” the interviewer remarked. “That kiss into the crowd—was that planned? Perhaps directed at someone?”

Nico’s smile widened as he responded, “Well, it was a special moment for me. It’s actually my girlfriend’s first game here, so I just wanted to show her a little extra love.”

Watching the interview, Y/N felt a rush of emotion as Nico publicly referred to her as his girlfriend for the first time. When Nico finally emerged from the locker rooms, she couldn’t contain her excitement, rushing to greet him with a big hug and congratulations on the win and his goal.

“So, I’ve been upgraded from ‘I know’ to girlfriend now, huh?” She teased playfully.

Nico chuckled, his eyes filled with affection. With a gentle smile, he pulled away and reached into his suit pocket, retrieving something special from the night—a puck. It was inscribed with the words “Y/N’s first game” in white marker. 

“Well, it would be my pleasure if you’d want that promotion,” he replied, his gaze locked onto hers with those captivating brown eyes as he presented her the puck. 

Nico's words had her cheeks flaring, and with a surge of happiness she nodded eagerly. "I would love to be your girlfriend, Nico!"As their eyes met, he grinned and leaned in to give her a tender kiss, sealing the moment with a promise of more to come.

[perfectsunlight]

( 𝟮𝟵 ) ✏ 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗮 𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲 (𝗵𝗮𝗹𝗳-𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻)

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: none

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀: 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘃𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲

“i’m enjoying our date.” 

you teased with a smirk as minjeong finished the last few pieces of her ice cream cone. the president rolled her eyes before brushing her hands and leaning back against her hands. the two of you sat on the curb outside of the ice cream shop you had practically begged the other girl to take you to.

“we’re not on a date.”

“sure feels like one,” you shot back playfully. “i mean, ice cream after food? driving me around?”

the blonde sighed, a small smile playing on her lips despite her best efforts to remain serious. “we only got ice cream because you whined about it.”

“and you caved. i’m taking that as a win.” 

she shook her head, her expression softening as she looked up at the sky. “you’re impossible, you know that?”

“and yet, you’re still here with me,” you replied, nudging her lightly with your shoulder.

“yeah, well,” she started as she snickered. “only because of your grades. and your sister is paying me to help you.” minjeong teased back with a sly grin.

you chuckled, shaking your head. “nice try, but we both know that’s not true. my grades aren’t that bad.”

she raised an eyebrow, earning a gasp from your own lips. “hey! i’m improving, aren’t i? thanks to you.” you said with a hit on her shoulder.

minjeong shrugged nonchalantly, but there was a hint of pride in her eyes. “i guess you’re not entirely a lost cause.”

“high praise from the president herself,” you answered with a playful eye roll. you knew minjeong took her role seriously, but she didn’t see herself as some sort of monarch of the student body. however, you enjoyed poking fun at her, as always. “seriously though, i appreciate it.”

she nodded, her smile softening into something more genuine. “no problem, princess.”

“stop calling me that,” you groaned before resting your head against your chin. “it’s not funny.”

“it’s not?” the blonde chuckled with a smile. “i find it very funny.”

a comfortable silence settled between you as the evening air grew cooler. the stars above twinkled, casting a gentle glow over the city. you glanced at minjeong, her profile serene against the backdrop of the night sky.

“hey, minjeong?” you said, breaking the silence. your thoughts had been brewing for a bit and you wanted to get something off your chest.

minjeong.

she had heard you say her actual name on a small number of accounts, but it was usually accompanied with undertones of sass or groaning. you never said her name so gently before.

she liked it. a lot.

“yeah?” the president answered casually, conveying no sign of her internal feelings. she kept her gaze ahead at the street in front of the two of you. 

“thanks for tonight.” you paused after a few moments before speaking slowly. “i know you’re busy, and you didn’t have to do this because you felt bad. but thank you, really.”

minjeong turned to look at you, her eyes softening in the darkness. “you don’t have to thank me. i wanted to.”

you grinned, feeling a sense of accomplishment in getting the stone-cold president to show some emotion. however, you still decided to tease her, like usual.

your torso leaned a bit closer to minjeong, pointing a finger in the face of the blonde. “so, if it’s not a date, what is it?” 

the blonde’s face twisted into one of feigned annoyance. “i don’t know. maybe just two friends hanging out.”

“friends, huh?” you mused, watching the president pull her keys out of her pocket. “you want to be my friend, president?”

“okay, let’s get you back to your sister so she can deal with you instead.” 

you rolled your eyes as you watched minjeong rise to her feet. “fine, fine. but you didn’t answer my question. do you want to be my friend?” you asked with a small pout on your lips.

she glanced at you, a small smile tugging at her lips while she stuck her hand out to help you up. 

“maybe. if you behave.”

“oh, come on, i’m always on my best behavior,” you joked, making her roll her eyes once more. “sure you are,” she said dryly, but the corners of her mouth twitched upward.

the drive back to your family’s house was filled with the usual light-hearted banter and easy conversation. it felt natural, comfortable, and you couldn’t help but steal glances at the girl in the driver's seat, noticing the way the streetlights cast soft shadows on her face.

minjeong’s freshly dyed blonde hair looked like a halo around her face in the passing streetlights overhead. you didn’t want to admit it, but she really was nice to look at. 

you caught yourself staring and quickly looked away, hoping she hadn’t noticed. but then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw her smile.

