#like the song is only so long and i only have the patience to collect so many clips and maybe i want to make a part 2 at some point and

[clueless1995]

i feel very petty for blocking anyone who puts “where’s [whatever movie]” in the notes of my edit but honestly? i’m OVER IT. go make your own version with the movies you Can’t Believe I Didn’t Include

[thedragonkween]

King Baldwin IV Headcanons! ♔🤍♕

A/N: So, here we are. I could not resist this mysterious and tormented king's charm. His silky voice makes me dream! These are some headcanons I've collected off the top of my head. The Reader is implied to be female and married to Baldwin IV. Please, do feel free to hit my inbox to ramble about our king because I'm literally dying of pining and yearning.

tags: female!reader x baldwin iv of jerusalem (from kingdom of heaven); reader is married to baldwin iv of jerusalem; fluff; slight angst towards the end

wc: 1150k

reccomended songs to listen to while reading: "Summertime Sadness" by Hildegard von Blingin; "Right Here" by Ashes Remain; "Blood, Sweat, Tears" by BTS (orchestral version)

"Many are the tales of the King Baldwin IV of Jerusalem and of his Queen. Despite the varying accounts of their deeds, each one of them agrees on one aspect: the King of Jerusalem loved his Queen dearly, and the world is richer for it".

Baldwin IV is mysterious, intense, valiant, noble and utterly devoted to you, his Queen. But what does this devotion look like?

Firstly, he would believe in you like no other and would always be ready to give you his best advice whenever the weight of your responsibility becomes too much. Foreign rulers would soon learn of your qualities - there would hardly be a piece of correspondence where the King of Jerusalem does not praise the intellect and insight of his dear wife. He would glance at you from time to time, while you both work at your desks sharing the burden of paperwork, silently thanking God for having sent him not only a beautiful, but reliable life companion as well.

He values your opinions greatly and has the utmost regard for your views on political, military and state matters. Disagreements happen, yet your overall values are aligned, which is why Baldwin understands your vision and where your point comes from. During the discussions regarding complex decisions, he would let you speak and explain, then he would offer his honest thoughts on the matter, should he see another, different way from yours. 

Playing chess is a favorite way of spending quality time together in your chambers, away from the chaos of the court. If you know how to play and are proficient at it, he would delight in the thrill of challenge, as he would finally have found a true equal. If you do not know how to play, he would teach you with patience, taking pride whenever you make an unexpected and astute move. He would be such a nerd while he explains the rules to you and would be delighted to see how your mind works when devising a plan.

"Congratulations, dove. You have a checkmate."

I can also see Baldwin taking you on long rides, if his health allows it. He would sweetly check the reins and saddle on your horse before mounting on his steed and leading you away to enjoy the cool early morning breeze, before the heat of Jerusalem becomes too sweltering. You would have a nice and secluded spot to enjoy and to pretend that you are a couple of young lovers without responsibilities and crowns weighing on your heads.

Your presence brings him safety and comfort, which is what would convince him to remove his mask when he is alone with you and the physicians. He would especially love to rest his head on your lap as you gently caress his curls while the physicians tend to his skin. It is a sacred moment. He does not know how he went so long without your presence during this delicate time. Speaking softly to each other, you would distract him from the pain with talk of your hometown, fairy tales from your culture, or even simply reflecting on a happening of that day. On these occasions, you learn how to best take care of him, watching the physician tend to his arm while you tend to the other, delicately dabbing the cloth over his wounded skin. Baldwin feels so protected and safe in your presence. He thinks you are God’s greatest gift to him.

Now, jealousy. Baldwin knows he boasts the honor of having an exquisite flower such as yourself to call his own. As do powerful men and courtiers from distant lands. Many covet your loveliness as one would a precious gem. Should one of these foolish people try to take you from him or even stare at you for too long to be considered proper, they would be met with a pure force to be reckoned with. Should a knight’s eye linger on you for too long, he would be quick to put him in place in his signature glacial, elegant way. Before long, everyone learns not to disrespect the Queen consort of Jerusalem.

“Perhaps you would have understood my point, had you not been so insolently ogling my wife”. He takes out his whip. “On your knees. You will pay for insulting the Queen”.

He would protect you with his life. He swore to protect Jerusalem and, as its Queen, that includes first of all you. Should a courtier doubt your devotion and mistake it for thirst for power, or should he learn of an orchestrated attempt on your life, he would waste no time in employing his best forces in your service to defend you.

His enemies and templars alike fear him, yet with you he is as gentle as the morning breeze that gently caresses Jerusalem. This powerful king who makes armies tremble and kingdoms shake is the same person who holds and kisses your hand (when in public, bringing your fingers to the lips of his mask), who silently admires your loveliness from afar and sighs to himself, who longs for your warmth after a tiring day. 

He would write you letters. Lots of them. And not always when he is away. Maybe he just liked the way the sun reflected in your eyes that morning. Or maybe when you helped a servant, he was moved by your kindness. Your every action inspires him, so much so that he has to let out his thoughts on paper. You have a pretty wooden box brimming with delicate papers penned by Baldwin in your honor. He is not only the King of Jerusalem, but also the king of pining, of yearning. Even when he has you near, he yearns for you.

I love to imagine him letting you accompany him to battle. He would love it too, in theory. You make him so strong, the both of you would be quite the sight, meeting your enemies head on, as one, donning your best armors. Yet, at the same time I cannot imagine him resting easy knowing that a loose arrow, a desperate soldier seeking glory for killing the Queen of Jerusalem, or fatigue and sickness could take you from him. It pains his heart to be parted from you, yet he cannot risk your safety. Instead, Baldwin would trust you with ruling the kingdom. He has absolute faith in your intelligence, willpower and cleverness, especially after all he has taught you about running the realm. He longs for you every second he’s away from Jerusalem, yet his heart is at peace knowing his kingdom is in the most capable hands.

When he feels that his time on this Earth is nearing his end, he calls for his most trusted advisors, including Balian and Tiberias. He would ask them, almost begging, to protect you always, at all costs, when he is no longer there to do so. Balian and Tiberias would exchange a quick glance to each other, vowing to respect their King’s wish until the very end.

“Protect her. Please.” “Always, my Lord”.

Poems, songs and stories would be written in honor of your love even centuries after your passing. Many tales would speak of Baldwin IV of Jerusalem and his Queen. Different pieces of art, such as paintings and ballads, would inspire people from all over the world to find a love as devoted and unshakable as yours. Until the very end.

All in all, to love Baldwin means knowing your time together is limited. As is the time of all creatures on Earth. He would beg you to go on after his passing, to live for him. He shall wait for you and protect you from above. Until the very end.

[koolaidoverwriting]

GENERAL DATING HEADCANONS

CHARACTERS: Eyeless Jack, Jeff the Killer, Gender Neutral Reader

Request. I wasn't sure if you meant Jack x Jeff. I stuck to separate SFW and NSFW headcanons. But you can send another ask to clarify! :)

CW: Explicit Sexual Content, But Also Romantic Fluffy Stuff, Blood, Self-Harm, Cannibalism, Biting, Not Graphic

NSFW UNDER CUT! MINORS DNI!

EYELESS JACK

SFW:

Jack doesn't feel as much empathy or sympathy as other people. It definitely takes a long time for him to warm up to you, let alone get comfortable enough to date you.

Jack is an outlier in the mansion. He likes being alone, doing his own thing. Plus, a lot of people don't like his bluntness and sarcasm.

His tar spills faster when he's upset, but it's pretty much gone when he's happy. That's why he hardly cries tar around you.

He has a hard time showing affection through his words, but you know he loves you. Sometimes, he just pops up and holds your hand, or wraps his arms around you.

When you're hurt, he tends to your wounds, cooks you warm meals, and stays by your side. It's a mutual silence where you're just enjoying each others' presence.

Jack is a bookworm. You spot the books he reads and you check them out. Jack is over the moon when you randomly reference his favourite book. "Did you really read that for me?"

Surprisingly, Jack talks a lot. He rants about his interests in gardening and science.

Speaking of gardening, he'll most definitely grow your favourite flowers for you. He'd give you handmade bouquets and flower crowns, as well as perfumes and scented candles.

Jack isn't against light–hearted teasing. He says flirty things just to catch you off guard since you aren't used to it. Most of these "flirty things" are phrases he heard from TV shows.

He does try to get you to try kidneys. If you refuse it because it's raw, he'll cook it for you. If you refuse it because it's gross, he'll shrug a shoulder and eat it himself.

NSFW:

Jack is gentle with you. He knows how much smaller you are in comparison, so he makes sure he doesn't bruise you.

If you allow it, he'll bite you enough to draw blood, but nothing more.

His ears are sensitive! Licking or biting them gets him all worked up.

Jack has three tongues that overlap in his mouth, meaning he's a fucking demon with oral sex. His tongues squirm inside of you, hitting all the right spots. He could eat you out for hours before substituting his tongues for his cock.

When he sees you're close, he only fucks you harder.

Jack's cock doesn't fit inside you all the way. Your senses leave you, and you're a drooling, blubbering mess as he rams into your entrance.

After you're done, he'll clean up any blood that spilled and kiss your bite marks. While cuddling, he asks you what you want to eat. He'll cook anything for you.

JEFF THE KILLER

SFW:

Jeff lives in the mansion and has been living there since he was 17. Before that, he lived with a blind old woman who thought he was her grandson.

Dating him means you're going to have to get used to his angry outbursts until he learns how to control them better. He tends to lash out and then apologise later. You're sure with enough patience, things might get better. Especially because you know he's trying his best.

He loves emo music. In fact, he collects merchandise from the concerts he sneaks into. At night, you get to cuddle with Jeff while some emo song blasts on his speaker.

He also plays the electric guitar and would love to teach you how to play. And if you already know how to play, he'll get really excited about duetting with you.

Jeff has had self-esteem issues since the incident. He tries everything to make himself "beautiful", taking extensive care of his skin, hair and clothes.

He believes the scar makes him look better, maybe because it distracts from other parts of his face he's insecure about. He refreshes his cut every month.

You have to remind him that he's beautiful just the way he is. There are nights where you argue over it, but you try everything you can to help him overcome his insecurities — or at least accept his flaws.

He has a knife collection. He paints the handles of his knives all different colours. Some days, you could sit and talk with Jeff while you paint knife handles together.

"Can I test the sharpness on you?" "What?" "...I'm joking."

Jeff isn't a good cook. He never put time into learning how to cook. You, knowing he has to learn at some point, convince him you're on a "cooking date" whenever you want to teach him how to make a meal.

NSFW:

I already have a NSFW post for Jeff, but these are softer alternatives for when he's in a relationship.

Known fact: Jeff will use his knife during sex. He enjoys grazing it across your skin, smiling at your "cute" reactions.

The tip of the knife scratches your thighs. Your legs twitch as he looks into your eyes with a needy look.

Jeff likes seeing your desperation. He loves it when you grind against him, begging for his cock. He'll keep his hands off you, forcing you to grind helplessly. "Horny little bitch... Yeah, tell me how much you want me."

He fucks you at a rough, unstable rhythm as he tries to reach his peak. When he's in the zone, it's only his orgasm that matters to him.

Jeff mutters profanities under his breath with almost every thrust. It's a mixture of praise and degradation. "Fuck... D–Damn slut... You feel so fucking good..."

For aftercare, he doesn't do much. Just small things like giving you water and cuddling with you in bed. It's simple and it's nice.

!!! i'm very sorry if you meant "jack x jeff"! feel free to let me know in another ask, though!

[bandgie]

Can You Really? | Armageddon Event

Request: Patience | Lee Know (SKZ) by anon song!

warnings!: MDNI18+, bdsm themes, fem!reader, paddle use, impact play, pussy spanking, edging, bondage, nipple clamps, pussy eating (implied), blindfold use

1.1k words

Somewhere in the dark, he hushes you. The sound is meant to be helpful. To soothe your jittery nerves and trembling body. But when you’re tied. When your wrists are bound to your ankles, forcing your legs to bend the knee, it’s anything but. You only shiver more.

It doesn’t help that a blindfold impairs your vision. All you have is your hearing and sense of touch. But that damn hushing. It makes you break out in goosebumps. You even arch your back a little, causing the nipple clamps that attach to your collar by the chain tug.

“Ahhh,” you breathe a light moan from the pull. “D-don’t do that.”

Minho giggles and you imagine his bunny teeth poking past his lips. “Do what? I’m not even touching you.”

You might’ve laughed with him, his giggles are contagious, but you can’t even crack a smile when your body anticipates anything and everything he might do. “ ‘m sorry.” You’re not sure why you’re apologizing. “I just…fuck…I need to cum.”

He hums at that. You swear you’re about to orgasm from just his voice when you feel the acrylic texture cool against your skin. The paddle has a small, plastic rectangle Minho uses to slide against your body. He trails it between the valley of your breasts, swooping to one boob and rubbing your nipple in small circles.

Your bud is already so sensitive from the constant pressure of the clamp, but the paddle adds pleasure you thought you couldn’t feel. Small whimpers pass your lips and you will yourself to keep your neck still so the chain doesn’t yank.

However, that’s exactly what Minho wants you to do.

The paddle leaves your body for a second before crashing back down. Your nipple takes the landing, a loud slap sound emitting throughout the room. Pain that you blur with pleasure spreads in your body. You throw your head back so forcefully that the clamps pop off.

“Fuck!” You can feel the tears welting in your eyes. “Oh shhhit. I-you-no-” 

Minho snorts. “Eye you know? Forgetting how to speak already?”

You wish you could be snarky back, but Minho drags the rectangle lower and lower until it reaches your pelvis. All you can do is beg for mercy at this point.

“Y-you’re being mean.” The paddle stops just above your cunt. You swear you can hear his eyebrows pinch together. “I’m being mean?”

Crap, maybe you shouldn’t have said it like that. It would be smart of you to try and take it back, but sense is starting to leave you with every drop of arousal your pussy drips. You nod frantically instead.

“Ah. I think I get it.” Minho’s calmness is unsettling. The paddle travels a few inches lower until it catches your clit. You gasp, briefly thrashing against your restraints from the texture. The object has barely been on you for a second, but you're already wildly thrusting your hips for friction.

Surprisingly, Minho lets you. He keeps the plastic in place while you grind away. Your breasts giggle and you can hear the soft jingle of the clamps near your ears. There’s so much arousal on your pussy that there’s no need for lube when it rubs your clit repeatedly. The paddle grows embarrassingly wet, white cream beginning to collect on the surface. It doesn’t take long before slick sounds start to fill the room. 

Minho tuts annoyingly. “You just wanna cum. Can’t get you to stay still and pretty for me without you humping like a dog.” The paddle presses harder against your cunt. The extra pressure makes you whine. His words do little to stop your hips. You only grind harder, trying to find that right angle to get yourself to cum.

It feels like bliss when you find it - having to plant your feet flat on the bed and ignore how your shoulders scream from being tugged on. Minho’s putting just the right amount of pressure. Your clit catches the paddle just right and begins to feel that warmth pooling in your tummy.

Just as your orgasm builds, Minho pulls away. The paddle leaves your soaking lips and you whine desperately. You can’t even complain about how close you were when harsh slaps land on your cunt. 

You arch your entire back off the bed, thighs still apart as you twitch and gasp.

“I haven’t cum either, you know.” Minho’s voice is cold. “I know how to hold out. I know how to be patient. Something a slut like you obviously can’t understand.” It comes back again, this time, hitting your bundle of nerves right on the spot.

You cry out. Tears seep into the fabric of your blindfold and you can feel your pussy throbbing. “I'm sorry! I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’ll be good. I won’t do it again, I promise.”

Minho tilts his head, though you can’t see. “You promise, huh?”

You shakily settle your hips back on the bed, nodding. “Yes. Yesyes, I do. I can wait.”

Something shifts in the room. That teasing, playful atmosphere turns dark. You can taste Minho’s terrible thoughts in the air. You can feel how he drags the paddle a little more cunningly on your inner thigh.  

He continues to trail it along your leg as he says, “We’ll see about that. I think if I just keep slapping this cute pussy of yours, you’ll just cum anyway.”

“I won’t.” You don’t even believe it yourself, but maybe Minho will buy it.

He laughs. “Right. How about this? You keep your legs open for 10 minutes - just 10 minutes - and if you don’t cum, I’ll let you tie me up.”

Him? Left helpless and deprived like you are? It’s almost too good to be true. A trick clearly disguised as a treat, but you have to ask. “What?”

You feel the paddle back between your thighs. Minho soothes your swollen flesh in false gentleness. “What do you mean ‘what’? Just imagine our roles reversed. Think of it as getting revenge. That’s if you can manage, though.”

Minho would look beautiful bound. His smirking face fading into lost pleasure. His cocky attitude turning needy. Domming isn’t really your thing in this relationship, but you’d be damned to pass up on this opportunity. 

You’re already nodding before the words come out. “Yes. Fuck yes. I can do it.”

When he laughs, it sounds far more genuine this time. Like the idea of you merely thinking you can win is hilarious to him. “Really? Okay then.” Minho pulls the paddle away again and you immediately tighten your body. You wait for the sting, the pain, the blinding pleasure, but all you feel is soft lips.

He giggles into your folds, “Good luck.”

[choerrysjubiles]

Teen Hearts Beating Faster, Faster

pairing: virgin!wonbin x fem!reader

warning: jealous!bin :], jealous!bin confessing his feelings :D, smut, protected sex, premature ejaculation, aftercare, brief mention of food (not sexual)

wc: 3.7k

a/n: love u wonnie also the ryan in the fic is ryan ross hehehe I've been obsessively rewatching live in denver and I gotta write abt my bbygirl

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Wonbin had a decent amount of patience.

He had the patience for when professors scolded him for the work they misgraded. Even after tests were graded wrong, he sat back and waited for them to realize the mistake. Sighing in relief as they changed his grade, knowing he was the correct one.

He had patience for long hours at their dance studio. When choreographers continuously scolded them and yelled even as their bodies grew tired and were close to dropping. When he would force his lips shut as he heard the same droning words being shouted at him and his teammates.

Even among his friends, Wonbin was patient. Waiting for them to cool down, realizing they were both loud and wrong in the argument. Realizing the solution, he let it slide, as they looked at him in remorse. Not wanting to make another show of something, Wonbin let it slide as they continued doing whatever started the argument.

Something he didn't have patience for was that stupid guy, Ryan.

Ryan, some lame guitarist from a band y/n's become obsessed with. It seemed that was all she could talk about. The second he heard that name, Wonbin scowled.

Ryan's playing here, Ryan's sent me some demos, Ryan's sent me tickets to see them here or there. Ryan this, Ryan that.

Wonbin didn't even hate the guy. He was a decent musician; he played guitar well, even better than what Wonbin could play. But something boiled in him when you mentioned his name.

He couldn't even be jealous, Ryan had a girlfriend and he knew you would never do that. You were friends with his girlfriend, knowing each other even before Ryan dated her. But the idea of someone occupying y/n's thoughts more than her own friend, Wonbin, upset him beyond relief.

Was it because he's older? In a band? Was is the sweaty guy pheromones getting to y/n? Was that why she's so obsessed with Ryan?

But Wonbin bit his tongue and stayed quiet. He always did, never wanting to upset you even when you laughed and assured him you had no obsession or feelings or Ryan.

And even now, watching them play their set in some vacant building, Wonbin felt his jealousy grow. The way your eyes lit up when Ryan sang adlibs. The way you clapped and cheered when they finished a song. When you sang along to the same adlibs and backing vocals as Ryan. That especially made him upset.

Wonbin stayed still, armed crosses with a slight frown as he tried to enjoy their concert. Only some time left, then he'll be out of the temple of Ryan.

When their set was done, Wonbin and you walked out. Walking around to see if there was any restaurant or diner to grab something to eat before going home. When you finally made your way to Wonbin's car to drive home, you could sense something was up.

There was tension in the air, something being unsaid but desperately needed to be discussed. His hands gripped the steering wheel tighter, his arms flexed more, his face was unusually tight.

"You seem upset." Your voice was soft, not wanting to upset Wonbin.

"I'm not upset, why would I be upset?" He said, a little too fast to be convincible.

"You've been like this a couple of times. I just, I just wanna know whats going on? If you're okay?"

Your eyes were soft while your brows felt furrowed, something was really bothering him and knowing Wonbin, he'd rather bite his tongue than bring anything up.

Wonbin took a deep breath in, collecting his thoughts. The air was tense, it was hard to breathe, the pressure building every second longer he took to speak.

"I'm jealous of Ryan." It felt like Wonbin's head was gonna implode.

"Of Ryan?" You repeated.

"Yes of Ryan." He says, a little harsher than he wanted. "He's cool, he's all you ever talk about-"

"All I ever talk about? Wonbin, what do you mean?"

He turns slightly, cheeks flushed as he looks at you.

"It's almost like every time we meet up there's something new about Ryan. I know he's your friend but so am I."

You carefully nodded your head.

"I'm just." He sighs, "I feel myself becoming obsessed with you, or something."

Oh?

You sat in silence, mouth agape.

"And always hearing about that Ryan guy just pisses me off. I know he's older and more experience and cooler than me, but-"

"He's not." You laughed.

Wonbin stared at you. His eyes were wide, hair disheveled as he tried calming himself down to listen to you.

"I'm sorry I upset you." You made sure to keep eye contact. "Genuinely. But he's not that cool. He's kind of a dick to his fans, he often isolates himself when he's overwhelmed. He doesn't have a great temper."