“what?” you asked, trying to sound nonchalant. internally you thanked the darkness of night to hide the heat rising to your cheeks.

“nothing,” she replied, her smile widening. “just thinking about how quiet you suddenly got. it’s a nice change.”

your eyes narrowed before scoffing lightly and folding your arms against your chest. “don’t get used to it.”

when she pulled up in front of your house, she walked you to your front doorstep. your older sister opened the door while you quickly waved the blonde goodnight before disappearing inside.

minjeong turned to leave, but quickly stopped when she heard your sister’s voice behind her. “minjeong?”

the blonde whipped around quickly, straightening her posture and looking attentively at jennie. “yes, ma’am?” 

jennie studied her for a moment, then smiled softly. “thank you for bringing her back, i apologize for the hassle.” she reached into her pocket and pulled out an envelope and handed it towards the younger girl.

“by the way, here’s this week’s payment for the tutoring. i really appreciate everything you’re doing.”

minjeong looked at the envelope and then back at jennie, shaking her head with a smile. “you can keep it.”

jennie raised an eyebrow at the blonde before slowly moving the envelope closer to herself. “so suddenly?”

minjeong shook her head lightly, eyes still bright as her small smile. “i like hanging out with y/n. tutoring or not.”

jennie smiled, a look of respect in her eyes. “i’m glad my sister has you.” 

“me too,” minjeong replied softly. “goodnight, ma’am.”

“goodnight.” jennie answered, watching as minjeong walked back to her car. the older girl watched from the doorstep as minjeong’s bmw drove off in the distance, mentally replaying the smile her younger sister wore when she first arrived.

𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧: @silantryoo @forever-in-the-sky2 @rosiehrs @urfriendlylocalidiot @chaewonluvsme @zhivaxo @baebeefyburrito @jisooftme @winterlve @mina1vr @rgxjsss @uzumakioden @bexisbomb @tzuyuscloud @cwpiqwon @dream-chasers-things @demtions @sewiouslyz @jeindall777

@writingficsblog @ad0rechuu @lauxymy4 @awkwardtoafault @popstaryunjin @hibernatinghamster @tocupid @myothegreat @yerevies @alexxis10 @sighsam @ddeulgiheree @kikelikesmc @ddoxhan @justalittledissociation @jenaissantex @captivq @lea-pg @skisk1 @justme-idle @neuftaeng

CLOSED.

[sleepynoons]

YABA BY FUJII KAZE – umemiya hajime (wbk) x gn!reader, sfw

genre – fluff, angst word count – ~3,000 warnings – characters aged up, references to previous toxic/abusive romantic relationships, description of physical injuries, overstimulation synopsis – you and umemiya rarely fight. but a problem's been brewing for a while now, and it's finally hit its boiling point. is this the end of your relationship?

“You know you don’t have to come every day.”

A laugh follows – bright, energetic, a refreshing sound to lighten your dreary day.

“But I want to!”

Shaking your head, you hang your work bag on his outstretched arm before the two of you begin to walk away from your office.

The commute is not too long, only a few train stops and blocks away from your place. But your boyfriend, Hajime, lives in the opposite direction, so the trip back to his is always twice as long for him after he accompanies you home. It’s a very kind gesture, of course, and you appreciate getting to see his enthusiastic self more often than not, but the guilt has been gnawing at you.

You suggest, “How about you just drop me off at the platform tonight?”

Your boyfriend immediately deflates at the idea and pouts, discontent whimpers escaping his downturned lips. “I was actually going to ask you to come to my place.”

You startle at his confession. It’s always been Hajime coming over to yours that you had practically forgotten the option that you can drop him off for once.

“O-oh, yeah, sure! Sorry, Ume, I didn’t know you made plans for us!”

Delighted, Hajime shoots back up in posture and grabs you by the hand to drag you to the train station.

Throughout the train ride, he fills you in on the details of his day. Hajime works at the botanical garden near the middle of the city, and is currently on his rotation in the lush greenhouse that hosts various trees, flowers, and other flora. He tells you about a crow that somehow found its way inside, a successful cultivation of a once-dying plant, his coworker slipping in a murky puddle that led to the discovery of a broken, leaking pipe.

You think his job's very fitting. For someone as abundant with care and love as he is, it makes sense that his career reflects that vital part of himself. The few times you have stayed overnight at his place, you would wake up and catch him out of bed, already by the windows spraying water and wiping leaves, all with a contented, satisfied look on his face.

“We also got these keychains at work today!”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out two key rings, each attached with a small wooden plaque. You flip one of the plaques over to see your name engraved into the wood.

You gasp, hands flying to your cheeks. “These are so adorable!”

“Right?” He grins, pearly whites almost blinding you, and drops yours into your lap.

“Where should I hang it?” you wonder aloud. As soon as those words escape, though, you feel Hajime freeze beside you.

You glance at him. “Ume?”

Your boyfriend has never been a great liar, but from the strained look on his face, it’s more than obvious that he’s hiding something.

Bumping his shoulder, you ask again, “Hello? Earth to Umemiya Hajime?”

He whines as he says, “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“The keychains?”