"He does?" Wonbin leans a little closer to You, amused smile on his face.

"He's a cool guy to hang around because I like his band and I can get cheap tickets from him. But there's nothing more than that."

You grabbed his hand.

"I'm sorry I put you through hell. I wouldn't have done all that if I'd have known how you felt. I'm sorry."

"Can I kiss you?" He blurts out.

You blinked for a moment, you went lightheaded for a second before leaning in to give Wonbin a chaste peck on his lips. His face flushed even harder than earlier, he was sure you could feel the warmth radiating from him. Detaching from each other, Wonbin let out a whine.

Hearing him, you moved to the side of his face and pressed a kiss the corner of his mouth.

"I've never kissed someone before." He confessed.

"Really?" You asked, your voice was more curious than it could be teasing or taunting.

"Can we kiss more?" His eyes were shiny, scared you'd say no to him.

"Can we go somewhere more comfortable?" You asked.

"Y-yes, of course."

Wonbin turned the car on with fumbling hands, reversing and making their way to your apartment. The drive and walk up was agonizing. Every light turned red, every crosswalk had people walking, even the parking garage at her complex was filled.

Walking and standing in the elevator was torturous. Wonbin kept his hands on you, be it your arm or hand, to ensure this was real and not some dream.

Walking into your home, you latched onto each other. Your hands went straight to his neck, holding his still as your deepened their kiss. His hands nervously held onto your back before dropping to your waist.

You backed him to the couch, dropping down as he carefully hovered over you. His eyes nervously looked around your body.

"Do you wanna touch me?" You asked Wonbin.

"Yes." He barely spoke above a whisper, round eyes staring at you.

"Where?" You pressed.

He looked over you, every spot his eyes landed lasted around a second before he found another spot he wanted to touch.

Grabbing his hand, "I would like it if you touched here."

You guided his hand to your breast. Wonbin's breath hitched as he laid his hand onto you, scooting a hair closer.

"Don't be shy, come here." You egged him on.

He followed orders, moving closer. His hand stayed on your breast as he moved his other hand to your shoulder.

"Can I- uhm."

"You can do whatever, Bin."

He looked at her, seeing the assurance in your eyes, before moving his hands to massage your breasts. Thumbs swiping and moving into the fabrics of your shirt and bra.

"Do you wanna take it off?" You asked. "I know wanna take your shirt off."

"Can I?" He asked.

"Of course."

He grabbed at the bottom hem of his shirt, sliding it off of his body before moving to your shirt. His eyes widened with every inch of skin exposing. You leaned back into the couch as he pulled your shirt off, letting him eye you as you sunk down.

"Do you wanna move this somewhere else? Before we get into more?"

"Can we? I mean, yes. I-I would like that." His nervousness was cute.

You grabbed his hand, leading Wonbin to your bedroom. The lights were dim, your nightstand's lamp lighting the room in soft yellow lighting. Wonbin looked around, shocked at how similar yet different your room looked. Walking him towards your bed, Wonbin moved his hand to your shoulder, thumb playing with your bra strap.

"Can you take it off?" She asked him.

"How?"

"Here." You grabbed his hand.

Moving his hand to wrap around your backside. Holding onto his pointer finger and thumb, you helps him pinch the clasps. Your bra fell down, one strap falling down your shoulder to expose your breast as Wonbin stared down at the newly exposed skin.

You threw your bra to the side as he stared at your breasts. His hands shook as you grabbed them, pulling them upwards to cover your soft, warm skin. He carefully squeezed them, not wanting to hurt you. Thumbs rolling along your nipples, his eyes shot up at you when you let out a low sigh.

"Did that feel good?" He asked, leaning closer to you.

"Very." you closed your eyes.

He continued kneading your breasts, seeing what made you moan and sigh and what led to no reaction. Continuing to roll his thumbs along your nipples, growing the confidence to flick them and drink up the sighs you let out.

"Can we kiss again?" You asked. "You have really soft lips."

"Y-yeah."

He leaned over, lips softly merging before you kissed him again. His hands wrapped around your waist as you kissed, your tongue licking his bottom lip. Opening his mouth, he tasted your tongue as it swiped along his.

Wonbin let out a low moan. The feeling of your skin, your tongue, your lips, it's all so much. He slid his hands down to your ass, feeling himself fall against your bed as you climbed on top of him.

Your core sat right on top of his bulge, hips unintentionally grinding against him as he let out a strained groan.

"I'm sorry." You said, cheeks flushed.

"It's okay."

He breathed, thinking of what to do.

"Can you, mm, teach me something?" He asked shyly.

"What?"

"I wanna eat you out. I've just, never, uhm."

You felt your core grow wetter. His flushed cheeks, eyes looking anywhere but you. You wanted to savor this moment, this vulnerability from him.

"Where do you want me?" You asked, voice full of desire.

"Huh?" He said, unsure of what you mean.

"Should I sit on your face? Or do you want me laying down? Should we, like, 69?"

Wonbin flushed at your words.

"Uhm. Maybe you, uh, laying down."

You nodded, removing your pants before moving to lay down. Your knees were decently far apart, wanting Wonbin to move them to see your panties as he would lean into your pussy.

He looked around nervously, "Can you, you know, tell me how to, um."

"Do you want to lay on the bed or kneel on the floor?"

"Maybe the floor." He dropped onto the floor, settling along the edge.

You scooted to the edge of the bed, knees spread to each side of Wonbin's wide shoulders. His wide, shiny eyes stared at the wet spot on your underwear, his hands resting on your knees.

You leaned back, hands grabbing his leading them to your waistband. He caught on to pull them down, dragging them off down your legs before tossing them to the side. He leaned in to your pussy, seeing how wet it was.

He gently brought his hand to your core, cupping your vulva and feeling how much slick was dripping out of you. Gasping, you felt how warm his hand was against you.

"I thought you were eating me out." You whined.

Wonbin chuckled before leaning in, stretching your thighs to allow his head in. He let your thighs rest on his shoulders, something he's sure he's seen in a porno or two.

He gave a small lick, hearing your breathing hitch. His tongue was sharp and pointed, like he catching as much of your precum as he could gather. Taking another lick, he tasted the depth of your cum. The slight saltiness and overwhelming sweet taste.

He couldn't quite tell what you tasted like, having nothing similar to your cum, ever. His cum was far saltier, musky, even. But this was different. Were all girls like this or just you?

You were enjoying this feeling, his hot tongue licking at every inch of your pussy as you laid there panting. You felt your hand inch towards him, grabbing onto his head to steady yourself.

He continued licking at you, getting drunk on the taste of your honey. Flattening his tongue as he lapped at you, unknowingly teasing your clit with a lack of stimulation.

"Binnie, please." You whined.

He lifted his head, slick dripping down his mouth, "What's wrong?"

"Lick my clit more. I'm going insane, Bin." Your head popped up to look at him.

You felt a wave of slick pour out of you when you looked down at him. Eyes blown out, mouth glistening with your cum, his hot breaths teasing your pussy.

"Up here?" A string of your arousal clung to his lips as his eyes shot to your clit before bringing his hand up to flick at it.

"Yes!" You gasped, thighs clenching together as you fell back onto the mattress.

Wonbin smiled as he went back in to eat you. Tongue stiffening to prod at your clit before slurping up the wetness dripping out of you. Every move he did he saw you twitch and squirm.

"Wait, fuck, yes! Right there, right there."

His confidence kept growing seeing you fall apart from him. Your back continuing to arch off of the bed, Wonbin continued licking at you, nose bumping into your clit as he felt you stiffen. A long drawn out moan escaping your lips as your pussy dripped your cum onto his tongue.

Pulling away, Wonbin looks up at you. Ragged breaths as you're still gripping the bedsheets. Your legs, still folded, are shaking as he rubs your thighs in an attempt to comfort and relax you.

"I thought you said you were a virgin."

"I am." He says shyly.

"You're either a liar or are too good at following directions." You laughed.

You laid there until your breath steadied. Wonbin crawled up the bed, sitting beside you. You were overwhelmed with how hard that orgasm felt, no man's been that good at eating pussy. Wonbin watched your breathing, how much air was sucked into your ribcage, the sheen of sweat along your breasts, how hard your nipples became as the air cooled.

Leaning up on your elbow, "Do you want me to help you with that?"

Y/n stared at his tight bulge.

"Can we have sex?" His eyes were wide, scared you'd say no.

"Yeah, of course we can."

His shoulders relaxed. Taking his pants and boxers off, Wonbin felt a little exposed. He's never been naked in front of anyone, looking over you're not even paying attention to his body. You're looking at his face, his cheeks? Somewhere, studying his reactions, maybe.

You lean over to your nightstand, opening the drawer to take out a loose condom, tossing it to Wonbin you ask if he knows how to put one on.

"No."

"Come here." You wave his over.

Wonbin crawls towards you, his hard dick standing tall as you begin to unwrap the foil.

"This might feel a little weird." You warn.

You roll the condom down his length, the cold lube made Wonbin hiss. Fully covered, you grab onto the tip and pull it upwards, suctioning it onto him.

"What position would you like?"

"Can you ride me?"

You blinked, surprised at his request.

"Sure, get comfortable." You motion to your bed.

"I'm sorry, I should be-"

"No way, this is your first time, I gotta treat my baby right."

Wonbin felt his heart skip when you called him her baby. He moved to lay down, you pushed some pillows together to give him better cushioning as well as a better new.

You straddled his lap before teasing his tip along your folds, Wonbin's hands grabbed at your hips, rubbing and squeezing the flesh as you got into position.

Slowly dropping down onto him, Wonbin began squeezing you, a soft moan escaping him as his eyes were glued to your pussy. He was amazed at how you felt: soft, tight walls clinging around him as you sank lower and lower. He didn't know how deep your womb could get but he was an almost perfect fit.

Your walls clung around him as you sunk lower. Dropping into his lap, you saw Wonbin wide-eyed and panting.

"Are you okay?" You leaned in, worried about him.

"You're so fucking tight."

You smiled, leaning in to kiss his forehead. He craned his head to kiss your lips, sitting up more to continue kissing you.

"Can I move?" You asked, mouth moving to his cheek and jawbone.

"Yeah." He was breathless.

You left a wet kiss onto his jugular as you lifted yourself and pushed back down.

"Shit." He moaned, grabbing your hair to kiss you. His wet tongue began licking the inside of your mouth.

Bouncing more, his grip tightened as he let out a slew of moans. You felt different, there was something insatiable about being on top of Wonbin. Not just that you two were friends, but he was falling apart so soon.

"Wait, fuck, slow down." He begged.

As you were going to plant yourself down, Wonbin's face tightened. He let out a strangled moan, teeth biting his lip to stop himself. Looking at your face, his eyes became teary as his breathing became ragged.

"Fuck."

"I'm so sorry." You said.

"You're," He breathed, "you're fine, it's me who-"

You pulled off of him, gaining a strained groan from Wonbin.

He looked over to this side, "This is embarrassing."

"It happens to everyone."

"Everyone?"

"Mostly guys, but you can't help that."

Wonbin took the condom off, tying it and tossing it in your trash bin.

"Can i still make you cum?" He looked at you shyly.

"Do you wanna?"

"Yeah."

"Sure, you can finger me. How do you want me?"

Wonbin sat up on his knees, wondering where they could move.

"Can I finger you, like, doggy style?" He asked shyly.

Oh?

"Yeah." Your cheeks felt warm hearing such a lewd answer.

You tucked some pillows under you as you bent onto them, ass on display for Wonbin. You felt a shiver run down your body as his hands rubbed your hip, something exciting about not knowing his next move. His hand swiped down to your ass.

He was fascinated with your body, seeing what parts were plump and fleshy and which ones weren't. His hands stroked along your ass, thumb prodding at your core to feel how wet you were. Wonbin noticed the arousal dripping down your thigh as he carefully pushed his pointer finger in.

"Mmm." You moaned.

Wonbin continued thrusting his finger in and out, feeling around your walls as he moved. Your legs began shaking a little, the sense deprivation was really getting to you.

As Wonbin inserted another finger, his free hand snuck by your hip to rub your clit, feeling the erect nub as he stimulated you.

"Wonbin, ahh." You moaned. "Mmm, can you go harder?"

"Harder?"

"Please."

He began pumping his fingers in and out, carefully tapping your clit as he fingered you.

"Fuck you're making my dick hard again."

"Put it in." You moaned.

Wonbin tore his hands away, quickly getting into your drawer to grab another condom. He tried remembering what you showed him as he tore the foil and rolled it on. He remembered how your hands looked at he pulled the tip lightly, suctioning it on.

Standing on his knees, he aligned himself with your core, take a breath as he was still sensitive from earlier.

Pushing in, he felt his hips begin bucking in and out.

Aligned at her core, Wonbin inserted himself. Still so sensitive from his orgasm earlier.

"Fuck, you're even tighter."

"Rub my clit, Binnie."

He followed orders and messily rubbed your clit, heryourwalls beginning to clench even tighter around him. His hips thrusting harshly into you, so much he almost slipped out.

"Yes, yes, fuck! Wonbin!"

His hips continued thrusting as he felt you tighten around him with a loud moan. The sensation was too much as he felt himself cum in the condom. His large hands wrapped around your hips tightly as emptied himself.

He could barely pull himself out, the feeling so painful and pleasureful. Carefully, after some breaths, Wonbin pulled out, pulling the condom off before dumping it into your trash can, again.

He felt his body collapse next to you as you were adjusting to lay on your back.

"So." You were still panting. "Was that a good first time?" You had a wide smile, looking over at Wonbin.

"Yeah, it was memorable, at the least."

You laughed, turning on your side to look at him.

"Did you want me to help clean you up?" She asked, grabbing his hand.

"Not now, I wanna relax for a moment."

"Yeah." You said, grabbing at one of your blankets to cover him.

"Thank you," He said, "your apartment is really cold."

"This is not the pillow talk I was expecting, Bin."

He laughed, scooting closer to keep warm. Laying together, they mostly held each other while only talking sparingly.

"Here." You said, leaning over to your nightstand.

You opened your drawer to take out a baby wipe.

"Baby wipes?"

"For clean up." You defended yourself.

"You clean up with baby wipes?"

"You're expected me to hand you some rough wash cloth as a cum rag? No, they're great for cleaning up after sex."

You helped him clean himself, wiping some dried cum off of his face, grabbing another for his dick.

"Too cold!" He yelped.

"You're being a baby." You laughed.

[perfectlyoongi]

ROOMMATE!JUNGKOOK who bakes cakes with you in the early hours of the morning when the whole city is still asleep. three or four in the morning were sacred hours in your house as autumn approached. with matching aprons and wine glasses in hand, you and Jungkook followed instructions as disorganized as possible, hoping to find some cake batter or cookies in the midst of your laughter. the music played low, remaining completely silent when you and Jungkook exchanged jokes and visions, but always lulling you into a little dance that lasted the entire morning. at six in the morning you sat at the table tasting your creation before saying goodbye and falling asleep in your rooms. “today i want an orange cake. i know it’s late, but do you want to do one with me? i found two recipes that might be good. i’ll even let you have the first slice.”

ROOMMATE!JUNGKOOK who has a collection of photos and videos of you that you might consider embarrassing. Jungkook seemed to have a certain gift when it came to humiliating you: whenever you were distracted, or too involved in something, Jungkook made a point of saving everything on his phone, creating a folder in his gallery with just your photos. you could say it was a hobby of Jungkook’s that always made him happy, as it was in these more personal moments that your soul truly shined and oh, how he was in love with that light. “you are so done on your birthday. you’ll see, i’ll post the photos i took of you in the car yesterday. you were beautiful. the world needs to see your natural beauty.”

ROOMMATE!JUNGKOOK who always orders your favorite pizza when he doesn’t feel like cooking. you shared the household chores, it was an agreement that was quickly made by you as soon as you became housemates; but there were days when Jungkook came home more tired, or even after dinner, and there was no desire or patience to cook. as such, Jungkook would order your favorite pizza from your favorite pizzeria and, after paying for it, he would call you over for dinner while he went to bed. in a way, you were always Jungkook’s priority. “hi, the work ran a little late today, sorry. i already called for your favorite pizza and you have the money here. i hope you eat well. i’m really tired. good night, angel. good night.”

ROOMMATE!JUNGKOOK who buys letter magnets to communicate with you on the fridge when your are mismatched. there were times when you would get home when Jungkook had just left. there were times when Jungkook would go to sleep when you were preparing lunch. there were days when you didn’t even see each other. but as you shared a house, communication was essential to make that experience comforting. so Jungkook bought a large number of colorful magnets in the shapes of letters for you to use as a means of communication. they were only used for basic things, of course, but it was still a very tender gesture on Jungkook’s part. “buy bread. dinner 8pm. seal.”

ROOMMATE!JUNGKOOK who always gives you a ride in winter, even if it’s just to get bread. Jungkook was so warm and helpful. if you needed something he was there to make sure you didn’t miss anything. and, when the weather was more brutal, with snow and rain decorating the streets, Jungkook always made a point of taking you wherever you needed to go, secretly keeping in his heart all the streets shared with you, shouting the most popular songs in the radio. it could be mere minutes, but it was enough to leave Jungkook completely surrendered to you. “don’t be stupid. with this cold? you may get sick and then what? i don’t know how to take care of myself, let alone you! I’m looking out for your well-being, that’s all.”

ROOMMATE!JUNGKOOK who plays drunk uno with you on long summer nights. when the boredom was a lot and the nights were too hot, you and Jungkook decided to distract yourself with a simple game of cards. changing some of the rules, you and Jungkook agreed to play several games of uno until one of you was too happy to continue. there were screams and laughter, a lot of cheating and distortions, long nights enveloped in pure happiness and complicity. without there ever being a loser, but also without any winner, you and Jungkook repeated the game on the hottest and most boring nights, each of you needing the other’s presence to make that summer something unforgettable. “no, no! you can’t put a +4 after i told you to take 2! stop being a cheater and accept your defeat. no. put the card back into your deck!”

ROOMMATE!JUNGKOOK who declares himself to you when the storm stole all the light in your house. several candles were scattered around your living room in an attempt to bring some comfort in that darkness. sitting on the couch without having much to do, you and Jungkook watched time pass slowly. a long period of silence danced around the various flames, stealing all your comfort and offering Jungkook a small door for him to finally open up to you. and it was when you went to get water that Jungkook followed you to the kitchen and, very confused and nervous, finally confessed to you. “i don’t know if it’s the candles that are making me nostalgic or if it’s really your company, but i want to tell you something. i like you. a lot. i don’t think i should like you this much but i have no control over my feelings for you.”

[m00nchildwrites]

Random headcanons I have of the LADS guys:

I hope you guys enjoy this little head cannon post that I have about the guys. I'm going to put it under a read more just because it's quite long. It is no triggering content or adult content. All fluff all feels.

Enjoy.

Sylus:

Keeps journals. He has bookcases upon bookcases, filled with journals. All of them are leatherbound, but none of them match. Varying sizes and thicknesses various dark colors from maroon to dark green to black to golden and everything in between. All handwritten, all cursive with expensive ink dipped pens.

He also writes poetry that tends to be more prosy. Each of the poems are about you in some way, whether it's a memory or something about you that he misses or fears about the memories of you fading.

When he meets you again, the poems become hopeful and longing and eventually evolve back into love poems

Kioso tens to write song lyrics and unfortunately has performed one or two for you.

Yes, it's the thought that counts, but the poor man can't carry a tune. Still, the words are so sweet that you end up tearing up anyways.

And no matter how poorly he sings, you will never turn down him reading one of his poems to you or yes, even singing one of the songs that he wrote.

Zayne:

I see Zayne also as someone who keeps journals. Although his are different than Sylas'.

All of Zane's journals are on a singular, large, wall-to-wall bookshelf in his Home Office. All are perfectly identical. Each is sleek, a leatherbound, and either black or dark gray. Think like a moleskin journal, and if you weren't him, you wouldn't know which one is which, but he knows exactly which one is which, for he keeps them in chronological order.

Each of the pages is handwritten by pen in his slightly slanted, messy but legible doctor's handwriting.

Each starting from the first one on the top shelf details, everything that he can remember about 1 of yours and his pass lives together.

And rather, morbidly an excruciating detail heed. He writes out exactly how you died in the events leading up to and afterwards.

You might wonder why in the world does he do this? It's because he is studying every instance that went wrong and trying to find a loophole in a way out of the the curse that Astra has places upon you both.

In these journals, your name is never mentioned, and they are written out like case notes from his patients. So whenever you do stumble upon them, write them off. As simply him keeping detailed case notes of patient's life and death, since all of the deaths have to do with something with the heart or heart trauma, our heart disease or our heart failure of some kind.

It is not until either you regain your memories or zayn. Finally tells you about your past lives and his that you also learn the true story about the journals. Until then, they are simply a collection of case studies in his home office.

Rafayel:

Rafael has no need for journals because his memories he brings to life through his paintings.

Let's be honest.He also doesn't have the patience to sit down and fill up a bunch of journals. Not because his hyperactive persona is true, but because if he allows himself to sit still long. Enough with his thoughts, he gets real dark, real quick. This man wears a mask for the world, but also for himself.

That said he does sing.

Shocker, right? He's a mermaid or a siren or both. However, I have the head cannon that he can switch the siren thing on and off. And so is fully capable of simply singing, however, for him, because he is Lemurian, his "simple singing" is etherealy gorgeous.

Because of this, he only does it in the privacy of his own home when no one is around, except for that short little stint, that he had as an opera singer. But of course, that was for darker purposes and not for enjoyment.

He sings songs that he has written about you. All of them are in ancient tongues, long since passed and faded away to time. And all of them from the different lifetimes that he met you in.

Some songs he sings when he's feeling especially heartbroken and caught up in memories of the past, or overwhelmed with his feelings for you, and those songs are sung in his native tongue- Lemurian.

At first, whenever he is painting or in the zone, doing something and drifting off into a daydream, he hums around you.

Eventually, however, as he allows himself to trust that you're not going anywhere this time and uh relaxes his guard. Enough to allow himself to fall for you again and let you in. Eventually, one night when it's just the 2 of you and the windows are open and the ocean breeze is billowing the sheer, white curtains of his livingroom, the tune He's humming to you, as you lean back against his chest slowly begins to have words.

You don't know the words that he sang, they feel ancient.

But you feel the emotion in the words and by the end of it, you have tears running down your face and the overwhelming urge to hold him tightly and never let him go

The second time he sings for you is less heartbreaking and more warmth and an overwhelming feeling of love.

On days when it's just the two of you, he will sing just for you.

Xavier:

Xavier does not keep journals. However, he did enjoy his captain logs on his ship. And so that is a habit that he has kept with him.

Every once in a while, he will go back to a ship and and enter a new captain's log. All of it has to do with information about you and him trying to find a way to save you from the eventual Fate that awaits in the future on planet Philos.

Periodically a poem will also make an appearance one that he read in a book that stood out to him and reminded him of you.

Sometimes, before you two get close, he'd go to the ship and listen to his pass logs. And remember the you he left behind on that dying planet.

Xavier also sings, and he actually sings quite well for a human. So well, in fact, that one time karaoke with the hunters association, an agency attempted to scout him. (I picture his voice like Keshi- soft spot. If you haven't heard it, listen to it.)

This hidden talent comes as surprise to you. The first time that you hear him, add that karaoke event.

Of course. You knew that he enjoyed music because you often caught him humming when he was doing things around the house or helping you chop vegetables whenever y'all cook together. There was also his record collection that was a dead giveaway. As well.

He doesn't write songs for you, but he will sing songs to you. That make him think of you at first, it's subtle and without him really letting you know, but that's what he's doing. Perhaps you think the 2 of you are just playing around and both of you are singing songs that come on the radio. But eventually, as you get closer, it becomes clear, but it's not by chance- the songs that he picks to sing.

Your favorite is when he sings to you softly. As you rock back-and-forth, slow dancing in your apartment or his or on the balcony, the location doesn't matter.

Somehow, some way swaying softly to the sound of his voice feels like coming home after a long, long journey.

He does also occasionally read to you a poem.

And sometimes you find out the poem, he said aloud to you was actually written by him, and eventually you learn that they were all about you.

[btsxmalereaders]

I'll be There

>pairing —seo changbin x trans!male reader >genre — fluff, a bit angsty >summary —  When you're overwhelmed by the return of your period and feelings of dysphoria, Changbin steps in with quiet care and love, proving that even in the hardest moments you're never alone. >word count — 3,7k >a/n: idk how this happened i was planning on writing something short and fluffy but yeah, anyway... I hope you like it! This is my first time posting in a long while but luckily i'm on my winter break, so i'll catch up with reqs! thank you so much for your patience and support xoxo >warnings: dysphoria, menstrual themes.

“Alright, sounds good. How about next week? If I remember correctly, we have to record the dance practice for the title track.” Chan says and immediately looks at everyone’s reactions. 

You all are practicing for the upcoming comeback, recording videos for promotion, practicing nonstop the different choreographies, attending meetings, recording some songs, practicing again, recording many more things for different platforms and doing many other interviews. It is exhausting, sometimes, but you all think it is worth it when seeing the results of your hard work. 

“Yeah, next week seems fine.” Hyunjin agrees out loud meanwhile the rest of you just nod and stand up as today’s practice has finished. “I guess we could go live after recording the practice, and tease a bit about the comeback.”

Chan gives a few last indications and stays a bit talking to the staff while you start collecting your stuff and getting ready to go back to the dorm. It’s late, and you still need to get up early for tomorrow’s activities. As you walk back to the lockers you let out a deep sigh; your head has been hurting a lot and you could only owe it to the sleepless nights and continuous work. Changbin's eyes flicker to you as you try to gather your stuff, clearly in discomfort but not saying anything. He knows you better than anyone, especially after the months you've been together, but there’s still a certain sense of care and sensitivity he approaches your health with.

“Hey,” He murmurs softly as he grabs your bag before you could even touch it. “Are you okay?” Changbin asks, snapping you out of your thoughts. 

You nod and give him a weak smile. “Yeah, just a little worn out. I’ll be fine.”

He doesn’t buy it, not for a second. He knows you enough to tell you were feeling bad; he has noticed how in this whole time in the practice room you didn’t say a word, only when you were asked to. The groans you let out as a sign of tiredness and discomfort wasn’t something he overlooked. “You sure? You’re still not looking like yourself. Do you want me to get you something?”

Before you can respond, he walks ahead of you, his phone already out. You’re not sure who he’s messaging, but by the time you walk out of the room, he’s holding some painkillers and a water bottle in his hands. “Here, love. Take this and let’s get you something to eat, alright? I’m making dinner tonight.”

You look up at Changbin, a bit surprised but mostly grateful. He’s always been the thoughtful one, noticing the smallest details when you’re not feeling your best. The thought of dinner sounds comforting, but you’re not sure if you have the energy to eat.

“I don’t know, I’m really not feeling great,” you mutter, rubbing your temples as the headache intensifies.

He shakes his head with that soft, concerned smile of his. "That’s exactly why you need to eat. And no arguing with me. You know I can’t let you starve, especially when you're like this."

You let out a tired laugh. "You’re really spoiling me, aren’t you?"

He winks, his grin widening. "Someone has to take care of you, especially when you're too stubborn to do it yourself."

You smile at him, feeling a little lighter, and let him lead you out of the building into the car waiting for you, his arm gently guiding you along. As all of you make your way back to the dorm, Jeongin, Minho and Felix are engaging in an interesting debate about which one is the best Pokémon, Hyunjin seems to be focused on something on his phone and Seungmin, Han and Chan are discussing details of their agenda. But Changbin keeps glancing over at you, his eyes filled with concern, making sure you're comfortable. You find it endearing, the way he always looks after you, even in the smallest of ways.

When you finally get back to the dorm, the first thing Changbin does is usher you to the couch, throwing a blanket over your shoulders before even thinking about starting dinner. You sink into the cushions, letting the comfort of the blanket wrap around you as you watch him bustle around the kitchen. He’s surprisingly good at cooking, something you learned early on in your relationship, and you can't help but admire the way he moves so effortlessly, his focus entirely on making sure you're okay.

"Sit back, relax. I’ve got it from here," he says, glancing over his shoulder with a teasing grin. "I’m the chef tonight."

Everyone seemed to catch up on you feeling a bit down so they do their best on not making too much noise and check up on you constantly. Felix has put on your favorite movie and Jeongin prepared you a warm bath; which you truly appreciated. 

You were nearly sleeping on the couch as the warm water made you feel more tired, but Changbin finished cooking quickly with the help of Minho as well. You all gather at the table and try not to discuss work themes; everyone seemed to be tired of it as well, so a new rule you all agreed on was not to bring those matters to the dorm; just try to relax and catch a break from all the stress it implied.

“I’ll wash the dishes tonight, everyone just go to sleep.” Chan murmurs and everyone thanks him with a smile. You smile and stand up, rushing to your bedroom and hurrying to prepare for sleep.

Changbin walks in a few minutes later, still with a look of concern on his face. You exit the bathroom and yawn. 

“How are you feeling now?” He asks as he starts to get ready too. You just get in bed and sigh.

You close your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. Your head still hurts, but it’s not as intense as before, and the comfort of your bed helps ease the tension in your muscles.

"I’m okay now, I think," you reply, your voice softer than usual. “The bath really helped... and dinner was perfect, as always, so thank you. I feel... I don’t know, just a little less heavy.”

Changbin walks over to the bed, his expression softening even more as he sits next to you. He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his touch gentle and caring.

You chuckle softly, closing your eyes for a moment. As much as you love seeing him take care of you, you can’t help but feel a little guilty. He deserves the same care and attention, but you’ve been too caught up in your own exhaustion to give him the same.

"I’m sorry for being such a mess lately," you murmur, barely audible.

Changbin stops mid-motion, "You’re not a mess. You're allowed to be tired, and you're allowed to ask for help when you need it. I’m here for all of it, alright? Just… don’t shut me out."

You look up at him, his eyes so full of understanding, and you feel your chest tighten with appreciation. He doesn’t want anything in return; he just wants to be there for you, in whatever way you need.

“I love you so much,” you whisper, your voice a little shaky.

He smiles softly, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “I love you more, and I’ll always be here. You don’t have to thank me. Just… focus on getting better, okay?"

You nod, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. Maybe you were running on empty, but with Changbin by your side, you knew you could face anything. Even the toughest days would feel a little easier with him there to support you.

Truth is, Changbin has been a gift sent from heaven. It was so easy for you two to connect, to develop something greater than a friendship; it was so natural, so meant to happen. You loved every single one of your friends, you even considered them your family; but with Changbin you just knew you were meant to be together as something more. He often liked to say you were like an extension of himself, of his soul. 

At the beginning you were just a mess of nerves and fear. You were confident in your identity and being, it was the people’s reaction what made you feel worried. The thought of being misunderstood, judged, or treated differently because of who you were felt like a heavy weight on your chest. But over time, you learned to trust yourself more, to lean into your confidence, even when doubt crept in. 

What made it all bearable, though, was finding the right people to stick by your side, people who saw you for who you truly were. Changbin was one of them. He never once faltered in his support. From the very beginning, when you had confided in him about your fears and insecurities, he was unwavering in his care and understanding. He made sure you always knew that your identity, your truth, was something beautiful in his eyes. He never made you feel like a burden, never pushed you to change, just accepted you fully, as you were.

You’d been together for a while now, but it wasn’t something you could just throw out to the fans. Being a part of Stray Kids has always been an exciting, rewarding journey, but it also came with its own challenges, especially in the industry you’re in, where image and expectations are everything. Things are fine as they are now; calm, private, and under control.

“I’m really lucky, aren’t I?” you murmur softly, nestling deeper into Changbin’s embrace.

He tightens his hold on you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “No,” he replies, his voice filled with warmth. “I’m the lucky one.”

You smile, feeling the warmth of his words settle in your chest. It’s a quiet moment, but in it, you feel like everything is right.

"Yeah," you whisper, your eyes fluttering closed, "we're both lucky."

He hums softly in agreement, his thumb gently brushing against your arm as the two of you drift into a peaceful sleep.

——————————————————————————————————

The next week rolls around, and practice is as intense as ever. The comeback is just around the corner, and everyone is pushing hard to perfect every move and note. You’ve been working non-stop, barely catching a break, and the exhaustion is starting to take its toll. The symptoms had been there all week, the fatigue, headaches, cramps, but you convinced yourself it was just the stress of all the rehearsals, meetings, and promotions. After all, you’ve been on testosterone for months, and your periods had been absent, so you didn’t expect to deal with them again. But as the day goes on, the cramps intensify, and that’s when it hits you: Oh no. You’re getting your period.

You try to push through, focusing on the choreography and not letting yourself get distracted, but the pain becomes unbearable. You’re still moving, but it’s sluggish, like your body isn’t responding the way it should. Your stomach twists with each step, the cramps growing sharper, and you can feel your face flush. This isn’t just from stress, you think. It’s the real deal.

You’re about to say something when Changbin notices first. He’s always been quick to read your expressions, and today is no different. He pauses mid-step, his eyes catching yours, and something in his expression shifts. There’s a sudden concern there that makes you freeze. He knows.

"Hey," he murmurs, stepping closer, his hand resting gently on your shoulder. "Are you okay? You don’t look so good."

You try to force a smile, but it feels weak. “I’m fine. Just tired, but I’ll catch up, honestly. I’ll be alright.”

Changbin sighs. His eyes flicker over you again, noticing the way you’re holding your stomach and the tightness in your posture. “You’re sweating, and you’re holding your stomach. It’s more than just being tired, isn’t it?”

You let out a shaky breath, trying to ignore the building anxiety in your chest. “I think I’m about to start my period…” you say in a quiet voice, almost embarrassed to admit it. You don’t want to make a scene, especially not in front of the team, but it’s hard to ignore the truth. You had thought the testosterone would stop your periods for good, and now, to have them come back so unexpectedly, it’s a shock. A panic starts to rise in your chest. 

Changbin’s face softens, and he immediately takes a step closer, his expression filled with concern. “Hey, it’s okay. Don’t stress about it. We’ll figure it out.”

But you can’t help the worry that settles in your gut. You hadn’t expected this, and now it feels like everything’s coming undone. What if something’s wrong? What if I’m not supposed to have this anymore?

Before you can spiral into those thoughts, Changbin is already taking charge. He walks over to Chan and the staff, speaking to them in quiet tones. You can hear a few words exchanged, but the conversation feels distant as the pain continues to rise. You want to push through, to keep going, but the cramps are unbearable. You can barely stand up straight, and your body feels like it’s shutting down.

When Changbin comes back, he kneels down in front of you, his hand resting gently on your knee. “They’re good with everything. You don’t need to worry about the live or rehearsal for now. We’ll handle it.”

You open your mouth to protest, but the words get stuck in your throat. The thought of letting everyone down, especially when they’ve been counting on you, makes your chest tighten. You swallow hard, the weight of it all starting to sink in. “I feel like I’m failing, though. Everyone’s expecting me to be there, and I can’t even keep it together.”

Changbin takes your hand in his, squeezing it gently. “You’re not failing. Taking care of yourself doesn’t make you weak. You’ve been working so hard, and you’ve got us. We’ve got your back, okay?”

His words ease the tightness in your chest, but the anxiety is still there, lingering in the back of your mind. You don’t want to feel like a burden, especially not to Changbin. But his reassuring smile and calm presence give you the comfort you need to let go of some of that fear.

He stands up, brushing a hand through your hair before looking down at you with a soft expression. “I’ll make sure everything’s taken care of. Let’s get you home, alright?”

As Changbin helps you out of the practice room and toward the car waiting to take you home, the guilt starts creeping in again. You’re quiet for most of the ride, staring out of the window, your mind racing. Why now? Why did this have to happen now of all times? What if the guys are mad at me? What if this keeps happening? What if something’s wrong with my body?

Changbin doesn’t press you to talk, though. He keeps his hand resting on yours, his thumb tracing calming circles over your knuckles. Every now and then, he glances over, but he knows you need the space to work through your thoughts, even if they’re running wild.

When you finally get back to the dorm, the silence feels heavier. As soon as the door closes behind you, it’s like the emotions you’ve been holding back all day come flooding in. You drop your bag to the floor, your shoulders shaking as tears start to spill. You’re angry at your body for betraying you, frustrated with yourself for not noticing the symptoms sooner, and overwhelmed by the thought of not being there for the team.

Changbin is by your side in an instant, gently pulling you into his arms. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice soft and grounding. “You’re okay. Just let it out.”

“I’m sorry,” you choke out, clinging to him. “I didn’t mean to-- this wasn’t supposed to happen, Binnie. I thought I was done with this. What if it doesn’t stop? What if something’s wrong with me? And now I’m missing practice and the live, and everyone’s going to think I’m slacking or--”

“Stop,” he cuts in gently but firmly, pulling back just enough to cup your face in his hands. His eyes meet yours, steady and full of reassurance. “None of that is true. You’re not slacking, and you’re not failing. Your body’s doing something unexpected, yeah, but it doesn’t mean anything’s wrong with you. It’s just a part of the process, okay? You’re doing your best, and that’s all anyone can ask for.”

His words break through the storm in your head just enough to make you pause, but the tears keep coming. You bury your face in his chest, letting yourself cry as he holds you tightly.

Meanwhile, back at the studio, the rest of the group has gone live. They’re chatting with fans, teasing the comeback, and answering questions, but your absence hasn’t gone unnoticed.

Where’s ______?, one fan asks in the chat, echoed by several others, as well asking for Changbin.

Chan steps in smoothly, his tone light but comforting. “Ah, ____ wasn’t feeling well today, so he’s resting. Don’t worry, he’ll be back soon! We’re taking good care of him. Changbinnie is making sure he is doing fine.”

The chat floods with messages of support and concern, and the members take turns reassuring the fans, making sure the focus stays positive. Changbin had already briefed them before he left, and you know they’ve got your back. But that doesn’t stop the guilt from gnawing at you as you picture them carrying on without you.

“See?” Changbin whispers as he rubs soothing circles on your back, as if he can sense your spiraling thoughts. “They’re all handling it just fine. No one’s upset, and the fans are being super supportive. You’re not letting anyone down, love. You’re just human.”

You sniffle, wiping at your face as you pull back slightly to look at him. “I just hate feeling like I’m not doing enough. And this stupid period is making me feel worse.”

“You’re doing more than enough,” he insists, brushing a tear off your cheek with his thumb. “You push yourself so hard every day, and it’s okay to take a step back when you need to. That doesn’t make you any less important to the team, or to me.”

You sigh and feel more tears streaming down your face. A silence fills the room for a moment as you collect your thoughts. Changbin clears the traces. “What else are you thinking of?”

“I feel… so out of place,” you whisper, voice cracking. “It’s like my own body is against me. I thought I was past this. I’ve been on T for years, and I’ve been doing everything right, but it still comes back, Binnie. I feel like I’m back at square one, like I’m not even–”

“Hey,” he interrupts softly but firmly, wrapping his arms around you tighter. “Don’t say that. You’re exactly who you’re meant to be. None of this changes that, not even for a second.”

“But it feels like it does,” you cry, voice trembling. “It feels like no matter what I do, I’m stuck in a body that doesn’t feel like mine. And now this, on top of everything else– I just feel so overwhelmed, like I can’t catch a break.”

Changbin takes a deep breath, holding you close as he thinks carefully about what to say. “I can’t pretend to fully understand how this feels for you,” he starts quietly. “But I do know that it doesn’t make you any less of the amazing, strong person that you are. You’ve been through so much, and you’ve come so far. One bad day, or even a bad week, doesn’t undo all of that.”

His words don’t fix everything, but they cut through the noise in your head just enough to ground you. You grip his arm tightly, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing, and it helps pull you back to the present.

“It just feels so unfair,” you murmur after a moment. “I’m so tired of this fight.”

“I know, love,” he whispers, resting his chin on top of your head. “I hate that you have to go through this, but you don’t have to do it alone. I’m here for you, always. Whatever you need; space, comfort, distraction, I’ll do it. You just have to tell me.”

You let out a shaky breath, your body slowly relaxing into his. “I don’t even know what I need right now,” you admit.

“That’s okay,” he says gently, his hand moving to rub soothing circles on your back. “We’ll figure it out together. For now, just focus on breathing, okay? One thing at a time.”

He shifts slightly, grabbing the blanket he’d brought over earlier and wrapping it snugly around both of you. “You’re not alone in this. And this doesn’t change how I see you or how much I care about you. You’re still you, always.”

The sincerity in his voice breaks through some of the tension in your chest. You rest your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes as you focus on the sound of his heartbeat. Slowly, the overwhelming tide of emotions starts to ebb, replaced by a small flicker of comfort. Changbin doesn’t rush you or try to push you to move on from how you’re feeling. He just stays there, holding you, letting you take the time you need.

His words hit you right in the chest, and for the first time all day, you feel a little less alone.You let out a shaky breath, leaning into him again as you whisper, “Thank you, Binnie.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, his arms still wrapped securely around you. “Always,” he replies softly. “Now, how about we get you into some comfy clothes and set up a little movie night? Just you and me.”

The thought of curling up on the couch with him, away from all the stress and expectations, sounds like exactly what you need. You nod, finally letting yourself relax a little, knowing that for now, it’s okay to let someone else take care of you.

[deconstructthesoup]

Okay, I had thoughts on forming a legit DBD Hadestown AU, and seeing as they kept me up literally all last night, it seemed only fitting that I actually write them down. So:

Charles and Edwin are, obviously, Orpheus and Eurydice respectively. However, rather than having just met and falling into a whirlwind romance, I decided that they're childhood friends who've met again and rediscovered feelings that they'd both been ignoring for a long time. Edwin is dedicated soley to figuring out why the world is dying and if he can help people while he can, and he hasn't really let himself rest, or even feel happy, in years---to the point where he feels that any good thing is too good to be true, even falling in love. Charles, on the other hand, has long since made the decision that someone has to be happy and keep spirits up in the trying times, and it might as well be him... even at the cost of his own health, as he works tirelessly on a song that he knows, despite all logic and understanding, will bring back spring again.

Crystal is Hermes, but she is also Hecate---she is the goddess of the in-between, magic, trickery, the crossroads, and restless souls... and that last part refers not only to the dead that she guides to Hadestown, but to anyone who chooses a life of wandering the road, from the honest messenger to the thieving highwayman. And yet, since the world has begun to die, she's been slowly slipping away from her role, choosing to spend her time among the mortals. This decision, of course, is helped by the fact that not only is Crystal one of the few gods who thinks there's more to the world dying than it just being "a reflection of mortal hubris," but that she's managed to make a friend in Charles. She's seen the way that music can change the world, after all, and knowing that there's at least one mortal who still has hope means that she can still believe.