“No… Something else…”

You chuckle. “You don’t have to spoil it yet, then, but you’re going to have to explain what’s going on as soon as we get to your place.”

Comically dramatic, Hajime releases a loud sigh and relaxes back in his seat before he perks right up again, rambling on about another story he overheard from work.

As soon as the two of you step out of the station, you shiver at the biting cold. It doesn’t help that the wind is strong as well, and you can only imagine how much colder and more annoying it must have been for Hajime to return home later all those nights because of you. The two of you speed to his apartment, keeping the lower halves of your faces buried in your scarves, and zoom up the stairs of the complex until the two of you finally arrive in front of his door.

The heater’s already on inside, and you shudder as you feel the icy sting at your cheeks melt away in contact with the warm, buttery temperature. Hajime matches your expression and sings happily as he toes his shoes off and drops your bag on top of the shoe rack. He then helps you unwind, unraveling your scarf around your neck and helping you slide off your heavy, wool coat, and gently folds and places them on top of your bag.

“I’ll warm up dinner, so take your time,” he says over his shoulder as he walks towards the kitchen.

You kick your shoes off and head inside his bathroom, where you take a quick breather. Not that you have an opinion on surprises or that Hajime’s unromantic – he is, very much –, but it has been a while since the last time either of you have planned anything spontaneous for the other. You wonder what it is that your boyfriend has in mind.

By the time you come out, Hajime’s already under the kotatsu, peeling a tangerine as he waits for you.

“You brought it out!” you exclaim.

He nods while giggling at your reaction. “It’s cold today, so I figured.”

You sit down next to him, thanking him with a few gracious kisses on his cheek. “Alright, then. Ume, time’s up.”

He laughs but shakes his head. “You should eat first!”

You lean over to put your chin on his shoulder, looking up at him with a slight huff. “You can’t keep stalling, Ume!”

You continue to stare at him, wide-eyed and a little desperate, while he does his best to avoid looking back at you. Surprisingly, after a few more seconds, your boyfriend still doesn’t budge or relent, despite his usual impulse to give in.

“Fine,” you sigh, shoulders drooping in disappointment. You sit back up, but with a softer voice, you mumble, “Just tell me if it’s good or bad news.”

At that, Hajime breaks. He wraps his arms around you and embraces you tightly.

“Of course, it’s good!” he exclaims. He’s looking at you seriously, his eyes flaring with grey sparks of excitement and delight. “Well, it’s not really news. I just wanted to ask you to move in with me.”

You gape, chin dropping and mouth opening in surprise.

He’s holding you by the shoulders, and looks more serious than he was before. “I think it’d be great! I get to see you every day, and we wouldn’t have to worry about making time for each. What do you think?”

You think his hands feel a little too heavy, a little too tight. The stars in his eyes seem to sparkle even brighter, and you almost wince at how electrifying – a little too much, really – his stare is. Then, there’s also how close he is to you, and combined with the heater, it’s a little too sweltering for you. 

The more you try to think, to come up with some response, to find it in you to want to say “yes,” the more “a little” becomes “too much.”

Hajime tilts his head, leaning even closer until his forehead brushes against yours. His hand comes up to your cheek and whispers, “Do you want to live with me?”

The slight sheen of sweat from his palm against your face, the feel of his breath against your skin, the dilation of his pupils –

It’s too much.

Out of sheer instinct, you push him away, hard and forceful hands against his chest. The recoil of the movement forces both of you back a little, and you’re both shocked.

But within a heartbeat, numbing surprise is replaced by sheer humiliation. Heat travels to your head and neck, and now, it’s beyond too much. You scramble to your feet, grunting when you knock your arms and knees against the frames of the kotatsu, and dash out of the living room to the front entrance, barely caring to slide your work shoes on properly. You hear your boyfriend yell out something that you can’t quite decipher through the throbbing that deafens your ears, and you think you respond with a blubber of an apology, but all of that doesn’t matter much anymore when you’re sprinting out of Hajime’s apartment.

You don’t know where you are. You just avoid people and bright lights, and continue to run, run, run until you quite literally can’t. 

You don’t know how many blocks you’ve traversed or what area of the neighborhood you’re in when you stop, hands flying to rest at your bent knees as you wheeze to breath. Hell, you haven’t been at Hajime’s place often enough to know the area he lives in the first place. All you can tell is that you’re next to a children’s park where the street lights are flickering and the surrounding houses are quiet, save for a few barking dogs. You only stopped here because you feel nauseated. You continue to dry-heave and lean against an adjacent rail, aching to feel the icy metal counter the burning at your fingertips.

You’re heated – from embarrassment or overstimulation, probably both – that you can’t even feel the cold through your thin work shirt and suit pants. You wish you could, though, because you’d do anything to feel different, to snap yourself out of whatever it is that’s possessing you.

Squatting down to the ground, you continue to gasp until your lungs no longer feel like they’re going to give out, eventually transitioning to the lingering sensation of a dry, aching throat. Your head is spinning less, and it’s only becoming more and more apparent to you that you’re in a terrible position.