Niko is a combination of Aphrodite and Dionysus---she's the goddess of love, revelries, happiness, and abundance, yes, but she's also the goddess of the mania that comes when all of those things are taken too far, and she's been dipping more and more into that side of herself as the world gets worse and worse. She wants to forget all the pain and suffering, and she gives herself and others the means to do so, even if it's all temporary. And while Niko does care for the mortals, and wishes that things could get better... deep down, she's lost a lot of her old hope, and even she can't disguise the fact that she's living with a broken heart.

Monty is Persephone, but he's also Apollo---he's the god of rebirth, prophecies, the stars and the earth, and new beginnings... and for what should be half of the year, he rules over the dead. He used to find just as much joy in watching over the souls as he did creating spring with Niko and charting the stars to bring prophecies to the mortals, but as Hadestown gets more punishing, more people die up above, and the world just gets worse, Monty grows even more bitter and closed off. He's unable to even properly enjoy his time on the surface, knowing full well that he won't stay for six months like he should... and the man he loves is wearing his patience thin.

The Cat King is Hades---and yes, somebody did make a very compelling argument for him being the Fates, but it works for the story, so just hang on. Once upon a time, he was happy just ruling over souls and managing the afterlife, and he cherished the time he spent with Monty as much as he could. But over time, wealth became added to his already vast domain, and his fascination for making and collecting things became an obsession... in no small part due to the fact that those six months spent away from Monty started to weigh incredibly heavy on him, and he eventually loses himself in his effort to replicate everything his husband loves about the upper world as it dies along with the way they used to feel about each other. Not to mention, his old empathy and compassion for the souls has hardened into cold indifference at best and a sick enjoyment of their suffering at worst. And all this change is making one person in particular very happy...

Esther is the Fates, but she's also a version of Demeter---the goddess of nature and all of its love and cruelties, and the one who spins everyone's path on her loom, punishing those who dare to stray from what she has determined for them. She's despised the Cat King for years, ever since he whisked Monty away to Hadestown, and she wholeheartedly believes that the reason the world is dying is only because he's been keeping Monty down there for too long, not because they've begun to fall out of love. So, when Esther spins a tale of a pair of lovers who are destined to end tragically, she sees it as an opportunity to finally push the Cat King and Monty to the breaking point---to save her son and the world, she tells herself, but mostly for revenge.

[rainbow-rey]

Drunk & Nasty

Sam x Reader - MDNI!!

Summary: Reader gets reckless when she's drunk.

Tags: reader-insert, pov second person, p in v, creamp/e, size k/nk, drunk s/x, gr/nding

Posted on ao3 as a oneshot and part of a collection

"I love this song!" Abigail cries over the loud music. It’s some remix of a song that sounds vaguely familiar, like you’ve heard it on the radio before. You don’t really care to decipher the lyrics, especially not now that you’ve started sipping on the first of many drinks for the night. It’s been too long since you’ve gone drinking, and you’re more than happy to drown out the background noise with some liquid courage. 

Music isn’t the only thing you’re trying to drown out, however. The other one just so happens to be walking towards you and Abigail right now. And shit, the way he walks, oblivious to how his pants hug his thighs, how his arms push against the sleeves of his shirt. He has no idea what he does to you. That’s probably the worst part. 

“I got you your rum and coke, Y/N,” Sam says with a soft smile. His deep brown eyes linger on you for an extra moment before he turns to your best friend. “Seb’s coming with your drink in a sec, Abby. He’s over there. I’d be cautious if I were you; I saw a couple girls eyeing him when we were waiting at the bar.”

Abigail rolls her eyes. “That’s what I get for marrying the finest man in Pelican Town. Can’t go anywhere without having to be on pest control. I’ll be back soon.”

Sam turns to me as Abigail has a ‘harmless chat’ with Sebastian. “City girls can never handle the small-town charm.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m from Zuzu, and I’m getting along just fine. Your ‘small-town charm’ is pretty ineffective.” Lie. If only he knew. 

You take a sip of your drink as Sam goes on about his highly effective romance tactics. You’re not drunk enough to ignore how his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. You want to run your fingers over it. Or how he instinctively moves to shield you from passersby, so you don’t get shoved. Everything about him is just so intoxicating. Maybe if you keep sipping, your body will focus on the actually dangerous substance in your bloodstream, instead of the buzz you get when Sam’s fingers graze your arm. 

Spoiler alert: it doesn’t. You’re two drinks and a water in, but all it’s done is give you a strange urge to dance with the nearest person. Unfortunately, that happened to be Sam. You’re now singing lyrics to a song you didn’t realize you knew, trying to hide the way you’re ogling at his body as he moves with you. It’s clear he’s only dancing to please you, and it makes you wonder if maybe he might feel something?

Nope. Not doing that again. You’ve been there before, thought a guy might like you back. Every single time you’ve been disappointed, and you’re not going to make a fool of yourself anymore, not now that you’re a sensible adult… who happens to be grinding against her best friend. And he’s not pulling away. 

The song has changed to something more sensual, and so has your dancing. Sam’s hands are on your hips, your head back against his shoulder. You’re no longer thinking—the fourth sip of your third drink eliminated that possibility. Have you always been such a lightweight drinker? Regardless, your body moves with his so effortlessly, and it feels so right. You could stay pressed against him like this forever. 

You would have, too, if not for the asshole who bumps into you, spilling his drink on your top. 

“Shit!” you exclaim, reluctantly pulling away from Sam. The fucker’s drink was brightly coloured and sticky. You can’t just let it air dry. “I’m… I’m gonna go to the bathroom and clean this up.”

“Do you want help?” Sam asks, thoughtful as ever. 

You want to have to consider his offer, but you don’t have the patience or willpower. All you can think about is him carefully taking off your top in the stall, wiping your chest. Maybe you’d get a little carried away, his fingers starting to graze your nipples…

“Yeah, that’d be great, thanks.” You grab his hand and drag him to the bathrooms. 

“Uh, should we really be doing this in the women’s room?” Sam looks around the stalls anxiously. 

“It’s fine. Nobody gives a shit about anything in Zuzu.” You pull him into the stall with you, along with several paper towels. You start dabbing at the stain, which will definitely not come out without a thorough wash. “Fuck. The one day my outfit actually looks good.” 

Sam unlocks the stall door and leaves quickly, leaving you confused. He comes back with a damp stack of napkins, and he starts to wipe gently at your chest. “Your outfits are always cute.” 

“Thanks, Sam.” It’s near impossible to hide your blush, but it’s not just from the compliment. He’s started to pat down your chest above the neckline, too, and even the slightest contact has your skin feeling hot. You watch him, admiring how gentle he is. He’s so careful, every movement intentional. Your eyes drift to his face, his lashes, his lips. He pauses his movements and makes eye contact with you, and you swallow. 

“Do you want to maybe take your shirt off? To clean underneath, I mean. It looked like the drink soaked through.” You could swear his gaze shifted to your chest, but only for a moment. 

It almost pains you how much you want to say yes, because you know what it’ll lead to. You’d get fucked in a Joja bathroom if it means Sam is the one inside you... You could fantasize for hours, but your dreams are shattered when Sam’s phone rings. 

“Shit, Y/N. I have to take this. I’m sorry. I’ll be back in a bit.” He looks genuinely disappointed as he rushes out of the stall. You are, too, but maybe this was for a reason?

You decide it’s best to just clean yourself off. You slide up your top and use a damp paper towel to wipe your chest and dab at the fabric you were wearing. It was a white baby tee, paired perfectly with your black denim miniskirt. You’re not sure what you’ll do now, though. Maybe you can borrow Abby’s jacket? 

The universe seems like it isn’t fucking with you today, however. You were dancing, everything was perfect, then that careless dickhead came along and didn’t pay attention to where he was going. Sam literally asked you to take your shirt off. Then he got that fucking phone call. Why can’t anything go your way?

You come out of the stall, reapply your lip gloss, and exit the bathroom. Sam is texting on his phone, but he looks up when he hears the door.��

“Y/N, I’m sorry I couldn’t help you. My dad called to ask me when I was coming back, but he basically never calls, so I thought something was up. Everything’s fine. How are you?”

“I’m glad you’re okay. I’m fine. I cleaned what I could. I’m not sure how I’ll cover it, though…”

Sam, being the amazing man he is, immediately takes off his jacket. “Here. Take this. I’ll be fine, and you look cute in it.”

You almost melt. You accept this as an apology from the universe, because the jacket smells like him. Sam’s scent is one you’ve never been able to get enough of, especially because it’s very weird to go around smelling boys. Now, however… You try to take the most discreet sniff of his collar possible. By the way the corners of his mouth turn up slightly, it probably wasn’t discreet enough, but you could care less. His scent is so intoxicating, God. 

“Come, let’s head back to the guys. Seb texted me saying that Abby is on drink number six and she’s basically trying to absorb him. I think we need to save him.” 

You’re not entirely sure what your friends are talking about. The music and lights are too overstimulating, and you’re too drained to try and decipher what they’re saying. You’re only focused on the feeling of Sam’s bicep, which you are wrapped around like a vine. He smells so fucking good, and he’s basically a walking furnace. You, in your short-sleeved crop top and miniskirt, are incredibly grateful for the warmth radiating from his body. He hardly seems to mind, either, occasionally running a hand through your hair or giving your interlocked fingers a squeeze. You think you may die. 

Sam and Sebastian are talking about some kind of sport when Abby tugs on Seb’s sleeve. You can’t hear what she’s saying, but Sam informs you that it was to say that she’s about to puke. The two of them run off after saying quick goodbyes, presumably because Abigail can never do something once. She’s all-or-nothing, but unfortunately it also applies to violently throwing up. She’ll be stuck over the toilet for a while. 

"R.I.P. Abby," Sam mutters in your ear. 

You nod in solidarity. "I feel bad for the plumbers."

He laughs. "Since they’re out of the picture now, what do you want to do? Feel like staying for a bit?"

"I guess. Let’s just sit somewhere, then."

Sam drags you to a newly-empty stool at the bar. There’s only one seat, and he offers it to you. 

"Aren’t your feet tired?" You look up at him. He’s been dancing with you all night, and your legs are on fire. 

"Yeah, but yours are probably worse. You sit." 

"We’ll share the seat. I can, like, sit on your lap or something." You push him onto the unfortunately small barstool. 

"You’re okay with that?" He looks kind of surprised. "Why wouldn’t I be? I suggested it. Help me up." He does as you say, pulling you on his lap. 

You sit on Sam’s knee, feeling his shaped quads under you. You lean back, playing with his hair. It’s so soft, and so is his skin. Was he always so soft? He’s so strong, too. Very muscular. You follow the tattoos on his arms and catch part of a tattoo under his tank top, and wonder if there are more. Maybe he’ll let you see all of them. You run your acrylics down his firm biceps, hardly able to contain yourself. There’s just something about your best friend… The way he’s holding your thigh, pulling you closer to him. The heat that pools in your abdomen whenever he whispers something in your ear. Everything about him makes your heart swell and your clit throb. 

Sam gives you a look, but you don’t know what it means. Carefully, he lifts you—God, he can do it so easily; you’ve always had a thing for strong men—and helps you sit to straddle his leg. You’re not sure why, but you’re not about to complain; his thigh is so firm, and his muscles brush against your clit through your little panties. 

You blame it on the alcohol as you hold onto Sam’s shoulders, using them to help you rub back and forth on his leg. It starts slow, subtle, and pleasure radiates from your aching clit. The material of your panties drags along your clit, the feeling driving you crazy. 

You’re not sure if Sam noticed your cunt rubbing against him at first, but he definitely did when you shoved your face into his shoulder, muffling a moan. Sam lifts your chin so your eyes meet his, and as worried as you are that he’ll be mad, your hips still don’t stop moving. If anything, you’re grinding faster, your chase for that delicious high only being fueled by the intense eye contact. 

"Do I turn you on this much?" asks Sam, his voice low and rough. The look in his eyes tells a story of desire, and you’re no longer worried whether he’s mad. 

You nod in response to his question. You bite your lip to hold in your whimpers.  

"Keep going, baby. I wanna see you come for me." Sam brings his hand to your cheek, cupping your face. His other hand moves to your ass, and he guides your movements. Your hips have a mind of their own, forcing you to buck against him. 

The eye contact makes the friction against your clit ten times better. You whimper as the fabric snags on your sensitive spot. You can hardly believe this is finally happening—after years of needing Sam more than oxygen, you have him, and he’s looking at you like you’re the only thing he’s ever wanted, too. His eyes drop to your lips and make their way up to your eyes again, but not before lingering on the way your tits spill out of your shirt. 

Sam brings his mouth to yours, capturing your lips. You whine into his mouth, now desperate for release. He snakes a hand into your hair, tugging gently, and you reach your climax. "I’m coming," you say against Sam’s mouth. 

He groans in approval. "Good girl. You look so pretty when you come." 

"Only for you," you whimper, still recovering from your high. 

"Even better. Now, let’s go home. I want you all to myself." Sam pulls you off his lap and brings you to head out. You hold his hand, wrapping your arm around his as he pays his tab and brings you outside. The cool air hits your skin and you’re starting to regret wearing this miniskirt. Despite the shiver that runs through your body, there’s something hot about it… Your panties are still soaked, and anyone could see them if you just bent down a little.

Soon, the Uber you’re assuming Sam called arrives, and he pulls you onto his lap in the backseat. He tells the driver the address before moving to whisper in your ear, "Y’know how long I’ve been waiting for you? Gonna fuck you so good, baby."

You almost whine in response before remembering you’re not alone. Instead, you nod eagerly. "Please," you beg, your voice hardly a sound. You can barely think straight; your brain is clouded with thoughts of Sam. Pounding you into the bed, making sure the only word you remember is his name. Your cunt gushes with slick, helping soak your panties even more than they already were. 

Sam trails his long fingers up your thighs, sending heat to your center. He rubs your clit through the fabric of your underwear, and you’re forced to bite your lip to hold in a moan. Sam’s fingers are thick, and the pressure from his fingers is so agonizingly delicious. Silencing your noises is a job now, especially when the tip of Sam’s finger pushes into your hole through the material. He pulls it away, which disappoints you, but the pressure on your clit returns. When his thumb joins the other fingers, he pinches your clit. Slight pain mixes with pleasure; the stimulation increases and so does your enjoyment. Sam’s fingers keep pressing at your aching clit, and you have to muffle your whines into his shoulder again. You crave more, needing the feeling of him. 

Lucky for you, the Uber pulls up in front of your building. Sam literally carries you upstairs, making you swoon even more. You run your hands through his hair and press openmouthed kisses to his neck. He groans and you can feel his erection against your thigh. 

As soon as you’re through the door, Sam has his mouth on you. He kisses you with passion, one hand at your neck, the other reaching under your shirt. His fingers graze your hardened nipples over the bra you’re wearing. You couldn’t have predicted just how much you’d wish you weren’t wearing one, but Sam doesn’t seem to mind. He slides your thin top over your head and tosses it to the side, then unclasps your bra with a practiced ease. He groans softly as he sees your bare breasts. 

“So gorgeous, baby,” he murmurs, trailing his fingers along your breast, swirling delicately around your nipple. He starts to rub, and instinctively your back arches. You let out a soft cry, then another less gentle one when he latches onto the other nipple. His tongue provides a sensation that makes your cunt leak and your knees buckle. 

“Fuck! Fuck, please, Sam,” you whine out. He gives your nipple one last pinch, earning a whine from you, before starting to undo your skirt. He slides the denim down and gets you to step out of it—a difficult feat, as your legs are hardly working, mostly from the sheer excitement and adrenaline pumping through you. 

“Shit, you’re soaked, babe. Is this all for me?” You can only nod as Sam’s fingers trace over the crotch of your panties. He goes in circles, so close to where you need it but not quite there. His teasing coats your panties even more, but there’s only so much you can take. 

“Sam, please…” you whimper. 

“Please what? I want to hear you say it.”

You barely can, the way he lightly ghosts over your clit—not enough to satisfy you the way you’ve been wanting, but just enough to make you need more. 

“I want you, Sam, fuck,“ you manage to get out. Just as you open your mouth to clarify, Sam’s tongue is on your nipple again. You let out a low moan, your fingers digging into his silky hair. “I need your mouth—fuck!—I need it on my pussy, please,” you make out. 

“Your wish is my command, princess.” Sam’s mouth leaves your nipple, but his fingers pull down the sides of your panties. The fabric sticks to your cunt with all the slick. “So beautiful for me, baby.” Sam guides his fingers around your outer lips before parting them softly. 

He collects some of the slick leaking from your hole and brings it up to lubricate your clit. The feeling of his fingers on you is heavenly, and your moans convey the message well enough. Sam’s rough fingers press your clit deliciously, but his mouth still isn’t on you. And maybe he’s a mind reader, because when he removes his fingers, they’re replaced by his warm tongue. You let out a cry, your hips bucking against his mouth. He flattens his tongue and your eyes roll back, trying so, so hard to savour this feeling, but you’re not sure if you can last any longer. 

His tongue flicks against your clit slowly at first, but he speeds up soon. His tongue feels like a vibrator, pulsing against your sensitive nub. It’s not your first time getting eaten out, but nobody’s ever satisfied you the way he can. His body touching yours is just so addictive. You can already tell; this man will end up driving you insane. 

You think you already might be when Sam slides a finger into your cunt. He knows just what to do, massaging your g-spot in a way that makes you see stars. The sounds of his groans against your mound, your little whines, and his finger slipping in and out of you echo the room—and your screams, because Sam added another finger. He fills you up so sinfully, your knees buckle and your hole clenches. 

"Ah, I’m coming, Sam, fuck!" you cry. Your orgasm is the most intense one you’ve had in years. Your pussy convulses around his fingers, trapping them in. He massages you as you ride out your high, licking your clit as well. You have no choice but to melt into Sam, as your legs are jelly. 

He retracts his fingers and moves up to be face to face with you on the bed. You lean against him and he presses a soft kiss against your lips. You kiss him back, this time more passionate. He just has an air to him that you can’t resist—you’re entirely unsure how you haven’t tried to fuck him already. Your lips part and his tongue enters your mouth—he tastes like you. God, everything about him makes you want to carry his babies. 

Sam breaks away from the kiss and helps the both of you to your feet. He wraps his arms around you again and gets you to rest your legs around his waist, and he carries you to the bedroom. Your bare cunt rubs against his clothed erection as you walk, and he notices. 

"Shit, baby. Gonna fuck you so good." Sam groans against your skin as he peppers kisses on your neck. Your cunt clenches around nothing. Sam lays you down on the bed and starts to remove his clothes. "Touch yourself for me, princess. I wanna see how you get your pretty little pussy off." 

Fucking hell, you’d do anything for this man. You suck on your middle and ring fingers, keeping eye contact with him as you cover them in your saliva. You bring your fingers down to your cunt and rub your clit, letting out little moans as you do. You slide them in your pussy, hitting right where you need to. 

Sam is fully naked, and he pulls a bottle of lube from his drawer while still watching you fuck yourself. He lubes himself up and pumps a few times before reaching for the hand that’s inside you right now. He brings your fingers to his lips and sucks off your juices, then drops your hand. He uses his own fingers, inserting two into you and massaging your g-spot. 

"Fuck, Sam…" you moan. He curls his fingers and lets his palm rub against your swollen clit. "Shit, stop, I’ll cum if you keep doing that," you say, forcing his hand out of you. 

Sam wipes your juices off on his throbbing cockhead, already covered in pre. He lines himself up with your cunt, his wet tip sliding against you. He slowly, carefully pushes the bright head of his cock into your awaiting hole. 

Your cunt stretches as his girth enters you, and he feels so sinful. He keeps pushing, your plushy walls sucking in his thick cock. You feel the ridges and veins scrape along your g-spot, and you can feel every part of him inside you. He slides in so easily, and you can hear a little squelch when he fits it all in. 

"You’re so tight," he groans, rolling his hips against you. Your walls stretch at the feeling of his length stuffing you full. Sam lets you adjust to his size, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. He licks your bottom lip and you pull him closer to you, deepening the kiss. 

He pulls out of you and leaves just the tip, dragging a whine out of you at the emptiness—you’re about to slide him back in again yourself when he slams back into you, forcing a loud cry from your lips. He starts to thrust into you in rough motions, his balls slapping your ass and his cock hitting the spot inside that makes your eyes roll back. 

"Fuck, Sam," you cry. "Can’t believe I—ah—waited so long to do this—shit, Sam, right there—" 

Sam doesn’t stop his assault on your pussy. His hard length fucks into you in a way that tells you he’s been waiting for this as long as you have. One of his hands pulls your leg up over his shoulder, letting him reach impossibly deeper into you, while the other leaves bruising marks on your hip. 

"Gonna fuck you so good, baby," Sam slurs, drunk from the alcohol and your pussy. Your soft walls sucking him in feels so addicting; he doesn’t think he can get enough. "Gonna fuck this pretty little cunt ’til you can’t take it anymore, ’til you forget every word but my name. You like that, princess?" 

You don’t really know what he said, only that his cock is pounding relentlessly into your g-spot. Your eyes roll back into your head when his thumb starts to abuse your clit. "Oh, Sam, I’m coming—!"

"I know, baby. Let it out." Sam’s thrusts become more jagged and rushed, but he keeps thrusting into you so deliciously, his finger flicking your clit over and over, until finally you’re coming. God, it feels so good, and even better when Sam starts fucking out his own orgasm. It doesn’t take more than two thrusts for him to explode into you, his hot cum flooding your insides. Your pussy spasms around his girth and your breath shakes as Sam collapses onto you. He doesn’t pull out—he needs to make sure every drop of his seed stays in you. 

You pull him into a kiss, this time soft and loving. Your tongues dance as you feel his body on yours. His mouth on yours, one hand now gently massaging your tit while the other cups your cheek, and his cock continuing to throb inside you. You think this just might be the most content you’ve ever felt. 

"Sam," you whisper, breaking the kiss.

"Yes, princess?" His warm eyes lock onto yours.

"Can we try doggy now?"

[hwaightme]

Golden hour

THIS IS 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI FOR MOUNT'S SAKE (nsfw tags under the cut) (masterlist) (join taglist)

🟡 pairing: bf!san x fem!reader 🟡 genre: smut, pwp, a lot of fluff, established relationship 🟡 summary: in the busy urban jungle, one fateful night at a jazz bar, choi san met his angel of light. from then on, each moment is a breathtaking golden hour, your love a wondrous duet. 🟡 wordcount: 6.5k 🟡 warnings/tags: loving bf san, jazzman!san, you are the apple of his eye, trumpet player, two lovebirds making it in the big city, discussion of marriage, discussion of planning for the future, yes he wants a future with you, late night coffee, being goofy, lots of hugs+heart eyes, lmk if I missed anything! 🟡 a/n: presently in the middle of being a san appreciator and listening to a lot of jazz, which resulted in quite a few song references being interlaced in this ahah; thank you so much for your support, any reblogs, comments, thoughts always appreciated!~

🟡 perma-taglist: @legohwas @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @starillusion13 @hongthoven @cqndiedcherries @uwuheeseungie @cheollipop @frankenstein852 @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @mingigoo @michel-angelhoe @innsomniacshinestar  @foxinnie8 @preciouswoozi @wooyoungjpg @mystar1024 @nebulousbookshelf @wowie-hockey @hongjoongs-patience @memoriesofwoo @ate-ez @toxicccred

🟡 nsfw tags: switch!san/the softest dom!san, switch!reader, the sheer volume of pet name use (sweetheart, darlin', love, angel, my light, my sun...), slight(?) hints at exhibitionism, light nipple play, lovebites/hickeys (giving/receiving), fingering, oral (f!recieving), handjob, hugging during sex, slow and steady, multiple orgasms, cockwarming, riding, unprotected sex (wrap that before you tap that pls), cum inside, soft and gentle aftercare

Enchanted by the ghostly wisps of steam rising from the cooling rich mahogany brew, twirling into the barren nightscape until they were nothing more than echoes of a magical breath, you waited. You were tired of conversing with the shadow stretched before you,  from the sun-like lamp light rays that hopped from the window at the top of the stairs all the way down. So you sat there, between the fourth and the fifth floors of your apartment complex, studying the circular holes in the steps that had become your rocking chair for reminiscing. At nights like these, you took things slow, and let yourself sink into an intimate fragility. Only you and the remnants of a busy late night shift. The hair and skin, which even after bathing seemed to cling onto most, if not the entire bouquet of aromas from the bar; the hands, still bearing the traces of coolness from having heaped buckets of ice into overpriced drinks; the faded eyeshadow, the lipstick - most of it transferred to the mug of coffee, steadily approaching lukewarm, cradled in your hands. Habitually, you traced its rim, feeling for the chip in the ceramic that it sported like a scar, after you had accidentally dropped it on the counter. Its presence was grounding. A reminder that you existed in a world beyond the endless cycles. That sometimes, the unpredictable could happen to you too.

You found companionship in the fluorescent light perched above a sign that attempted, but failed to remind the locals not to litter, and the miniature exhibition of waste backs collected right below it. This scene, viewed from so many metres above, was almost poetic. It was endearing seeing the last hints of humour that your neighbours managed to retain despite the bleakness of the complex and its surroundings. Windows facing brick walls and going grey from smog, a cacophonic roar drilling into the ear drums from the ceaseless chatter of clubbers and late night diners ambling down the nearby wonders of nightlife. The flickering, leaking neon signs above business either long-closed for the day, or just beginning to awaken were practically pitiful, and yet, you could not help but feel a twinge of sentimentality when your mind traversed the area, reminding you of any changes you had spotted, new faces, new flyers; these were the only things that, without fail, would greet you as you walked back home in your midday, another’s time for deepest slumber. Perhaps one would think you were alone or lonely in this hour, remaining out of dreamland solely to tomorrow’s disillusionment. But to anyone who would dare propose something so ridiculous, one look at the smile that graced your lips as soon as you spotted a familiar figure making its way down the courtyard, and stopping to wave at you - knowing full well that you were sat at the stairwell, would be enough to cut any argument at its root. While he was not someone who you came home to often, despite you having lived together for what was about to be a year, Choi San was the music that soothed your soul, the sweetest song, the melody of your heart. He was there for you, and you were there for him. Even if that meant turning into a nocturnal creature, conversing aimlessly with a cuppa into the early hours.

You closed your eyes and counted his steps. Both of you had made it something of a routine to avoid the main entrance. Initially it had been as a joke and as a means to flee from the permanently vexed madam in her seventies who lived on the ground floor, shrill voice and a shivering, bitey pooch cooped up and cradled like baby; she had seen the two of you in states deemed dissatisfying in her view, and as such had turned into a guardian of the complex. A guardian from two young fools who lived to the fullest. In an adoring duet, you had found paths to your comfort, and soon enough, the emergency stairs were an ascension to your palace - shared paradise spanning a couple of rooms. 

San’s resolved, confident steps as he made his way up the stairwell, skipping the second, avoiding the worn down centre of the step between the first and second floors; it was so worn down, in fact, that on some nights when the moon caught this side of the building just right, it was like a fallen star. You grinned to yourself as you recalled this theory. That star worked hard on giving you your wish; the wish whose slicked back, jet black locks you could already detail in your line of sight. As he made the last turn, you gripped your mug tighter; somehow, even after years of knowing this man, of loving this man, San never failed to ignite the warmest, cosiest flame within your soul. The home you had dreamed of, found not in four walls, but in this gentleman, who was now standing before you, hand outstretched and a gentle smile on his face. You graciously accepted the assistance, and let yourself be lifted off the ground with a light pull, to come face to face with your boyfriend. Your precious, funny valentine, with a heart of gold.

“Hey, darlin’, now, I told you the gig was gonna run ‘til late, why’re you up? And with your coffee?” he drawled as he searched for a place to put the case for the second most precious aspect of his life: his trumpet, settling on a nook closer to the inner railing - protected on all sides from a fall. You hummed, and took another cautious sip, studying the man before you.

Despite having woken up at the crack of dawn to walk you to your second job before commuting to his own, there was still that inextinguishable glint in his magnificent dark eyes. Feeling your gaze on him, San rolled his shoulders back, as though he had not a hint of weariness in his muscles, accidentally forcing one side of his favourite jacket, a vintage brown piece made of corduroy, to slip and commence its slow climb down his upper arm. Sighing, you twisted to set your cup aside on one of the stair steps, and made a move to fix it back in place, ignoring the way in which San's hands rapidly snaked to your waist.

"Mm, missed you Sannie." You responded, smoothing the non-existent creases on the black t-shirt he was wearing underneath, your touches lingering as if you had not rested your form on his chest thousands of times, each occasion imprinted in your memory for as long as there was music.

"I missed you more, Y/N…” his eyes darted a couple of times to your hands, only to slowly rise, and focus on the black top that you had chosen to change into after your workday. San exhaled, amused as he imagined you waddling around the apartment wrapped up in that fleece towel you liked, ready to raid the wardrobes. Taking the very edge at the base of the article between his thumb and index finger , he toyed with it, and stated as a matter of factly: “I can see you're stealing my shirts again."

"Well… I can take it off…" you trailed off, moving to undo the very top button, stifling a giggle as San instantly dropped his act and pinched the collar together. He shook his head, gaze glossed over, unreadable. His other hand inched a little closer to your hip, sliding down - a barely noticeable change, but it nevertheless sent sparks across your skin and left you struggling to breathe.

"Uh-uh, that's for my eyes only. Can't have you flaunting something priceless for the whole block." tugging on the shirt, he guided you into his arms and wrapped himself around you, taking in the smell of home. The aroma of his gift that was today, the promise that was tomorrow, and the dream that was the symphonies of a future to come.

It was surreal, the moment he came home. Be it to wait for your shift to end while he tried to get a simple dinner cooking on the stove, or to have you waiting, just like this, curled up on the stairs, every bit a cat basking in the warm glow that resembled the sunset in its hue, falling down the steps from the window of your, and his apartment. As he stood in front of you, etching your form into his memory as if each time he saw you you were someone new, he imagined what it would be like to truly come back at sundown. Have dinner earlier than midnight, spend the evening chatting away about this and that, hidden under a woollen throw that you had found at a thrift store. Let the last rays of the sun, departing to its sleeping quarters, wash over the two of you as you would hold one another in a long, loving embrace, rocking to the ballads only you knew and shared. Sometimes he wondered whether what he played outside of this magical golden hour that was ‘you and him’ was truly music, when all the melodies to divine adoration played in your caresses. Whether the words he sang held any meaning if they were not dedicated to you, sung to you. Whether the sultry notes of the trumpet were anything but noise if you were not there to hear it. 

Crash landed into the big city, he had been a boy with stars in his eyes and boundless ambition. He had wanted to fight the world alone, head on, and had no feel for the rhythm of the metropolis, its people, its jazz scene. He had assumed that he was wanted, and oh, how wrong he had been. Rejection after rejection, San had found himself playing on the streets for a couple of bills to last the day, and had run into a debt with a cruel landlord - so large, that he had considered turning to less conventional solutions. But then, by some stroke of luck, he had met other musicians who were dreamers, warriors of the arts, those with impeccable feel for every note, every off-beat both in the pieces they would cover or improvise, as well as life. Just like that, San had found himself a band, and by the grace of destiny itself, he had found himself performing at a bar, the bar, where he had the boundless joy of meeting you. 

An old hole in the wall in the middle of downtown, it had been your first place of work since moving in more central from the outskirts. Having been on the scene for a lot longer than him, sweeping, cooking, mixing - anything you could get your hands on, you knew practically all the artists around town, thanks to your appreciation of their life’s essence in the form of jazz and their habitual lingering around the bar to chat after a show. As such, a new face had immediately caught your eye, and there, your gaze stayed. All through the night. All through his impeccable covers of Chet Baker’s ‘I Fall In Love Too Easily’ and ‘Like Someone In Love’, during both of which you swore you had never felt yourself being regarded with more intensity. All through the years in which you had come to move in a shared rhythm, existing in a gentle swing, cheek to cheek. For the first time, you felt as though you were staring right into the sun, but instead of tears rolling down your cheeks and agony spreading over your body, your vision cleared and new hope settled.

This rhythm did not falter. Even when some notes were played with their respective delays or anticipations, this was all a wondrous interpretation of life as a duet that was you and your favourite, your only, beloved San, trumpet player, singer, an artist through and through. The man with a dream and the resolve to achieve it. You had promised to one another that one of these days, you will see yourselves as the makers of a new oasis. Your own corner in the glimmering canyons of steel to serve as a sunny safe haven for jazzists from all walks of life. You as the owner of the new Blue Note, him as the first man on the stage. This was the future towards which you both strode, and alongside it, a heavenly devotion bloomed.

As you rocked in a sweet embrace, it was impossible to imagine anything more right. Arms around his torso and hidden from the nighttime breeze by his jacket, you sank into San’s reassuring heartbeat and loving warmth. Caught in a trance, he pressed you impossibly close as though he had not seen you in an agonising ‘forever’, and ran his fingers through your hair while a hand rested on the back of your head. The brilliant, cascading tresses that still retained some of the aroma of the cordials and syrups you often used at your job, despite the top notes being yours, and consequently, his favourite shampoo. He admired the way in which it reflected the sunset captured in the apartment, only half a flight away, a golden luminescence that made him all the more convinced that this was where the glowing, comforting star had found safety to rest. After walking through the town that was enveloped in dark hues, passing by dingy shops and streets in dire need of tender love and care, he could not help but feel blessed that all that time ago, the sun had risen for him, and all he had the pleasure of experiencing was brighter, lighter, and any trials and tribulations were merely a simple test. He fondly recollected your first meeting, having purposefully made a detour on his journey back to walk past the location that marked the beginning of your history.

“We played at a club a couple of blocks from that place tonight.”

“Where we met?” you asked, nuzzling into the crook of San’s neck and relishing in his soft hum as he continued.

“Mhm. Actually, I walked past it while going home.”

“And?” you inquired, pulling away to glance at San’s cheeky lopsided grin.

“Made me walk faster.” you raised an eyebrow, only making your boyfriend chuckle, the honey-like tone never failing to induce a thrilling flurry in your chest.

“Damn, is it that run down?”

San imitated a pondering stance, looking off to the side before returning to study your very irises, with such attentiveness that you thought he was in a world of his own. And in a way, he was. He was convinced that, for as long as he lived, San’s best view would be exactly this. These eyes that had hypnotised him as they followed his figure from across the bar, these gorgeous orbs that held the moon, the stars, the songs sung and unsung. No matter where he went and no matter what new challenge life threw at him, all he needed was to imagine you and suddenly, everything would fall into place. The young man moved to press his forehead against yours, a strand of hair that grazed his eyebrow tickling your face and causing you to scrunch your nose. The adorable reaction proved to be too much for San’s poor enamoured heart as it skipped a beat, and in an attempt to subdue the overwhelming ache he rubbed his nose against yours.

“Nope, just made me want to see you even more.” he spoke low, focusing only on your shallow, lightly trembling breaths and the intoxicating feeling of his skin against yours. 

“Can you see me now?” you joked, hinting at your closeness, hands moving to graze his sides, trailing down until you could tap his alluring waist with your fingertips, stepping forward until you were practically hip to hip and you could feel the friction of his navy jeans against your skirt.

“I don’t know, Y/N, I think I need to get a little closer…” in one cautious trailing of the jawline, he cupped your face, waited for a tiny nod from you to proceed - something he had always subconsciously done when it came to loving you, and what little space had been left between your bodies was no longer.

Tenderly, like early mist settling on the dazzling midnight sea, he worshipped you with every move. Lost in a sigh, in softest caresses, you indulged in the sweetness of his precious lips, fitting so perfectly with your own. While you had not been a believer in soulmates, the only way in which you could describe the idyllic nature of your coexistence was that it was meant to be. It was as if, even though you had your respective, independent melodies, they oh so seamlessly flowed into one, body and soul. San kissed you as though you were life itself, at such a slow, sultry tempo and yet it set your soul ablaze, caught up in a wild wind. Lost in exploring your lover, you only realised how he gingerly lifted the shirt at its base when his arms brushed against yours, causing you to snicker right against him. Immediately you could feel him retract his tongue and lean back to look at you. Your eyes fluttered open after having automatically given themselves up to a sensory bliss, only to be met with San’s signature pout that was dramatically contrasted by an enticing darkness in his half-lidded orbs.

“What…” he whined barely audibly, only making your smirk deepen.

“Now what about that ‘show’ you were talking about, hm?”

“My shirt, my business.” he attempted to dive back into a kiss, digging his fingers into your sides when you tilted your head back and chuckled.

“My lips, my business.”

“Awh darlin’ don’t tease.” he batted his eyelashes, gaze darting around your face to catch any signs of caving in to his charms. However, even if he tried his hardest, his searches would amount to nothing at all, for you would not be able to get mad at his cute face even if you wanted to. As such, your facade soon dropped and you were seeking him once more.

“Don’t be bossy.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good- Choi San put me dow-” you yelped as he stepped to the side, and with mischief flashing across his face, hooked you under the knees and supported your back, sweeping you off your feet for good. Careful not to let you hit the stairs, San’s strong arms held you tight against his chest, and he smiled down to give you a cheeky retort.

“Don’t be bossy~” playfully shaking your head, you let your hands find themselves loosely hanging from his neck, and gave into the addictive fiery pecks that he was leaving on your cheek, across your jaw, only to culminate in a deeper, ravishing kiss, punctuated by an unmistakable undercurrent of sensual longing. As your passion ascended into a crescendo, and the heat rising in your bodies was elevating into being unbearable, San breathlessly whispered the shared desire against your reddened lips:

“It’s time to quit stalling, methinks. Yeah?”

“Sounds fine by me.” you agreed, not fearful of sounding eager. Though apparently, that was not enough. While San dipped you forwards, eliciting a giggle and a compliant hooking of the trumpet case with your finger, he tried to correct you.

“Now, fine won’t do.” giving you another quick peck on your cheek, he began climbing towards the fifth floor, though you were certain that he was spending more time studying you than checking if he was stopping at the right level. Not bothering to mention the mug that had been abandoned, concluding that the beverage was always going to be nothing compared to the energy this wondrous love of yours gave you, you simply gave into the boisterous affection.

“Mighty fine.”

“A little better…” he mumbled back while stepping through the open window into your piece of urban heaven.

“Gonna have to work for any more than that, darling.”

“A challenge?”

“An invitation.”

The phrase almost made him falter as he attempted to gather at least some form of coherence before the submitting to your priceless seduction. Setting you back down onto the floor only to return to his hold of your waist, he shadowed your movements as you set the case down. At the first given opportunity, your boyfriend focused and nipped at the sensitive skin right above your exposed collarbone, one hand rising to hastily unbutton the shirt as you gasped at the contact and in a daze, rushed to tug at his jacket. Promptly, the article found itself on the floor, soon joined by the black shirt that you had borrowed and leaving your chest entirely exposed.

Entranced, San let himself be guided by you to the bedroom as he cupped one of your breasts and ran languid circles across the nipple, while catching you once more in a feverish kiss. Upon hearing the hint of a moan, muted by his own mouth, he inadvertently bucked his hips against you, the pressure on the growing arousal making him needy, and desperate for more touch. Stumbling down the corridor, you felt for the doorframe of the bedroom, stopping right underneath and running your hands under San’s black tee and up his abdomen. He obeyed your unspoken wish and gave you the pleasure of watching him undress, the divine, sculpted lines and edges of his body, muscles working overtime under his beautiful sunkissed skin, all in a magnificent dance. Before you could indulge in him once again, you felt a couple of pulls on the fabric of your skirt, and soon enough the elastic band had given in, and rolled down to let the material pile on the floor around you.

San guided your two hazy forms to the bed, hissing as you trailed kisses up his neck, to the side and nipped at his earlobe, your erratic, shallow breaths nearly sending him into a frenzy. Burning skin, each touch turned scalding making heat pool to your core; you saw stars as your boyfriend slipped his hand into your panties and ran two digits across your dripping sex to collect some of the nectar, before starting to rub your aroused clit, teasing it as you shot out to grab a hold of his upper arms for some illusion of stability. Whispering sweet nothings against your skin he laid you down onto the bed sheets; you could swear they had retained some of the warmth where the sun had hit them during its routinely finale, orange streaks stalking across the apartment. Nuzzling into San's neck you muffled your whines by turning your attention to making this moment bloom, lovebite after lovebite.

"Ah… Y/N…" he sighed, voice husky as he shifted in his half-lying posture in an attempt to get at least some friction. As he flicked your clit and glided two fingers into your entrance, curling them exactly how he knew it would drive you closer to your high, you dug your nails into his biceps to resist a tremble and uttered:

"My man, my business."

"Yours, all yours, darlin', just as you're mine." 

"Mhm, ah, San, I'm- cl-" you moaned as he increased his rhythm, the wanton sounds of his digits pumping into your pussy only accelerating you to your orgasm.

"Close? Already, sweetheart?" You could sense a hint of pride in his tone, but could not form any snarky comment, thoughts turned to mush.

"Too good to me, love…"

"Now, now, and I wanted to make you feel even better…" he chided jokingly, lifting your lower half ever so slightly from the bed to slip the wet panties off fully, not once taking his eyes off yours. You tried to reach for his jeans, the erection so painfully obvious that all you could wish for was to give San at least some relief, but to no avail as he intercepted by taking a hold of your wrist, kissing your knuckles lovingly and simply requesting: “Lie back for me, darlin’, won’t you?��

Of course you would not disagree, not when you felt an emptiness from where his fingers had denied you a complete release, leaving your walls clenching around nothing, and desperation approaching an all-time high. Eagerly, you crawled and fell back on the bed, watching his figure follow you until he was hovering dangerously close, clouded over with lust. After resting his hands on your knees and then, at a deliberately slow pace, sliding them down your inner thighs for you to part your legs wider for him, he lowered himself to devour you. Placing a long kiss on your sensitive clit while holding your legs in place so you were in his temporary control, he ran his hot tongue along the length of your fold, stopping to give the bud extra attention with dedicated licking, and sucking until you were melting into the sheets and the only thing escaping your mouth were pathetic moans laced with his name and praises. As if you had been blinded by the sun, you ceased to see any definition in the world around you as your climax crashed down hard and fast, leaving you shaking and crying out for your boyfriend, who, after leaving a tentative trail of open-mouthed kisses on your pulsating core and on each of your thighs, rose to hook you under your back.

“You’re so beautiful, my love…” he cooed as he wrapped you up in a long hug, careful to let you ride out your high in the safety of his arms. He bit his lower lip as your leg accidentally grazed his clothed cock, only to squeeze his eyes shut when the action prompted him to taste you once again, sending his mind into an overdrive.

As you returned to a brighter lucidity, you gingerly fiddled with the button on San’s jeans, and proceeded to free him of their confines with the lowering of the zipper. Unable to restrain yourself from feeling the hardness of his length, you palmed it through the cotton briefs that were already showing traces of his pre-cum, and pulled down the waistband to let it spring free.