You have no idea where you are right now, and without a phone, you can’t navigate your way back. The sweat that clings to your skin and dampens your clothes is becoming increasingly uncomfortable, causing you to shiver as it chills with the temperature. With enough wandering, you probably could find Hajime’s place, but deep down, something in your heart stubbornly refuses to let you return to safety and comfort.

When did you become like this?

You bite down on your lip. Ever since you started dating Hajime, you’ve refused to let yourself think back, instead willing yourself to face forward and move past the raised voices, tight grips on bruised wrists, and hot flashes of pain from reddened skin that had plagued you before. Because Hajime isn’t like others.

He’s charismatic, boyishly charming, and very optimistic. He has calloused hands, yet they’re the softest pair you’ve ever held. He gives you the tightest hugs and often lifts you up and spins your around in the process, and they never fail to make you feel untouchable, invincible and self-assured in a way that only he can make you feel. And most importantly, he’s so incredibly loving, overflowing in the way that he’s so soft-hearted and delicate and patient with you. It’s not infantilizing or patronizing, either. He’s simply so genuine in character that you can’t help but love him.

He’s not like anyone else. You know that.

But fear isn’t something that’s so easily forgotten or overcome. The possibility that you two don’t work out is a real, tangible danger, and you don’t want to lose yourself again. You can’t afford that, so you don’t – won’t – let yourself fall in any deeper. Moving in together would require more commitment and time spent together, meaning more opportunities for slip-ups and mistakes and fights, and you can’t help but tear up at the thought. You only want to make Hajime happy, but that’s unrealistic.

A yell of your name disrupts your thoughts, and you look up to see your boyfriend running over. He calls your name again before dropping down next to you, draping your coat over your shoulders, and taking your hands in his much warmer ones.

He blows on your trembling fingers, cheeks puffing with every exhale, before he brings you in closer, awkwardly forcing your face into his neck while he wraps himself around you.

He says your name one last time. You think you hear a tremble or a shake in his voice, but you don’t comment on it.

“You’re going to get sick,” he croaks.

You feel tears beginning stream down your face, and you can barely muster an apology. “I-I'm s-sorry, Ume.”

He pats at your back. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

A few minutes later, once your crying has reduced to the occasional sniffle, he helps you up and moves the two of you over to an empty bench that is placed beside a vending machine. Without asking, he slots a few coins in, and the machine retrieves two cans of hot tea, one of which he passes to you as he sits beside you.

From the corner of your eye, you watch as he cracks open the drink and takes a sip. You expect him to ask you about what you’re thinking, what’s going on, why you reacted the way you did.

“I’m sorry.”

You startle, but you don’t say anything.

“I should’ve asked if it was okay to touch you.”

You swivel your head to look at him, eyebrows scrunched with confusion. You ask, “What are you talking about?”

He nudges his head back towards the railing. “Earlier, when we crouching. I just couldn’t help it, but I should’ve asked. ”

“O-oh.”

You look back down at your lap.

You take a deep breath before pressing, “Aren’t you going to ask me about my meltdown?”

He simply shrugs and takes another sip. He exhales, followed by a puff of condensation, and responds, “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“But aren’t you curious?”

You’re facing him again, and Hajime, with his dimmed, stormy grey eyes, stares at you.

“Why the rush?” he replies. “We have time.” He raises his hand, reaching over, before pausing in realization. You catch his hesitant stare and lean forward yourself so that his hand can pat you on the head. He smiles before continuing, “We can go at whatever pace we want. We should slow down when we need to, and make big decisions when we have to. I don’t want me or this relationship to be a source of stress for you.”

You’re stunned, but you really shouldn’t be. Of course, he’s so understanding and empathetic. Sometimes, you think your boyfriend can be a little too laidback, but it’s moments like this that remind you that you’re grateful for that part of him as well.

“S-so...,” you whisper, “... we don’t need to move in together?"

He nods and kisses you on the temple. “Not at all! I’m realizing it came off really forceful, but really, I only wanted to ask you to consider the possibility of it.”

Feeling a little weak, you sigh and rest your head on his shoulder. You mutter, “I totally overreacted. I’m so sorry, Ume.”

He kisses you again, this time on the center of your forehead. “I’m sorry, too. But we can figure this out together, yeah? We’ll live together eventually – or at least I hope so –, and we’ll fix whatever’s bothering you.”

You purse your lips together at his words. When he finishes, you immediately ask, “How can you sound so confident? What if something happens, and we break up?”

Hajime groans at the question, more than displeased at the thought. Chewing at his lip, he thinks for a few seconds before he answers, “Well, that’d really suck, and I can’t promise you that we won’t break up. But!”

He grabs your hand in his and puffs out his chest. You can’t help but chuckle at his antics. 

“But,” he resumes, “I want to be with you, so I’ll do whatever I can so that we don’t break up. If we still do, then that can’t be helped, but while we’re together, I’ll do my best to make us happy!”

He raises your clasped hands up towards the sky and laughs loudly. You can’t help but reciprocate his energy, giggling as well.

“When you put it like that,” you admit, still chuckling, “it feels like everything’s going to be just fine.”

“Of course, it will be!” he exclaims and flashes you a proud smirk. “The two of us will make it work.”

You shake your head out of disbelief. Less than an hour ago, it felt like the world was closing in on you, like you were going to lose your foothold at any point. But here you are, with your lover, and his words seemed to have revived you, renewed your faith with blinding, unfailing hope, and you feel like you can take on any problem that could be thrown at the two of you.