“Oh, San, please, why wait so long, you must be so on edge, I’m sorry baby…” you mumbled, lifting your hand to collect some spit, then wrapping it around his member. Instinctively his hips bucked towards you as you pumped him, barely registering how close San’s face was to yours.

“‘s alright, Y/N, but if you could… mh… kiss it better? May I?”

“Of course.”

You could taste the remnants of your orgasm on his lips and tongue, but only momentarily as he hungrily explored you. Low grunts and breathy moans fell from his mouth, only to be swallowed by your newly blooming desire for more. Deepening the kiss, you absorbed his moan as you sped up the movements of your other hand. Unable to resist the building frustration any longer, San brushed your arm and tilted his head back to show you his eyes - glazed over, full of raw want.

“I need you.”

“How?”

“I need your pussy, sweetheart.” you slowed down, teasing the tip of his cock as he gripped your hips, a coy smile dancing across your features.

“Didn’t you just have it?”

“Not enough, it seems.”

“I think we can do something about that… tell me how you want me.”

“Ride me.”

“Be my guide.”

Nodding, moved to the edge of the bed on his knees, and slid down until he was in a seated position. He motioned for you to come closer, helping you understand his wish. Raising yourself from how you had been positioned, you crept towards your boyfriend, cautiously throwing a leg over his lap until your core was millimetres away from his throbbing member. San’s hands found your ass and gave you a few nudges towards him, while you ran your fingers through his dishevelled locks, a shy smile gracing you as you thought back to how pristine he had managed to look when he had been in the stairwell. Now, he was perfect. When you tapped him to suggest your readiness, San took his cock to slot it into your entrance and with a couple of adjustments, he bottomed out inside you. Sighs combined into a single, intimate breath as his length pressed against your walls, and you rose into an unimaginable euphoria.

Foreheads pressed against one another, neither of you wanted to rush, instead succumbing to a darkness behind your eyelids and focusing exclusively on the other senses. How your inhales and exhales were equally as shallow, how the light tinge of sweat had mixed with the dark accords of his perfume - one that, after having made the step to live together, now almost permanently lingered on your skin, how the contact was every bit like being wrapped in the golden glow of a sunset. You peeked at San, catching him still in a trance, and admired how the light from the ceiling lamp out in the corridor highlighted his sharp and alluring features, all contrasted by the softest, plushest lips which you gave into the instinct to peck. 

Your boyfriend gazed up at you, breaking into a heart-melting smile. Little did you know, he was counting his blessings and had to consciously remind himself that somehow you were not a sun goddess. Perhaps in disguise. You were the melody he would never get tired of hearing, the dawn and dusk that he would always greet and cherish. His muse and guiding light.

“My sun…” he pecked your cheek, flicking his nose against it while restraining himself from acting rashly. Not tonight. Tonight was all about you and him. Together.

“The light of my life…” kissing the other cheek, he groaned as you grinded your hips to have your chest almost flush against him.

“My Y/N,” “My San,”

You whispered in unison, looking at one another with an unequivocal tenderness and adoration. Two seamlessly blending into one, you did not need the days to guide you. Existing in a glittering bliss, before either of you was an angel of light. Truthfully, there need not be anything more. Only the sound of jazz to give you rhythm, and the radiance of your mutual enamourment. 

As you began to ride his member, you took immeasurable pleasure in seeing San’s face contort into that of ecstasy. The fluidity of the motion rivalled that of waves that lapped the distant shores of a paradise. The oncoming bubbling of a climax that threatened to drown you in a sensual unravelling left you lost at sea, with only the rays of your favourite star enveloping you. Rocking your hips, you felt his cockhead hitting your ideal spot over and over, and whenever you would need a break, he would soothe you with a feathery touch. 

The leisurely pace proved to be a build up to unfathomable ruin, as the clenching of your pussy around his hard length left San’s thoughts in a total disarray. He could not register the most basic things around him, jutting into you without a single decipherable word spilling from his lips. He gripped onto you harder, silently begging you to take him deeper, faster as his high became more imminent and he could barely hold on.

“Darling, you’re… I-I swear…”

“Ah… yes? What?”

“Can I? Please, love…”

“Yes, Sannie, please- ah!” he thrusted his hips with a newfound vigour, practically lifting you to give himself space to accelerate. The sudden change of pace sent curls of pleasure to the knot that had been building in your core, leaving you like putty in San’s hold.

“Fuck yes, Sa-an-ie… please…” lewd moans filled the bedroom as his member snapped into you with the exact beat that would send you into a frenzy. Falling apart over him, your pants rapidly turned into high-pitched whines as you could feel yourself approaching the edge to your undoing.

Just as he began to falter, you fell between his head and shoulder, shaking as another orgasm overtook you. The spasming of your sex sent him into uncontrollable pleasure and with a final few snaps of the hips, San kept you still on his cock as hot ropes of cum painted your inner walls. Embracing you like you were the most fragile being on the Earth, he glanced at you even in his half-consciousness to check if you were comfortable. Elated when you returned his regard with an elated grin, San beamed right back, giving you a quick peck before hugging you even tighter, attempting to slow his breathing while his length was still pulsating, surrounded by a divine warmth.

“So unreal… so, so marvellous, Y/N.” that seemed to reel you back from the wonderfully overwhelming sensation, and you brushed your cheek against his. Silence. Two bodies connecting, not needing the light as they lived in the afterglow. Listening to San’s heartbeat, your temple against his, you mumbled:

“I would never leave.”

“Then don’t. I would never let you go anyways.”

“Then I guess you’ll have to carry me to the bathroom.”

“I’ll even hold you in the shower.”

“Oh how romantic.” you tried to shift, only eliciting a groan from San as he cautiously moved you back, a sheepish grin on his features.

“You know what, darlin’, let’s stay like this for a bit, yeah?”

“Fine by me.”

“Fine?”

“Very, very, very fine.”

Once the two of you had in part returned from your post-coital utopia, and San kept his promise and carried you around the entire apartment as though showing you off to every piece of furniture and every wall, you were clean, fuzzy from the perfectly warm shower, and wrapped up in fresh bed sheets which you had playfully commanded for San to lay down.

After having given up on immediately settling down to sleep, you and San had dissolved into a giggly mess. You had convinced him to bring his trumpet into the room and let you have another go at playing it - even though these attempts had already likely accumulated into hundreds - without much progress. At the moment, the one piece which you could confidently play was ‘a whole lot of nothing and painfully blown out air’. As you tried for the umpteenth time to produce as much as one hint of a note, you were distracted by a sudden ‘oohing’ from your boyfriend, who was watching you unwaveringly.

“What?” you lowered the trumpet and raised an eyebrow.

“That was an indirect kiss, darlin’.”

“Come on, San, what in the world-” you hit his chest playfully and attempted to return the instrument, “I’m out here huffing and puffing and that’s what you’re thinking about?”

“Mhm, and so much more…”

“Choi San.” you addressed him sternly, though nothing in your expression even remotely suggested that you meant it.

“Fine, fine, want me to show you again and proper?”

“You know what, I think I practised enough for today.” you handed him the instrument, restraining your laughter while he returned it to its case, clipping it shut and setting it aside on the bedside table closest to him.

“Well done, Y/N.” he praised you, though a hint of sarcasm did not go unnoticed.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh at me as much as you want, but you still can’t make a bloody mary.” you pointed out, making San jut out his lower lip and nod in agreement.

“Fair.”

He opened his arms wide, leaning back onto the large pillows to invite you to rest against his bare chest, an offer which you simply would never refuse. Snuggling up to him, you were in seventh heaven. One arm over his torso and the other propping you up so you would be level, you doubted that there could be anything that felt more safe, more comforting and more adoring than this. Feeling him rubbing unrushed, lulling circles on your back, accompanied by the rustling of cotton, you wanted to dissolve in this moment, your molecules reflecting onto every surface until this was all you knew.

“Y’know, I’m s’posed to have a gig next week that’s gonna cover at least three month’s rent.” he broke through the quietude with the exciting news, making you immediately look up at him, gleaming.

“What? No way, who?”

“Some bigshot from uptown wants music for his party. And who am I to refuse?”

“Damn, San, that’s amazing-”

“And, and, and, they were looking for a mixologist to make the magic happen, so if you are happy to accept, the man’s asked me to call him back tomorrow noon,” the continuation left you stunned, and you wrapped a leg around your boyfriend, embracing him until you could barely breathe.

“WHAT? San, no you didn’t I… thank you? How? I mean…” you stumbled over your words, trying your hardest to not squeal at the opportunity.

“No words needed, lovely. See? We’re gonna save up for that wedding dress in no time.”

He stated casually, but the words sent butterflies into your stomach. You had discussed official commitment early on, deciding that this was to be in your plans for certain, but considering your careers, your desires and your dreams, you wanted to find that golden sliver of stability before taking that next step. Though, as months ticked by, you could tell San’s motivation grew stronger and stronger to be able to call you his wife.

“Oh Sannie, but I told you that I don’t need anything fancy, I just need you.” you responded, trying to provide reassurance that either way, happiness was guaranteed; but it appeared that in the ghost of an intimate night, your boyfriend found entertainment in misconstruing your words into a lustful implication.

“Say that again and you are not getting out of bed for that morning shift.” you hit his chest so faintly that there was barely any impact before hiding your face against him, not reappearing until San brushed some hair away from your face and cupped your chin, “Darlin’, I just wanna have, and live a life with you. Many lives. More than.” melting into his touch, you wiggled upwards, closer to him.

“We’ll make it.” San nodded at your resolution, glancing out into the corridor - although the lamp that had provided the sun-like hues had long been turned off, the heat of your passion prolonged its echoes.

“It’s us we’re talkin’ ‘bout, it’s written out for us. And if not, we’ll take the pen and write it. You promised I’ll be the first to play at your bar… opening night.”

You took in the adoration in his eyes, while San delighted in the same feeling that was held in your own.

“Of course. And you said that the song you’ll sing will be the one you wrote for me.” barely audible, you answered, getting closer and closer to the sun that you knew would never burn you and instead only help you amplify your shine.

“The whole set, love. My all.”

[oops-its-a-fanwork]

Dancing with the pirate boys~🕺💃

I simply think we should dance! Dancing is fun!💕

This pirate au is by @mega-punani and these are just my non-canon headcanons <3 check out their page for more! (she's currently not updating this au but her page is a lovely visit!)

Sans Sooo you know those dances where one person does very little dancing and the other person is pretty much dancing around them, pulling them in? He'd offer one of those dances as a 'haha gotcha now I don't have to do much' kinda thing, but little did he know how you'd turn the tables on him! Oh the shameless flirting as you danced your little heart out! Your fleeting touches as you flutter around him, the looks you give him, the proximity as you pull him close, face to face, only to then pull away for another wide twirl~ He's at the centre of the stage and he cant leave, since he promised you he would do this for you. But oh this man is flustered. He is bright blue. And he simply cannot move his eyes off you. Even years later you can still easily tease him by seductively asking him to dance. He'll get bright blue and flustered again immediately even after your little wink ;) Ah man, you got him good. (The crew definitely teases him about it alllll the time. He just hehehs some more.)

Papyrus Yes yes yes he would love to dance!! Papyrus loves folk dances, ballroom dances, silly dances, tangos, just- anything!! Please ask him to dance! And don't be surprised if he asks you to dance either! He loves the joy of dancing in a group and seeing how invested and/or exited everyone is. Depending on how he's feeling, he can be either 1: a little stiff due to being nervous (maybe dancing in the crow's nest with waves like these wasn't your best idea...), 2: lose and carefree and a bit over enthusiastic (an absolutely joyous occasion or some alcohol may do this) or 3: comfortable, confident and super romantic (and pretty dang good!). He truly sweeps you off your feet in an awesome way! Definitely the type to be chatty during a dance too so he'll absolutely flirt with you while holding you in a dip.

Blue Folk dances hell yeah!!!! He knows a ton of them, is really good at them and is very enthusiastic! You'll have a lovely time with him and the gang, and he somehow knows how to make you feel special dancing with him even though you are also dancing with a ton of others. Maybe it's the way he looks at you? The time after the dance is well spent too: you are warm and tired and he is telling you stories about the dances' origins and the places he's learned them. If you dance for long enough you might actually get a very rare chance to nap with him: two tired and content smiling nerds snoozing on the couch. Slick and strict dances aren't his thing though. He loves the way they look and how romantic they are, but doesn't have the patience to learn and perform them well. He'll sweep you off your feet in a different way!

Stretch Listen honey. He doesn't dance. He plays the music. Important distinction. You can, however, convince him to try when you two are separated from the rest of the crew. You’ll be in a bustling town and evening is falling, and a band softly plays music for a buzzing cafe with terrace. And you may convince him to let you put your hand on his shoulder, to put his hand on your side, to put his left foot here, and his right foot there, then take a step there… and he'll be sweating the entire time, holding his breath until you tell him to breathe, darling. And he'll be stunned at how close you are. And he won't notice that you're dancing so sweetly until the song is over and you ask if you could do that again sometime. And he responds with a soft and flustered "yes" and watches you meld into the crowd to collect some drinks for you both. And he reasons that Yes, he truly might do that again…

Red "Heheh you can give me a lapda-" "No. >:/"

I think it would be difficult to actually get him to properly dance with you. He might entertain you for half a song but then he'll start trying to convince you to leave the dance floor with him. Its just not really his thing, and on top of that he's actually kind of embarrassed about looking like a fool unless inebriated. If you are out dancing he'll definitely brag to everyone and their parents that you're his pretty partner though! In fact, he might start taking you out to dance when the ship is docked just to show you off (and to make sure you have a good time of course). He'll request whatever music you need from the sidelines and watch you go at it. Man he has it good~

Edge You can convince him to take classes with you and hell take them super seriously, but he may have been too self-conscious/busy to start on his own. Learning to dance wasn't really a priority back on his home island and he might care if the others make fun of him for it, especially given his perfectionism. If he can use your request as an excuse to do it though... that'll probably do the trick! He actually really enjoys it: it's structured and beautiful and he can choose to either be in the spotlight with you or in a group where he doesn't stand out. He gets good really really fast too, so unless you are already quite good at it he'll be teaching you soon enough. It's truly a lot of fun and you actually see him smile a lot doing this. Truly a massive win.

Black An absolute show off. He knows how to ballroom dance but would never tell anyone even if asked. Except for you it seems! He puts you two in matching outfits, asks for a dance, and then shows off the fact that he has mad skills for dances like this. If he really wants to show off he might even create a spotlight out of sun or moonlight on the both of you. And to top it all off, he makes you feel absolutely special throughout the whole thing! …You can absolutely use this closeness to fluster him though. He can't escape your flirts while holding you this close >:3c He won't really join in on sillier dances or folk-dances unless challenged to, but his footwork and discipline are amazing so he likely will excel at any structured dance if he's been able to observe it well enough (to everyone's excitement and surprise). Any freestyling he will fail at though.

Cash On the surface he's making it seem far too easy to get him to dance with you. He makes it seem like he's out to get close and steal your stuff while he's there (as if he needs the proximity), but it's mostly a facade to hide how nervous this makes him. Like, genuinely dancing together? That's… vulnerable. Like Stretch, the crew can't be near at all, and honestly even strangers like a band are too much. You can gently persuade him to dance to the tune of a music box or radio you brought. You know you've made a genuine connection when he DOESN'T show you he stole something afterwards, even though he did it right at the start to have an easy way out of the situation. No one wants to dance with a thief, right? He puts it back in your pocket the next morning, and seems much more mellow the following days.

Bear He has a strict 'no partying in the kitchen' rule for obvious reasons, but if you are often hiding in the kitchen for some quiet time and tend to play soft music he might sway subconsciously to it, and if he has some downtime during the cooking process you might be able to persuade him to gently sway with you for a little bit, creating a lovely big blush on his face. Do a little pirouette in his arms and his day is all better. Other than this he doesn't really dance when the occasion arises, but you will find that he is completely focused on you as you dance either a silly little swing or some beautiful dance. He has no jealousy at all seeing you dance with others, mainly because his focus is entirely on you <3

Cinnamon Although complicated choreographed dances are difficult due to his eyesight and general clumsiness, simple slow couples dance can be done just fine! Simply swaying with him will have him comfortable and a little flustered. He would love to enthusiastically dance too but he's worried about hurting you and possibly falling on his face and embarrassing himself. When you do end up slow dancing he often needs to hold himself back from squealing at how cute you are this close, and he needs to resist the urge to suddenly spin you in circles and hug you so close because aaaa cuteness aggression! If you give him express permission to show it you'll end up having a very good time giggling with him, it's super sweet :) Also I am convinced this man can tap dance (or at least is trying to learn to) so if you can convince him to show you his skills you can have a lot of fun together!

[reactionimagesdaily]

REACTION IMAGES BLOG PATCH NOTES (aka the 10k follower celebrations got out of hand)

Hey everyone!

So it's been a hot minute since I announced that we passed 10,000 followers on here! I'm sure... well, I'm actually sure that most people won't be TOO fussed either way, but I did say I was gonna do some stuff, and I wanna stick to my word if nothing else xD

So! Let the celebrations begin! Firstly, I'm announcing a new QnA (I love those things) that'll last,,,, I'll say 2 weeks and go from there. Feel free to ask me about whatever you want!! If you want to cater to me specifically, my current big interests are Baldur's Gate 3, Cyberpunk 2077, Mass Effect, and uuuuh Halo. (Also Bionicle remains a constant.) (Lots of scifi videogame stuff at the moment...)

[IK there's still some stuff in the inbox I need to answer/respond to you - I promise I'll get to those as well <3 thank you so much for your patience, if you've been waiting]

Secondly, here's a new song cover! IDK how many of you have played the game Divinity: Original Sin 2, but here's me singing Lohse's song; Sing For Me.

Thirdly: here's a new gimmick blog! I Was Not Joking. (Though, for my sanity, it's gonna be weekly instead of daily.) I'll be posting the images I have saved in my folder called 'feral screenshots' - it'll basically be a collection of cursed images/images with strange auras. I wanna say y'all know the ones, but if you don't, then here's an example of what we're dealing with:

[Image ID: a person floating in a rubber ring in a swimming pool. On their head is what looks like a life-size Lego head.]

Introduciiiiing the Weekly Weird Images blog!

And Fourthly! It is my great pleasure to announce that we're adding alt text to all the images on this blog! Sorry it took so long to get round to T_T

And yes - I do mean we! To write out all the alt text for these images, I've on-boarded minion-in-chief/court jester aplomb @tizzytinkertilly! I (the reaction images guy) will still be handling every other part of the blog - she'll just be doing that bit. For the sake of my sanity xD

This is kind of a big change - both the addition of alt text, and the fact that this blog is no longer a single-person operation - so for the foreseeable future, the queue's been tweaked so that we only post 2 images a day instead of 4. (Fun fact! 2 images a day was the original MO of this blog, and then covid happened and I was like "I'll make it 4 a day because it'll be a nice thing to do for everyone while they're miserable in this pandemic :)" and then I never stopped (although you could argue that the pandemic never stopped either).) Maybe if/when we fall into a good routine and feel like we can do more, we can bump the rate of images back up, but right now this is a teething phase and I'm keen to slow things down for a little bit. :P (Tumblr has made some WEIRD mechanical choices for group blogs, I'll be honest.)

And, uh, yeah, that's all! Let the QnA begin- Hope y'all enjoy the song cover- Hope y'all enjoy the additional blog- A big welcome to Tinks and to alt text! Happy 10k followers, everybody!

[thesorcerersapprenticeu]

Chapter 13: Underdog

The wheel keeps turning: after a hard setback - Vi now carries a wound from the fight against Sevika - you move on. It becomes clear that Vi urgently needs medical help while you analyze the situation and weigh up possible steps.

At the same time, you reveal a bit of your goal to Caitlyn: the search for the Holy Wizard's Corpse Parts. Your discussion leads to a crucial name: Jayce Talis. A conversation that contains interesting core elements and exciting perspectives.

A confrontation with Silco is inevitable - and even worse: with the only person who ever really understood you. Powder, now Jinx.

---

Holy crap, what a crazy chapter.

Of course you haven't read it yet - you're still up here. But I can tell you one thing: we are so back.

This chapter took a really long time. Never in my life have I written 10.6k words for a chapter, and that's while constantly trying to keep the quality and ideas consistently high. I listened to my playlist almost all the way through (almost 100 songs!).

Without spoiling anything - although the summary does give a few hints - I can say that a hell of a lot happens in this chapter. Read carefully, because there's a lot in here!

I'd appreciate your support for the 10k words - I really sat on this chapter for a long time and pulled myself together to get a piece like this out.

Have fun reading it! ❤️

---

"Corpse parts? "

"Yap. Corpse Parts. "

So, there you three were again, deep in the shadows of the Undercity. Vi, having just emerged from her fight with Sevika, was clearly suffering the consequences - a wound on her stomach that weakened her, even if she didn't lose her pride.

Slowly you move on, through abandoned corridors and dusty paths, until you reach the old mountaineering area. This used to be a place of busy work: coal mining, heavy machinery, a constant coming and going of people who supplied Piltover with energy. Now? Just a hint of the past.

A huge tower rises up in front of you, its neon lights shining brightly in the darkness. They cast restless reflections on the stone walls and sharp edges of the rusted metal. The destination was clear.

But you only have to take one look at the tower to know what's going on. The structure is unstable. Wooden and metal struts are desperately trying to support the weight, but the whole tower seems to shake with every breeze.

"So you collect corpse parts?" asks Caitlyn, giving you a look. Her voice has that slightly skeptical tone that doesn't seem to leave her.

"Haven't I already said that four times?" you reply dryly, your patience slowly waning.

Caitlyn purses her lips, but before she can reply, Vi lets out a soft laugh - despite the obvious pain. "Leave him alone, cupcake. If you don't get it the fifth time, that's your problem."

"I do understand, thank you," Caitlyn murmurs, before focusing back on the path. But her eyes remain intently on you, as if she's trying to read more out of you than you're willing to reveal.

You ignore her gaze and focus instead on the tower in front of you. The thing is a monument to danger. Rusted struts and rotten wooden supports wobble under the weight of the upper platforms, and yet there is no other way down - Silco's men are already behind you.

Vi releases her arms from your shoulders and slowly lowers herself to her feet. Her breathing is heavy, but her determination remains unchanged.

You immediately realize what she's up to.

"Can you do this in your-" Caitlyn begins to speak, her voice skeptical, but she doesn't even get to finish the sentence.

Vi already jumps.

With one leap, she pushes herself off the edge and falls, her hands grasping the rusty bars, which creak and groan under the weight of her movement. She holds on for a moment, then lets go and plunges further down.

Damn.

You feel your stomach tighten. Her temper - that stubborn, unchanging stubbornness - has once again prevented her from thinking clearly. She's always been like that, and that's what cost her so many scars back then.

Still... that was incredibly stupid.

The struts are rotten. A single wrong move, a splinter in her side, and she could have sustained an injury that would have been her undoing down here in the fence. She could have bled to death.

Caitlyn looks at you with wide eyes, her composure briefly shaken. "Is she always like this?" she finally asks, more annoyed than concerned.

You nod, your voice calm but with a hint of sharpness: "Always."

You move closer to the edge and look down, where Vi is standing up and brushing the dust off her clothes. She's unharmed - at least that much.

"Come on!" she calls upwards, her voice carrying a hint of pride. "It's not that hard!"

You sigh, a resigned expression on your face. You turn briefly to Caitlyn and just look at her.

"I'll..." Caitlyn hesitates, looks down and swallows audibly. "I'll have a look first."

You stretch your arm forward and jump, your magic flowing into your feet and arms, strengthening your balance and your movements. You use the struts as jumping aids, move smoothly and finally land next to Vi.

A few seconds later, Caitlyn lands next to you. You had sensed her aura as she carefully but methodically made her way down.

But your focus is suddenly drawn elsewhere. From a distance, you sense a faint presence - barely perceptible, but there nonetheless. Something about it makes you feel uneasy. It's not Silco's men.

"We're being watched," you say calmly, your voice analytical.

Vi turns her head towards you, her eyes questioning. Caitlyn immediately takes a more defensive stance. You and Caitlyn support Vi by putting her arms over your shoulders, and Caitlyn asks the question you were already expecting.

"Which way?" Her voice has that sharp tone that reminds you she must have been using a Sniper forever. "Are you sure it's not just Silco's goons?"

"South-east," you answer curtly. "But we should still hurry. Silco's men are less than a few hundred meters away."

You set off immediately. The footsteps of the three of you echo softly in the darkness as you make your way along the narrow path.

Your thoughts are racing. You look at Vi, whose face is tilted downwards, the pain obvious even though she is trying to suppress it.

Doctor Blythe would help. It could treat the wound - efficiently and precisely. But it would take time. Time we don't have. Besides, I wouldn't be able to move freely or use my magic to sense auras in the area.

You look over at Vi, then further ahead. The surrounding neon light refracts off the rock faces, and the contrast between the natural darkness and the artificial colors is overwhelming. Then something else draws your attention.

Caitlyn.

Her eyes meet yours, questioning, skeptical. Finally she speaks. "So... you're siblings now, are you?"

"We were taken in by Vander," you answer briefly and succinctly. You don't reveal any more.

Now is not the time to talk about your true heritage - the family of scientists you come from. You keep the information to yourself, certain that Caitlyn would either not understand or misinterpret it.

Caitlyn raises an eyebrow, but says nothing more. Instead, she seems to accept your curt answer, at least for the moment.

"And you can... do magic?" she asks again, her voice slightly skeptical as you notice Vi shifting uneasily.

"Yes." Your answer is short and direct, without any embellishment.

"You don't really seem to like talking," Caitlyn mutters, her gaze traveling to Vi's wound on her side, which is starting to bleed slightly from the movement.

"It wouldn't do much good to explain it to you," you reply. "You can't see my magic for the most part, at best you can feel it. Besides, I'd have to get my spellbook out of my coat pocket. And that would probably just cause Vi more pain."

"I'm not that fragile," Vi murmurs, her voice almost defiant, but her gaze remains fixed on the ground.

Caitlyn remains silent for a moment, but then she speaks again. "You said earlier that you were looking for... corpse parts?"

Her tone of voice changes, and you immediately notice the change in her aura. A sudden increase, a clear indication that she knows - or at least suspects - something.

Could it be that she knows something about the corpse parts?

The pieces of the puzzle start to move in your head. Progress Day. You remember Caitlyn talking to Jayce Talis. They know each other, that was obvious. But how well? And for how long?

Can she also use magic? you think further. Is her sniper possibly powered by hextech? Or do they know each other from the academy?

But then another memory hits you, one that gives you pause.

Back when we broke into Jayce's apartment... There were two voices at the door. Don't tell me Caitlyn was the second voice.

You pause, your analytical mind working at full speed. That would be a connection that could change everything.

"Caitlyn..." you speak suddenly, your voice calm but with a hint of sharpness.

"Yes?" she asks, leaning her head forward slightly to look past Vi.

"You wouldn't happen to have been outside his apartment with Jayce Talis a few years ago before it was blown up seconds later?"

The running stops.

Vi's posture changes, her aura becomes heavier, almost oppressed. You can feel it - this moment was a disaster for her. After all, she had planned the mission back then.

"Y/N... you don't think-" Vi begins, her voice strained, but Caitlyn interrupts her.

"Yes, I do!" Caitlyn's voice is suddenly louder, sharper, almost reproachful. "Then you were so-"

"We don't have time for apologies." You interrupt her, your voice clear and controlled. "What exactly do you know about Jayce in regards to the Corpse Parts?"

Caitlyn hesitates visibly, her expression a mixture of unease and uncertainty. Finally, she takes a deep breath and begins to speak.

"He used to tell me this story..." she says hesitantly, her voice muffled. "He and his mother were rescued by a wizard, somewhere in a snowy area... or something."

"What next?" You cut in, your patience slowly waning.

Caitlyn hesitates again, her hands clench into fists, and she lets her gaze wander back and forth between you and Vi. Finally, she continues speaking:

"He said he asked the wizard where he would go now that he had saved him and his mother. The wizard... showed him several places on a map. Jayce was totally confused at the time and didn't know what it meant."

"When did he understand that it was about Corpse Parts - and not about any places to perform?" you ask, your voice sharp.

"A couple years into his research... you know, with Hextech." Caitlyn glances at you, her brow furrowing slightly.

That is too late. Much too late. Everything had already happened by then: the explosion in the Cannery, your break with Singed, and your own decision to look for the Corpse Parts yourself. If Jayce has them, it's only one part at most... but no more.

"Does Jayce have letters anywhere on his body?" you ask suddenly, your tone remaining calm, but Caitlyn seems surprised.

"'anywhere on his body'? Where exactly?" Her voice sounds confused and you can see her getting slightly nervous.

The letters could be anywhere - from the corpse's head to its legs.

"Well, somewhere?" you reply, slightly impatiently.

"So-! We weren't that good!" she suddenly blurts out, her cheeks taking on a hint of red. You notice how she keeps glancing at Vi before quickly continuing. "No, I really didn't see anything."

You snort softly and decide not to follow up. "Then it doesn't matter. We have to get going."

At this moment, you feel Vi start to sway. She almost falls down.

In the blink of an eye, magic flows precisely into your feet and hands, your movements intensify, and you reach out before she falls to the ground. You hold her arm just in time before she falls.

Without your magic, you wouldn't have been able to hold her weight. Even now, you can feel how hard it is to lift her up again, but you succeed.

She needs help, but I don't have a healing spell other than Doctor Blythe, and we can't use that. However, a little shimmer and a painkiller should solve the problem.

"What is this place?" Caitlyn breaks the silence as she shines her flashlight into the darkness.

"It's where the kind of people you topsiders don't want to think about wind up," Vi replies with a pained tone in her voice.

Suddenly something moves in the darkness. A man crawls towards you, his hands outstretched like a beggar. Caitlyn shines her flashlight on him and he immediately retreats, hiding like a frightened animal.

You don't need magic to recognize what's wrong with him. The marks on his skin are clear. Spots and scars, typical symptoms of Shimmer abuse. An addiction, a broken life - exactly what Singed showed you back then, when chemicals are used unprofessionally.

Damn. Just thinking about him brings back memories you'd rather forget.

"It was never this big, though," Vi mumbles as she looks around.

You turn around and notice that the tower does indeed have an entrance. But the structure looks anything but stable. You already know that it's only a matter of time before the whole structure collapses.

Caitlyn takes the lead, supporting Vi and walking ahead. You stay just a step behind them, your eyes wandering back and forth between your surroundings and Vi.

The door is pushed open. Caitlyn enters the room first and shines her flashlight inside. The room is sparsely lit, dust swirls in the air, and the darkness seems to swallow up everything that doesn't reach the dim light.

You and Caitlyn carefully lower Vi onto a table.

Vi's condition is deteriorating by the second. You know she would never admit it, but you can see it clearly. With your knowledge of medicine and anatomy, you recognize the signs: Blood loss, adrenaline crash, a condition that could soon become critical.

"Don't move," you say calmly, your voice controlled, despite the seriousness of the situation.

Vi raises her eyes to the ceiling. To you there is nothing but darkness, but you know that she is slowly starting to see things that aren't there - a result of the blood loss and the overloading of her body.

Caitlyn looks at you, her brow furrowed in concern. "We have to do something. What do you suggest?"

You think. Time is running out, and every second you stay here makes you more vulnerable. You have options, but none of them are ideal.

If I use Doctor Blythe, we have no defense. My magic would be completely focused on stabilizing Vi - no radar, no way to track Silco's people early. But her condition is becoming more critical by the minute. The symptoms could worsen, and we need to move on.

"We only have a limited amount of time. I can stop most of the bleeding..." Your voice remains calm, controlled. As you speak, you pull one of your Steel Balls from your coat pocket. The blue surface of the sphere glows slightly, a calming contrast to the urgency of the situation.

"...but we still need painkillers and a small amount of shimmer."

"Shimmer?! But that's-" Caitlyn begins in a horrified tone, but you interrupt her immediately.

"Not in moderation." You turn to her, your gaze steady but firm. Caitlyn's expression is not only confused, but also skeptical and inquiring - almost as if she wants to discover more in your words than you're revealing.

"If I stop the bleeding, the shimmer will heal and close the wound," you explain.

Caitlyn stares at you, obviously trying to process everything. Finally, she asks, "You... how do you know all this? You can use magic, and you know about all this stuff? What was someone like you doing in the Undercity?!"

You think for a moment, the memories of your life running through your head like a fast movie: your childhood in Piltover, the cold rejection of your family, the time at Singed, the trips to faraway countries, the teachers who shaped you, the people you became close to - and who you had to leave again and again.

"I was born in Piltover," you finally say, your voice quiet, almost toneless. The sentence hangs heavy in the air, as if you have revealed a secret that you have long kept hidden from the world.

Caitlyn's eyes widen in surprise. "Piltover..." she mumbles, and you can see her trying to process that. She was probably expecting any other answer - anything but this.

"We can talk about that later," you say quickly to end the topic. "Bring me Shimmer. Now."

Caitlyn nods slowly, almost mechanically, before turning and walking to the door. You see her pause briefly, hesitate for a moment, before opening the door and disappearing into the darkness.

When the silence returns, you take a deep breath. Your gaze falls on Vi. Her face is pale, her breathing shallow, but she is alive. That's all that matters.

You can still feel Caitlyn's aura in the distance. She moves cautiously, but you can feel her thoughts circling around you. A hint of admiration mixed with incomprehension - a mixture that would almost make you smile if the situation weren't so serious.

That leaves just the two of you. You and Vi.

She is lying on the table, her breathing shallow and irregular, sweat glistening on her forehead as her condition slowly deteriorates. You know that time is short.

You reach into your coat pocket and pull out a leather-bound spell book. It's old, the corners worn, the pages yellowed - still the one from back then, from your parents' house. But between the original entries are new notes, your own spells and insights that you have gathered on your travels.

Your eyes fly over the pages as you go through the spells. You're looking for something - a stabilizing spell for human wounds. But most of the entries are either too time-consuming for the limited time you have, or they require resources you don't have with you.

An alternative would be to use the steel ball. You could use precise magic to forcibly close the wound via the muscle tissue. But that would hurt like hell.

You look down on Vi. She's already been through enough. You can't do that to her.

"I'm sorry..." Vi's voice breaks the silence. It is weak, her words little more than a whisper, mixed with a hint of pain.

Your gaze wanders to her. She lies there, sweating and halfway between sleep and unconsciousness.

"I'm so sorry..."

You know what she's alluding to. She's probably apologizing for that time - the Cannery. Maybe also for leaving you and Powder behind.

But this fault is not theirs alone. The explosion was your fault. You and Powder caused it.

"It's okay," you say quietly, your voice calm, almost gentle.

You carefully put the spellbook aside and reach into your coat pocket again, this time pulling out another book - a notebook. The corners are also worn, and there are small marks and bookmarks stuck to the edges of the pages, evidence of frequent use.

"Here," you say and open the book as you lean against the table. You open to a page filled with sketches and handwritten notes. "I wrote this when I was traveling."

Vi slowly opens one eye, her breathing remains shallow, but she seems to be listening to you.

"I've seen so much, Vi," you say as you turn a page with a small drawing of a marketplace in a foreign city. "Stories of places you can't imagine. Magic so different from anything we've ever known."

A faint smile flits across Vi's face, despite her condition. "Tell me a..." she mumbles, her voice barely audible.

You look at the page and remember the moments you have captured.

"That's a great story..." you murmur and turn the page, your fingers running over the faded lines of the drawings. You exhale deeply, collect yourself and prepare to speak the memories.

"So..." you begin, your voice soft, but lively, as you flash back to the past.

-----

You breathe out heavily. Your lungs are burning, but you can't stop. You run.

"HEY! STOP NOW!" shouts an angry voice behind you, piercing and loud enough to echo through the narrow streets.

You know exactly who it belongs to.

You keep running, your arms packed with various baked goods - a loaf of bread, a few sweet rolls, some pastries that are still warm. Behind you, you hear the pounding sound of footsteps: a growing group of chasers, at first just boys, then a few adults too.

Their target is you.

Since you arrived here in Demacia, you've been hiding in an abandoned sewer. Why exactly? That's yet to come.

"HEY! I TOLD YOU TO STOP!" The voice shouts again. It belongs to a middle-aged man, perhaps in his mid-thirties. His smoky voice tells you he must be a heavy smoker - or someone who gets upset a lot. Maybe both.

It should be clear by now why you're running away from these people: You've stolen the baked goods you're carrying in your arms.

You had entered the bakery, chosen the best pastries and then created a distraction with a tiny touch of magic. That made you doubly culpable.

Now they were chasing you and you had to be quicker.

Not much longer! The entrance should be here soon!

"DAMN! STOP THAT BRAT ALREADY!"

Your footsteps echo on the cobblestones and you can hear your pursuers approaching. But you know these alleys better than they do by now. A few more corners, a jump over a low fence, and then...

There he is!

There it was: a small, hidden entrance to the old pipes, just wide enough for you to slip through.

You're not tall or particularly strong, but that's an advantage here. The narrow alleyways and hidden passages are made for someone like you.

Your coat blows behind you as you clutch the baked goods even tighter. With a purposeful leap, you let yourself fall - or rather slide - to the ground. You activate your magic. You didn't know how to control it precisely back then, and so it spreads all over your body, a light, shimmering glow that surrounds you.

"WHAT THE FUCK! WHY IS IT GLOWING?"

The scream behind you almost makes you laugh. It was risky, but effective. You glide across the floor, a perfect, controlled slide that takes you straight through a small gap into the pipe.

"FUCK! WE LOST HIM!"

The voices echo through the alleyways, growing fainter as you escape into the darkness of the sewers.

The air down here is damp and heavy, with an acrid smell of sewage and mustiness in the air. The weak light from above falls through the few gratings of the street and casts pale, restless shadows on the walls. Green and yellowish stains cover the walls, a mixture of algae and dirt that has accumulated over the years.

The water in the main channels shimmers turbidly, streaked with occasional streams of waste and garbage. A network of corridors stretches in all directions, some leading to larger collecting basins, others ending abruptly at blocked drains.

The sounds down here are muffled, almost soothing - the dripping of water, the gentle rush of a distant river washing through the pipes. But you know that this place is not without its dangers. Rats, people who have even less to lose than you, and the constant decay make this sewer a place that few enter willingly.

After a few minutes of walking, you reach your destination. Passing the city's garbage, you come to a large room.

This was your hiding place. A spacious area that probably once served as a maintenance room for the sewer system. The walls are a little drier here, the floor is flat, and there are a few old metal plates scattered around, which you used to create a kind of base for yourself.

At the edge of the room lies your little world: your spellbook, carefully opened, the pages full of notes and scribbles. Next to it is the book with the map of the Corpse Parts that you have added to on your travels.

Another dark coat hangs from an improvised holder made from an old pipe - similar to the one you're wearing right now, yet different. This coat is thicker, reinforced with extra layers of fabric, a symbol of your constant adaptation to the world down here.

But your gaze doesn't rest on it for long. Your real destination lies before you: a large, homemade bed. A simple construction made from various fabrics and old jackets, spread out flat on the floor, but it radiates a warmth that dispels even the clammy cold of the sewers.

A horse lies on the bed, huddled together, its breathing calm. Next to it, a couple of dogs and cats huddle around it, as if to offer each other protection and company.

That was the reason for your theft. Not just to provide for yourself, but to feed these animals. Some of them are pregnant and you take care of them all.

But before you can go any further, the broken light of the lamp above you flashes - a flickering light bulb that works every few seconds. You see him in its cone of light.

A man.

He leans casually against the horse, one hand on his neck, the other in his lap. Dogs surround him, lying relaxed at his feet. Cats snuggle up to him, some on his arm, another on his shoulder.

His appearance is unusual, perhaps in his mid-thirties. His posture seems completely relaxed, as if he belongs here - as if he has been watching all this for a long time.

You stop abruptly. The sound of one of the rolls falling out of your hand and rolling onto the floor echoes through the silence. Your heart beats faster.

Is that a policeman? Did they find me? How could they? I chose this place carefully, deep in the most hidden part of the sewers, where no one should find me - not even by chance.

Your nervousness increases. A drop of sweat slowly runs down the side of your face. You notice the man suddenly look up, and for a moment his gaze catches you.

His cap sits askew, almost comically, but it's his relaxed demeanor that irritates you the most. The animals around him... They seem not only calm, but almost happy. They snuggle up to him as if he were an old friend - or someone they trust completely.

"You live with these guys?" His voice is unexpectedly cheerful, almost childlike in its enthusiasm. "Man, that's really cool! And the way you led the people out there by the nose - that was impressive! Almost like art!"

You don't answer. His appearance throws you out of focus. A man found you - down here, with your animals. And he knew what happened outside.

He was watching me?

He came here from outside? That means he not only had to be quick, he also had to find the animals and take the route that only I know.

He's faster than me... no, even faster.

Who is this guy?

You stare at him as he continues to lean against the horse. The dogs lie relaxed at his feet, cats rest on his arms and shoulder. He looks as if he belongs here - as if he has already made this world his own.

But then his expression changes. A slight twinkle in his eyes gives way to a more serious expression, and you feel your nervousness reach a new peak.

"But..." he begins, his gaze drifting down to the baked goods in your arms. "That was magic, wasn't it?"

Dead silence.

Your breath stops. You are sure that another small pastry has fallen out of your hand, but your mind is too busy with his words.

He knows it.

That's bad - damn bad. How does he know that? How could he see it? Did I show myself to be so careless?

I have to get out of here! you think frantically, your mind desperately searching for a plan. I knew it was a bad idea to choose this place.

"I-!" you start, but he interrupts you with sudden enthusiasm.

"Awesome!" he shouts, his voice full of enthusiasm. "Wrapping your body in magic - a kind of aura for protection and sliding on the floor! Really creative!"

You remain speechless. His words bring you back from your flood of thoughts, but they immediately raise new questions.

He knows about it. Of magic.

In the background, you can hear the cats meowing softly and the dogs howling. The atmosphere around you becomes quieter and more sinister at the same time.

"But I do have one question..." He leans forward slightly, his gaze penetrating, but his voice remains relaxed, almost casual.

"Why didn't you just surround your back up to your legs with aura?" he asks, making a small gesture with his hand as if to explain the mechanism. "That would have saved you energy and been much more effective."

His words hit you like a blow. Not only does he recognize magic - he also understands it.

Magic. What most people think is a fairy tale, stories from the past. He talks about it as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Your head is racing. Who is this man? How can he be so sure? And more importantly, how does he know so much about something that most people don't think is real?