The surge of confidence helps you make your decision, and you hold his face with one hand, guiding him gently to hear you out.

“Hajime,” you say, taking care to speak slowly, wanting to get your feelings as clearly as possible across, “I appreciate the offer – I truly do –, but I don’t think we should move in together just yet. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to or that I care about you or us any less, but I... I just need to think about it more. Can you, um, give me some time?”

Instead of agreeing or denying, your boyfriend whispers, “Can I hug you?,” to which you can barely nod at before he’s crushing you in his arms. You gasp out loud at the impact, but this time, it’s not too much. It’s grounding, reassuring, loving in a way that only Hajime can manage.

Even though you need air, you still manage to choke out a laugh, and you hug him back. If the two of you can figure every problem out like this, then everything will probably be alright.

winter event masterlist

[guess-my-next-obsession]

An Elementary drabble idea 🫶🏻

Joel coming home in a sour mood after a long and frustrating and just plain tiring day at work, but all of that immediately melts away when hears Reader and Sarah laughing and then spots them playfully dancing in the living area / kitchen / outdoor patio / wherever (lol). And he watches them for a minute, soaking in the precious moment, until they notice him and pull him in on the dancing that leaves the three of them in a happy, playful little mess. And… yeah :’)

Thank you!

A Hard Day

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader (Elementary-verse)

rating: F (irritable joel but only for a split second, joel attempts a twerk, just ridiculous fluff what can i say)

wc: <1k

series masterlist | joel masterlist

It had been a while since someone had managed to cut through the thick layer of peace your love had built around his heart, but today someone did it. It was the goddamn city inspector, of course, those fuckers having nothing better to do than nitpick over every possible fault. Joel had gritted his teeth all afternoon, holding his tongue so that they could pass the inspection only for the guy to fail them over an non-permitted deck the owners paid Joel under the table to build.

Now, walking into the house, he was afraid he was going to bring this anger home to the two most undeserving ladies in the world. He felt it in his bones, his snappiness brewing, surely bound to spill over onto you once you inevitably pressed him for answers.

He didn’t find either of you in the living room or kitchen like he expected, but he heard Sarah’s boom box outside playing her new Destiny’s Child cd she’d just gotten for her birthday. He felt irritability bubble in his chest, constricting his breath as he walked over to the patio door, finding you spinning Sarah around on your finger.

As if your laughter carried some sort of magical property to it, he felt every sour feeling in his body burn to ash as he watched the two of you giggle in between singing along off-key to Bills, Bills, Bills.

He leaned against the frame of the sliding glass door and crossed his arms over his chest, a content smile replacing the scowl he’d worn since noon as he watched the performance like a true fan.

When you caught his eyeline, he shot you a wink, expecting you to smile and go on dancing but you had other ideas. Sauntering over to him with your arms stretched out, you unfolded his arms from over his chest and tugged him onto the patio, forcing him to become a part of the performance.

“Nah, I—“

“Dance and I’ll give you a blowjob,” you whispered in his ear and Joel instantly became enthusiastic.

You and Sarah cackled, doubled over as you watched Joel shake his hips to the music, his lips puckered and eyes closed as he moved. When he started to attempt a twerk, you lost it, shaking your head at him as you laughed breathlessly. You walked over and guided his hips to stop, but secretly used the opportunity to slip his wallet and cellphone from his back pocket so that you could…

Splash.

Joel’s body hit the sun-warmed water of the pool with a splat as you pushed him in, Sarah gasping before she let out another breathless laugh. When he rose to the surface, shaking out his hair and smoothing his palms over his wet face, his eyes found you, full of pride and mischief as you knelt down by the edge of the pool to greet him.

“Thought that was funny, huh?” he asked, a half-smirk on his face. “You forget, I got an assistant to do my dirty work for me.”

“Huh?” Before you could even get the sound out, Sarah was pushing you over the edge and into the pool, Joel’s boisterous laughter sounding out long before you emerged from below the surface. When you did, you shot Sarah a betrayed, open mouthed smile, watching as she innocently shrugged before jumping in the water to join the three of you, all of you in your street clothes but none of you caring.

Joel splashed you with some water as he approached you for his homecoming kiss, only to get stopped by your palm pressing against his lips.

“You started it,” he mumbled against your skin before giving your palm a nip. Giggling, you decided he was right and lowered your palm to give him a sweet peck.

“How was work?” you asked as he hugged you tight to his body and swam with you to the middle of the pool. Sarah had busied herself with floating around the two of you on her back, at peace with the water and summer breeze blowing over her.

“Don’t get me started,” he sighed, hugging you tighter as you watched Sarah pass the two of you, her eyes closed to block out the sun. “But I don’t think any of it matters any more. Not when I have you two to come home to.”

“Even if I pushed you into the pool?” you asked with a cutesy smile, Joel’s half-smirk turning into a grin of pure affection.

“Even then,” he confirmed, giving you one more quick kiss. “And good luck gettin’ me out. I think I threw my back out tryin’ to shake my ass.”

“Why do you think I stopped you?”

•

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•

•

•

•

•

[florawrites-blog]

Yunha kang core - enhypen

Enha 8th fem!member moment Im trying a new writing vibe hope you like it and not find it confusing

#Scene 1

ENHYPEN’s latest en-log vlog, shot in the bustling streets of New York City. The members are casually walking, soaking in the energy of the city. As they laugh and chat, the camera cuts to Yunha, walking slightly ahead of them, dressed in an extravagant fur ensemble, head-to-toe—strikingly confident.

Protestors (off-screen, chanting): “Stop wearing fur! It’s cruel and unethical!”

The noise grows louder as the group passes a group of animal rights protesters holding signs. The camera briefly captures the scene of passionate activists, but then quickly pans back to Yunha, who is completely unfazed. She strides down the sidewalk like it’s her runway, the fur coat flowing dramatically in the wind. Her sunglasses glint in the sunlight, and her face shows nothing but cool indifference. As if she’s the star in her own movie, she flips her hair slightly, continuing to serve looks, the protestors’ chants fading into the background.

In the next cut, the ENHYPEN members are shown looking at each other, mildly impressed with Yunha’s ability to remain unbothered, even in such an intense situation. A few of them share a knowing smirk, but Yunha keeps walking, not even acknowledging the chaos around her.

comment section:

@jay#needthat: "Yunha SERVING in the fur coat while the protestors are losing it 😂 she’s unbothered and I love it. Absolute icon energy."

@sunghoonswife: "Who else watched this moment like 10 times??? She legit slayed so hard, not even the protests could stop her 🔥"

@nikipullup: "Yunha walking through those protests like a BOSS 😩✨ The way she pays them no mind is giving 'I do what I want' vibes, queen behavior fr."

@jakelostbakery:

"Umm so we just gonna ignore how the editors didn't even bother to cut off yunha walking with fur while protests are going on LOLLL."

#Scene 2

In the latest Weverse video, Jake posts a funny moment from the group's downtime in the kitchen. The video starts with a casual shot of Yunha brewing coffee, her expression calm and focused as she moves about the kitchen. The rich aroma fills the room, and it’s clear she’s in her zone.

Cue Ni-ki, lurking in the background with a mischievous grin on his face. He sneaks up behind Yunha, clearly trying to scare her. The camera zooms in as he prepares to jump and startle her, but the moment he makes his move…

Yunha, completely unphased, calmly turns to him mid-pour and says: “Want some coffee?”

Ni-ki freezes, his attempt at scaring her falling flat. His expression quickly turns from confident to defeated as Yunha casually offers him a cup, not even batting an eye at his antics.

Ni-ki (frustrated, sighing): "Ugh, You RUINED it!"

Jake and Sunghoon, who had been watching from the side, burst into uncontrollable laughter, doubling over at how easily Yunha brushed off Ni-ki’s attempt. Their laughter echoes through the room, while Ni-ki crosses his arms, still visibly annoyed.

Ni-ki (grumbling as he sips the coffee): "high key you guys suck"

The video ends with Jake and Sunghoon still chuckling in the background, while Yunha continues making her coffee like nothing happened, embodying her trademark unbothered energy.

#Scene 3

The final day of the tour held a bittersweet atmosphere, and after 401 days of constant performances, emotions were running high. Enhypen stood under the glowing stage lights, basking in the overwhelming love from the fans one last time. As the members grew emotional, tears started to slip down their cheeks, a mix of exhaustion and gratitude catching up with them.

On the opposite side of the stage, Yunha was busy collecting plushies and gifts tossed from the crowd, her laughter ringing out as she playfully waved at fans. Her bright, carefree smile seemed oblivious to the emotional wave hitting the others. The members couldn’t help but look over at her, sharing a quiet moment of pride and affection, their hearts warming at how effortlessly Yunha could lift the mood—even if she didn’t know she was doing it.

One by one, they stole glances at her, some even cracking small smiles through their tears. It was like she carried a little light of her own, a reminder of how much they’d shared and how far they’d come together.

#Scene 4

At the Prada show for the upcoming 25 campaign, the spotlight was on Enhypen as they were interviewed about their roles and recent projects. Amid the chatter, one of Prada’s biggest ambassadors—a model known for his charm—seemed fixated on Yunha, his flirty remarks and lingering glances impossible to miss. Each Enhypen member caught on immediately, exchanging amused looks as they watched this unfold. Meanwhile, Yunha was blissfully unaware of the subtle tension, happily answering questions and laughing along.

Then, with her signature bright smile, she threw out a line that left everyone—her members, the model, and the fans—stunned: “Oh yeah, he’s my new Prada brother!” The room went silent for a beat, with her members barely stifling their laughter. As soon as the interview was published, fans erupted, laughing themselves silly over Yunha’s unintentional yet legendary move. She hadn’t just friend-zoned the guy; she’d brother-zoned him, officially sealing his fate as “Yunha’s Prada brother.” Fans couldn’t get enough of it, loving her innocent charm and completely oblivious reactions.

[seriiousgiirl]

𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉 𝕴𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖂𝖎𝖓𝖊.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ݁𝓛𝓸𝓻𝓭!𝓐𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓸𝓷 𝔁 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻. ⊹ ₊ ݁.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ 𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶 . ⊹ ₊ ݁. ❛ You lied to me! I did. You poisoned me! I did. You said you loved me! I do. ❜ After the death of your father, you are thrown into the bustling town of Baldur's Gate, leaving behind the peaceful country manor you called home. Eager for a taste of freedom, you slip away one night and find yourself rescued by the enigmatic Lord Ancunin. As you spend more time with him, you learn of his links with the mysterious Duke Szarr and his own secrets. As a result, you find yourself entangled in a web of deceit and betrayal. But as the truth unfolds, amid whispers of scandal and echoes of forgotten secrets, lies the key to your salvation - or your downfall. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ݁𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔱. ⊹ ₊ ݁. regency!au, strangers to lovers, slow burn, tension, mutual pining, angst, smut will happen later, age difference, forced marriage, gothic setting. Hello everyone! It's been a while since I've written for the public, but I hope it'll be OK. :) After binge watching Bridgerton and rewatching Crimson Peak, I thought an AU with Astarion would be perfect. Enjoy!!

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

The grand oak doors of Thornfield Manor creak open for what you know will be the last time. A gust of wind, carrying the chill of an early spring morning, sweeps through the entrance hall. You clutch your mother’s hand, seeking comfort in the warmth of her touch, though her face is a mask of composure, betraying no hint of the turmoil you know brews within her.

After all, Father's sudden passing has left you in a state of shock and uncertainty. 

The estate, with its sprawling gardens and serene countryside views, is now a mere memory, a chapter of your life that has been abruptly closed. With your elder brother away on military duty and the estate debts proving insurmountable, there was no choice but to seek refuge in the city.

And for that, your mother had plans, and the most important one was to find you a husband. If you were honest with yourself, you would have preferred that your mother had died instead, but that thought was forbidden. You knew that your father who had always shown you warmth and kindness, would have never wished for that kind of marriage for his beloved daughter—but he wasn’t here anymore to contest your mother’s decision. 

As the carriage rattled down the cobblestone path leading away from your beloved Thornfield, you cast one last, lingering glance at the manor. The ivy-clad walls seem to whisper farewells, and the distant hills, where you had spent countless afternoons in joyous exploration, stand as silent sentinels of a life left behind.

Your destination is Baldur's Gate, a bustling city known for its mercantile prowess and vibrant social scene. The city looms ahead, a stark contrast to the tranquility of your rural home. You had visited Baldur's Gate but once before, as a child, and the memory of its crowded streets and imposing architecture fills you with a mix of trepidation and reluctant curiosity.

Mother squeezes your hand, pulling you from your reverie. "We must be strong, Y/n," she says, her voice steady yet tinged with a sorrow that mirrors your own. "Baldur's Gate may not hold the peace of Thornfield, but it will offer us opportunities.” By ‘opportunities,’ you knew she meant a noble man to marry. And, you also knew that you had little or no say in who it’ll be.

“We shall endure this, together."

“Yes, mother.” You nodded, though your heart ached with the weight of your loss. 

The city, with its promise of new beginnings, felt both a blessing and a burden. What awaited you in the bustling streets of Baldur's Gate, however, you could not say…

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It had been a week since you arrived at your new house in the city, and to your surprise, integrating into high society wasn't as hard as you might have imagined. Your father had left a positive impact on his Thornfield wine business, which smoothed many social pathways. Your family name carried weight, opening doors that might have otherwise remained closed.

The house itself was grand, located in a prosperous district, with wide windows that overlooked bustling streets. From the confines of your room, you observed the city’s vibrant life. Baldur's Gate was a place of diversity and wonder. Elves with their ethereal grace, dwarves bustling about their trades, drows with their mysterious allure, and even Tieflings, with their exotic and often misunderstood appearances, filled the streets below. Yet, you experienced this only as a distant observer, confined by your mother's strict rules.

Your mother, with her cold demeanor, had forbidden you to venture outside until the wedding season began. "It wouldn't do for you to be seen mingling with common folk," she had said, her tone brooking no argument. 

The days were monotonous and long—very long, filled with preparations for the social season. You spent hours with dressmakers, trying on elaborate gowns, and with tutors, brushing up on etiquette and dance. 

Perhaps if your mother had been more aware of your need to see the outside world, you would have never found yourself in this situation. Late at night, as the city slumbered, you found yourself wandering the unfamiliar streets alone, without a chaperon or a maid to accompany you. 

It was a reckless act, one born out of a desperate longing for freedom.

You had always been like that, even in the peaceful countryside surrounding Thornfield Manor. An adventurous spirit, yearning to explore beyond the familiar boundaries of home, you often found solace in wandering the forests alone and in the dappled sunlight filtering through the tree.

But the city was a different beast altogether. 

The streets of Baldur's Gate took on a different character under the cloak of darkness. Shadows danced along the cobblestones, and the faint glow of lanterns cast eerie shapes against the walls of the surrounding buildings. It was dangerous, you knew, for a young woman of your standing to venture out unaccompanied. 

You told yourself it was curiosity that led you here, a desire to explore the streets that had been forbidden to you by day. But in truth, it was something deeper, a yearning for independence…

The city was a maze of winding alleys and hidden courtyards. You passed taverns alive with music and laughter, and dimly lit shops adorned with treasures from distant lands. The air was heavy with the scent of spices and sea salt. As you turned down a narrow alleyway, you caught sight of movement in the shadows ahead.

Instinctively, you froze, your heart pounding in your chest. 

A ragtag group of drunken men emerged from the shadows, their laughter loud and lewd. They were a motley crew indeed, their clothes stained, their faces red and flushed from excessive consumption. At their head stood a particularly large man, his arms bulging with muscle, a thick beard hiding the lower half of his face.

Their eyes raked over your body, appraising you in a way that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. You could almost feel their filthy thoughts, a cold shiver snaking its way down your spine.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" the large man bellowed, his voice thick with drink.

"Hey there, sweetheart,"another one of them slurred, reaching out a hand to grab at your arm. "What's a pretty thing like you doing out here all alone?" The others chuckled, closing in around you, their foul breath making you recoil. 

Their hands reached for you, grasping and groping, their touch repulsive and unwanted. “No, let me go!” You tried to push them away, but they were relentless. You felt your heart sink, fear gripping you like a vice. Just as you thought all hope was lost, a shadow detached itself from the wall behind you, a tall figure emerging from the darkness.

His gaze was hard and unyielding as he surveyed the scene before him. His clothes were finely made, a stark contrast to the ragged group that surrounded you. He was handsome, his features sharp and angular, his eyes as red as ruby itself.

"Step aside, gentlemen," he said, his voice low and commanding.

The men snarled, but his demeanor was intimidating, and they reluctantly parted, allowing him to stand before you, his hands finding their place on your hips. "Are you alright, miss?" he asked, his concern dramatic but evident.

You nodded, swallowing hard, your heart still pounding in your chest. You could feel the heat of his body, the warmth of it a comforting contrast to the cold hand that had moments ago crept up your thigh.

"Thank you," you whispered, the words barely audible.

He offered you his arm, helping you to slip yours through it. "Let us take our leave from this place before further trouble arrives, it would be embarrassing for a lady like you to see more of this world of debauchery, wouldn't it?”

You nodded, grateful for his intervention and eager to put the unsettling encounter behind you. "Yes, please," you agreed, clinging to his arm as he guided you away from the shadows and back towards the safety of the main thoroughfare.

As you walked, he turned to you with a charming smile, his gaze warm and inquisitive. "Forgive me for prying, but are you new to the city?" he asked, his tone light with curiosity. "I feel certain I would have remembered such a pretty face."

You couldn't help but blush at the compliment, flustered by his attention. "Yes, we just arrived," you admitted, a hint of uncertainty in your voice. "We're staying in the...uh...West End district."

His smile widened, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Ah, the West End," he remarked. "A fine choice. It's fortunate for you that our paths crossed tonight. Allow me to see you safely home."

You hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to trust this stranger, but the sincerity in his gaze reassured you. "Thank you," you said again, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over you. "I would appreciate that."

The walk through the quiet streets of Baldur's Gate was surprisingly calm, the tension from the alley fading with each step. As you strolled, the distinctive scent of his cologne filled the air—a mix of bergamot, brandy, and rosemary that was both intriguing and comforting. 

The gentleman beside you hummed a gentle tune, the melody soothing in the stillness of the night.

You found yourself relaxing in his presence, the fear and anxiety of earlier moments melting away. He maintained a respectful silence, his humming the only sound breaking the night's tranquility. As the familiar sight of your new home came into view, you felt a mixture of relief and disappointment—the walk had been unexpectedly pleasant.

Pausing at the gate of your residence, he turned to you with a concerned expression. "You should be more careful next time," he advised, his tone teasing but warm. He casually reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief to gently wipe a smudge of dirt from your cheek. His touch was light, almost tender, and when he smiled, you thought you saw a flash of something unusual—were those fangs? You blinked, and the moment passed, leaving you to wonder if your imagination was playing tricks on you.

Then, with a gesture both casual and deliberate, he placed the handkerchief in your hand.

You felt the cool, smooth fabric of his glove brush against your skin as he pressed the handkerchief into your palm. The contact was brief, but the sensation of his fingers grazing yours sent an unexpected shiver down your spine. His touch was light yet lingering, creating a moment of intimate connection that left you breathless.

"You can keep it," he said, his voice soft but firm, the authority in his tone leaving no room for refusal.

"Thank you," you murmured, feeling a flush of embarrassment at the fuss he was making over you. Your fingers tightened around the handkerchief, the delicate fabric still warm from his touch. "For everything."

"It was my pleasure," he replied, his smile widening into a grin that was both charming and slightly unsettling. "I couldn't leave a lady in distress. Now, go inside and rest. The city can be a treacherous place after dark."

You nodded, grateful for his kindness despite the lingering mystery about him. As you turned to enter your home, you glanced back one last time. He stood there, bathed in the soft glow of the streetlamps, watching you with an unreadable expression. 

"I didn't catch your name," you said, your curiosity piqued despite the urgency to retreat indoors.

He merely smiled in response, a knowing glint in his eyes. "It won't be necessary," he replied cryptically.

With a final nod, you slipped inside, bolting the door behind you.

Safe within the familiar walls, you leaned against the door, your mind racing with the events of the night. 

Who was he?

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