"I don't know how that works..." you mumble quietly to yourself as you slowly bend down to the floor.

You kneel down, pull out a small blanket and begin to carefully spread the baked goods on it. You tear off pieces and portion them out for the animals. Every movement is precise, thorough.

"I see..." the man mumbles, almost to himself. His voice sounds lost in thought as the animals that were clinging to him a moment ago slowly detach themselves from him and run towards you.

The cats and dogs gather around the blanket, sniff the cookies and start eating. You watch them for a moment, with a piece of bread in your hand that is intended for the pregnant horse.

The silence between you and the man remains, but it is not oppressive. It is a strange calm - almost as if the world stands still for a moment.

"You know... all good wizards get along well with animals," he says suddenly, breaking the silence.

His words make you think. Even back then, before you could consciously use magic, you always had a talent for attracting street animals. They liked you, trusted you - even in times when you knew nothing about magic.

Memories come back. Piltover. Fence. Singed. The events that shaped you force their way into your consciousness.

"I can tell you have real potential!" he says, his voice full of enthusiasm as he slowly walks around you. "Your aura really shines! That's a very good sign."

His words hit you. You feel his gaze resting on you, analyzing, as if he is trying to understand every aspect of you.

"Your... physical performance may not be perfect," he continues, almost casually, "but you have a frightening talent for magic!"

You can feel the words resonating inside you, a strange feeling of uncertainty and curiosity that you can't quite place.

"I'll teach you everything," he says, his voice suddenly serious but full of energy at the same time. "A few simple spells and how to balance your physique with aura and magic. But with your talent, you'll master all that within weeks. And then... I can show you how to use magic in a fight - just in case."

He leans forward, his eyes shining with enthusiasm. "So, I'll teach you all about magic and you'll be my student!"

His words draw you into a whirlpool of memories. You think of Singed.

He was also a kind of teacher for you. A teacher who always spoke of your potential, who told you how far you could go - only to betray you in the end and misuse your talent for horrible experiments on corpses.

"I... I don't know," you finally mumble, your voice rough and shy, an expression of your uncertainty and nervousness. "I don't plan to stay here for long. Just until the animals have whelped... and then I'll travel on."

"'Travel on' hmm... I see," he says more quietly, almost thoughtfully. But suddenly his voice rises again, full of vigor. "Then I really must make an effort!"

Huh?

You look at him, your gaze lingers on his face. A huge, beaming smile has spread across it.

It's strange - as if he's having fun teaching the real magic to a lost child looking after animals in a dark, dirty sewer.

And then it hits you. His smile reminds you of Powder. This familiarity. That warmth. That light that always broke through despite all the darkness that surrounded them.

He stretches out his hand and, without even thinking about it, you take it. His grip is firm, warm - almost reassuring.

"All right then! I'll teach you everything I know!" he exclaims enthusiastically. "Me as your Sorcerer and you as my Sorcerer's Apprentice!"

-----

Vi sleeps peacefully. Her breathing is slow and even, a sign that she can finally relax a little. The exertions of the day have completely exhausted her.

You are still standing next to her, your spellbook in your hand. The familiar touch of the old cover gives you a hint of comfort, even though your thoughts are far away.

The memories are still fresh, almost as if you've just relived them. When you told Vi everything, it felt for a brief moment as if you were there again - in that sewer, with him.

The nights come to mind. The nights you spent alone, just with the animals or the few people you met on your travels. But never with your family.

Your gaze wanders to Vi.

A faint light falls through the dirty ceiling, illuminating her face. It is peaceful, almost as if she were the girl she was back then - before everything fell apart.

But the thought of family hurts. Powder. Vi. Vander. They were your world, and yet you lost them. Or have they lost you?

You close the book and carefully put it back in your coat pocket. The silence around you is almost palpable, accompanied only by the steady sound of Vi's breathing and the soft trickle of water somewhere in the distance.

With Caitlyn still on the road, you have a little time. Time that you can put to good use.

You concentrate, focus your magic. Your life energy slowly, almost automatically, forms into a transparent, gently pulsating mass around your hand. The feeling is familiar.

Normally you would be cold down here - the sewers have a relentless chill that penetrates even through thick clothing. But the energy in your hand quickly becomes warm, almost comforting.

And that is exactly your goal.

You immerse yourself in the technique, direct the energy and expand it, bit by bit. The aura, which normally only exists just around your body, begins to expand.

It is like a warm blanket that covers the room.

This is not a simple spell. The extended aura that covers the whole room is more demanding than ordinary magic, but you don't feel any strain. Not this time. You've used this technique many times before - for yourself, for others.

Slowly, the surroundings begin to lose this unyielding cold. The air becomes warmer, more pleasant, almost cozy.

Your gaze falls on Vi. She lies quietly, continuing to sleep while the warmth envelops her.

Everything you do, you do for her - so that she can endure the pain in peace, without freezing.

The magic remains stable. You know it might be a while before Caitlyn comes back, but it doesn't matter. You're going to stay here and make sure Vi has as pleasant a time as possible.

Your gaze remains on her face. Your thoughts drift back.

All the trips you've taken, the places you've seen. The magic you have mastered. But more than that: the words of your old magician.

"You should enjoy the little detours to the fullest. Because that's where you'll find things more important than what you want."

A faint smile spreads across your face. That you have to think about it right now...

But somehow his words were right. On your long journey to find the corpse parts, you ended up here again - back at the beginning. Without having found even one of these parts.

But the fear remains.

Fear of failing again. Fear of letting down the people who need you. Fear that the ghosts of the past, the memories, will become the present again.

It becomes too much for you. A hint of panic rises in you, your thoughts go round in circles. But then...

You can feel it.

Caitlyn's aura, about ten meters from the door. It's not that you've just noticed her - you've just blocked her out to focus on Vi and the magic.

You stand at the door and open it just as Caitlyn is barely a meter and a half away.

"Damn-!" Caitlyn winces, her voice a startled gasp. "Oh...you really scared me."

You don't answer, your gaze remains neutral. You step slightly to the side and wait for her to enter.

Caitlyn gives you a quick, skeptical look before entering the room. Once she's inside, you close the door behind her and go back to Vi.

"And you're sure..." Caitlyn hesitates, her eyes on the small dose of Shimmer in her hand. "...That this... stuff helps?"

You look at the bottle, study the color and the smell.

The dose is definitely stretched. Probably mixed with a neutralizing agent to soften the effect. But it will be enough.

"Yes." Your tone remains calm, confident, as Caitlyn leans over Vi.

Slowly, she tips the liquid from the vial into Vi's mouth. You stand right next to Caitlyn, one hand under Vi's chin to make sure nothing spills and everything gets to where it needs to go.

Suddenly Vi cries out. The sudden sound breaks the silence, and Caitlyn and you react immediately, holding her straight before she slowly leans against the wall.

You are close to each other, your faces just a few centimetres apart. In the suddenly colder air of the room, you can feel each other's breath.

"Easy, easy..." Caitlyn speaks softly, almost soothingly, as she holds Vi's shoulder.

"Calm down," you say calmly, still supporting your hand. "The shimmer is already working."

Vi's breathing gradually calms down, but she still looks pale, her eyes cloudy as she slowly sits up.

"What was the name Sevika gave you?" Caitlyn suddenly speaks as she stands up and walks towards the door. "Jinx?"

"Right," Vi mutters, her voice raspy. "How could I forget?"

Caitlyn stops at the door and turns to you. "We're going to have to be more careful now." Her tone is serious, watchful. "Silco will be watching."

You are about to say something, but before you can open your mouth, the floor rumbles beneath you.

The sound is deep and menacing. All three of you freeze, your eyes wander upwards. The water tower above you trembles and sways.

I knew it, you think, your mind already on alert. This thing is so unstable that it could fall on us at any time.

Caitlyn quickly stands by a beam which, as you've already seen, is so unstable that it could be the cause of all this crashing down. She looks at the drawings on it, the different colors and what exactly was painted.

"You used to live here. Who's Powder?" she asks, without taking her eyes off the drawings. But then she turns and looks straight at you, her eyes piercing.

You return her gaze, silent, while your mind rattles.

I'm not allowed to say 'sister' now, you think. That sounds far too close, far too familiar. But 'step-sister' is just as strange. What should I even say?

"Vi's sister."

Your voice is calm, almost stoic, but precise. Perfect. You keep the tone sober, as if it were purely factual information.

Caitlyn tilts her head slightly, her eyes scanning your face before she looks at the drawings again.

"I thought she died," she mumbles to herself, her voice filled with frustration, almost as if she's talking to herself. "But no. We have to try and find her."

As she says the word "We", she turns to you again, her eyes fixed firmly on you. You immediately understand what she means.

Preparation.

But your thoughts drift off.

You don't know how to react when you meet Powder - or now Jinx - again.

So much happened back then. You were all still children, unprepared for the cruelty of the world. But you have changed. Vi has changed, Powder has changed... and you have changed.

The memory of the last time you were together pulls you out of reality for a moment. The explosion, the loss, the screams.

Can I even bear to face her again?

Your gaze wanders to Caitlyn, who is still examining the beam. Her posture betrays determination, but also something else - uncertainty.

"How do you not know if your sister is alive or dead?" Caitlyn speaks with a tone that is somewhere between reproach and confusion.

From now on, you prefer to just listen to the conversation. You can sense where it's heading - your intellect has long since recognized the direction.

"It's hard to check up on people from inside a concrete cell." Vi's answer is terse, cutting.

"What? You don't have parents?" Caitlyn continues to ask, and you notice how the atmosphere changes.

This is where it hits you.

You remember. The red smoke on the bridge. The screams, the chaos, the pain that began then and has never left you since. This feeling of loneliness that has burned itself into you and has accompanied you your whole life.

If Caitlyn had asked you, what would you have said?

Yes, I have parents?

No, I don't have parents?

Or maybe: My parents were brutally murdered just like Vi and Powder's - back then, on the bridge in Piltover?

Would you lie?

Would you tell her the truth - especially to an enforcer?

"No! They were killed by Enforcers. "

Vi's voice breaks through your thoughts. Her words pass you by, almost like a distant call, but they stir something inside you.

For years, really years, you have been thinking intensely about your old family.

Your parents.

They were ordinary people. Your father - a scientist, a brilliant mind whose passion for research often drove him away from you. But you admired him. He taught you how to think and how to observe.

Your mother - a gentle, calm presence, but with an unshakeable will. She was the anchor of the family, holding you all together no matter how stormy things got. She had a knack for calming you down, making you feel like everything was going to be okay, even when it didn't seem that way.

When you remember your siblings, an unpleasant feeling rises up inside you. A nausea that is not of the physical kind, but comes directly from the deepest parts of your memory.

Your brother.

He had a way of dealing with you that balanced between teasing and cruel. Sometimes he told you stories - stories that threw you off balance.

"You know, you're not really one of us."

His voice, always with a hint of mockery, echoes in your head. "Mom and Dad only adopted you because they were lonely."

You didn't believe it at the time - at least you wanted to. But every time he repeated it, it left a little doubt, a little uncertainty that slowly settled inside you.

Your sister.

Instead of defending you or refuting your brother's lies, she often went along with them. Sometimes she even laughed at the stories.

"Imagine," she said with a grin, "if it's true? You'd be like a magician, someone who doesn't even belong here!"

But over time, the distance between you grew. The tensions grew. Piltover was a cold place, even for a family like yours.

And then: Vi and powder.

Vander took you in, gave you a home when your old one went up in flames - literally and figuratively.

Vi was strong. She always wanted to fight, always wanted to prove that she was in control. But she also had a heart that was bigger than she would ever admit.

Powder. Your heart tightens as you think of her. She was small, vulnerable, full of life and hope. She wanted so much to be part of everything, so much to prove that she was useful. But the world was cruel to her.

You feel a heavy lump in your throat. Every memory brings both warmth and pain.

Caitlyn and Vi keep talking, but their voices blur in your head. You feel like a child for a moment - lost, on the bridge, in the red smoke.

But then you feel it.

Something enters your expanded aura.

A presence. Calm, almost silent, but at the same time imbued with a deadly sharpness that alerts your senses.

What... is that an aura?

Your breath hitches. A sudden chill spreads through your body and you feel a single drop of sweat run slowly down the side of your face. Something big is happening - you know it.

"What's wrong?" Vi's voice brings you back to reality, and you look over at the two of them.

"Seven people," you say succinctly, without beating around the bush. Your tone is calm, but your words hit like a hammer. Vi and Caitlyn stare at you with shocked faces.

"They're standing about ten meters outside... they're waiting."

"You-!" Caitlyn starts, but before she can continue, she is interrupted by noises outside. Soft shuffling, muffled footsteps, like the prelude to an impending catastrophe.

"Wait. We're not armed against seven people!" Caitlyn speaks hastily, her voice laced with tension. "I gave my gun to the Shimmer, and-!"

"We don't need them." Vi interrupts her with a firmness that is both reassuring and unsettling. She steps forward, straight to the door.

That could end badly.

Vi's skills might be stretched to their limits here - especially down here, in an area where any of these attackers probably have Shimmer in their blood.

Before she opens the door, Vi turns to you. Her gaze is sharp, her face serious. "You sensed her. What do you think of her?"

You hesitate for just a moment. "All auras are weak..." Your voice remains calm, but you add, "...I'd still be careful. If they consume Shimmer..."

Vi nods curtly, opens the door and steps out.

For a brief moment - when the door is open - you see him.

The thin figure, the bright orange left eye. An aura that is almost unnaturally calm, and yet... there is something deadly, something hidden beneath this calm.

You feel your hand unconsciously clench in your coat pocket, your fingers close around one of your steel balls. Your senses sharpen, your magic is ready.

"Caitlyn, get ready to collapse this water tower," you say in a serious voice, your gaze resting firmly on her.

Her face reflects shock at first, but it only takes a few moments for her to understand. She recognizes your plan, and without a word, she moves to the supporting beam of the tower.

Caitlyn rams her shoulder against the support pillar, again and again, in a desperate attempt to put your plan into action.

You continue to concentrate on the situation outside. With a boost of your magic, you amplify your hearing. The voices outside become clearer and you hear him speak - Silco.

"You don't know your limits, girl. It's what got Vander killed."

Your blood is boiling.

You fucking scum. Memories flash in your mind of the cowardly attack he used to backstab Vander.

"You talk too much," you hear Vi reply sharply, her voice full of anger.

This is the moment. Everything will happen very quickly now.

You turn to Caitlyn. But before you can say anything, you hear Vi's footsteps approaching the building.

She storms past you.

Only a few centimetres separate you from her as her pink hair swirls past your face. Her movements are full of energy, full of determination.

Vi positions himself in front of one of the pillars.

With a fluid movement, she reaches out and hits it with all her strength. The room shakes, the structure trembles, but it's not enough. Only a second passes - an agonizingly slow second of silence.

You see the expression on Silco's face. He looks directly into the tower, and at that moment his gaze meets yours.

He recognizes you.

The eyes of the man who betrayed you back then widen. His face betrays both surprise and panic.

What is he doing here? He must be thinking it. Didn't he die in the Cannery back then?

But you don't wait. Your determination is unsurpassed, just like back then.

You pull your hand out of your coat pocket, the blue sphere in your hand, glowing from your focused magic.

With a precise throw, you hurl the steel ball against the pillar. The shake is like thunder that rips through the entire structure. Vi and Caitlyn, who were disappointed and shocked a moment ago, now see the tide turning.

Everything begins to collapse.

The water tower gives way.

The first thing you hear is a deafening crunch as the supporting beams break. The creaking of wood and the screeching of metal mingle with the shouts of the men outside.

The tower topples. The huge mass of wood and metal comes crashing down, throwing dust and debris into the air. The water erupts, a tidal wave that engulfs everything around it.

Then you feel it.

A strong, sturdy hand grabs your arm, pulling you out of the path of the falling debris. You know immediately that it's Vi.

She pushes you and Caitlyn forward, her steps quick and determined. Rubble crashes down behind you, but Vi's grip remains firm.

You run.

The crash, the dust, the chaos - it reminds you of that time. Of the cannery, of the explosion, of the moment when everything shattered.

But this time you are not alone.

You run through the dark, narrow streets of Zaun, away from the chaos you have left behind you. Vi runs full speed ahead, her steps hard and determined. Caitlyn follows close behind her, while you tend to stay on the edges of the group.

You focus your aura on your legs to keep up with their speed. Without this support, you would have fallen behind long ago.

Vi occasionally bumps into people, pushes them out of the way. Some shout after her, others just look startled, but she hardly seems to notice. She even raises her middle finger once, her energy completely controlled by adrenaline.

"Enforcers are coming now!" Caitlyn yells after you, her voice loud and strained. "We have to go!"

Their words almost blur for you. Everything in the background sounds the same - a mix of voices, noise and the echoing footsteps of your escape.

But then you realize it.

Vi's gaze changes. She no longer simply looks ahead. Her gaze is fixed, as if paralyzed, in a certain direction.

A deeper direction of fence.

You follow her gaze and then you see it. A thick, blue smoke rising into the air.

A sign.

"Wherever you are, light it up and I'll find you."

Vi's words from back then flash through your mind. It barely takes a second for you to remember.

Back then. Vi, Claggor and Mylo went to the Cannery, while you and Powder were to stay behind. Vi gave you a torch with blue dye.

"I promise." she had said.

And now - there it is. This blue smoke rising into the air, an unspoken echo from the past.

Vi stops abruptly, her eyes staring at the smoke. Her breathing is heavy, her posture frozen.

Caitlyn also stops, confused. "What is that?" she asks, but Vi doesn't answer.

Your heart beats faster and faster.

Without a word, you change direction, all as if pulled by an invisible force. The smoke gets thicker the closer you get.

The sky seems to turn blue, a strange, unnatural blue swirling in the air. The chemical smell settles in your noses, unpleasantly acrid, and yet you can't stop walking forward.

Your nervousness grows. Unconsciously, you pull your coat hood up, only to pull it down again straight away. Your hands slide into your coat pockets. A steel ball in one hand, your spellbook in the other. Your fingers play restlessly with both - a reflex, an attempt to tame the storm inside you.

"Powder?"

Vi's voice breaks through the strange silence that the smoke has brought with it. A single word, full of emotion - hope, fear, doubt.

For a brief moment, you think about simply turning around, walking away, avoiding the confrontation. But your body remains still, your feet frozen in place.

Your mind switches off.

You rely completely on your magic, expanding your aura to sense everything around you. But you only feel the obvious:

Vi's aura. Caitlyn's. And then... another. Calm, waiting.

You see Vi start walking. Her steps are hesitant, but she doesn't let anything stop her. She disappears into the darkness and you hear the soft, almost choked sound of her hugging the person.

Powder.

You don't see her yet, but the thought is enough to make your throat clench. The fear of this moment, of what you will feel when you actually see her, creeps through your body.

"Is that..." Caitlyn's whisper snaps you out of your thoughts.

You look at her, she looks at you, and then you just nod silently.

Something falls to the ground.

A small crystal with a blue reflective surface glitters faintly in the weak light. The sound of the impact is almost loud in the silence.

Your eyes follow the crystal. Caitlyn has noticed it too. You both exchange a glance, then look back at the crystal.

And then... you see them.

Jinx. No, Powder.

Her skin is pale, almost sickly, and the lighter tones of her childhood have disappeared. The lines in her face are sharp, her cheekbones clearly defined. Dark circles stand out under her silvery powder-blue eyes, which are streaked with darker spots - a look that seems both empty and full of storm.

Her lips, a dull purple, seem to have lost all color. Tear burns run lightly across her cheeks, visible traces of emotions she couldn't hide.

Her bright blue hair, which used to be wild and untidy, now falls to her ankles in two long braids adorned with bullet casings. The small engravings on the cartridges look like her drawings, memories that she with her. A few strands of hair hang loose around her face, and a sharp side strand emphasizes the left side of her forehead.

Her clothes are adventurous and messy. A dark, brown leather crop top, with a thin, dirty white fabric forming an X on her chest. Her low-riding, striped pants in shades of purple and pink are ripped, asymmetrical and rough, like herself.

It looks different.

That was all you could think while staring at her.

Her eyes wander to you. Your face is open, the hood is down. She sees you in full clarity, and you see her.

Vi steps back imperceptibly. She senses that this is not her moment, that it is something that belongs only to the two of you.

You are facing each other.

Only one step separates you, and it feels like this step could change a world. The air between you is heavy - not with words, but with memories, with feelings that flood both of you.

You can see it in their eyes. The same memories, the same feelings. Images of shared moments, of laughter and tears, of promises that were broken.

And then, without words, you move towards each other.

Your steps are slow, almost hesitant, as if every movement carries a thousand questions and answers. But the moment you reach each other is effortless.

You put your arms around her.

She puts her arms around you.

The contact is intense, overwhelming. You feel each other's warmth, you feel the years of separation and pain that have stood between you.

Nothing else exists for this moment. No past, no present, no guilt, no questions. Just the two of you.

You're about the same height as you were then, and you feel her tremble briefly before she squeezes you tighter. It's not a simple hug. It's a bond that has never really been broken.

"Powder..." you whisper, almost like a prayer.

"I missed you." Her voice is quiet, brittle, and yet it carries everything she can't say.

You stare into each other's eyes. You are almost the same size, which makes the moment even more intense. There is no escape route, no place you could retreat to. Only each other.

Time seems to stand still. Vi and Caitlyn have faded out, the world around you is blurred. In this terrifying world full of chaos and pain, you have found each other.

And then... after what felt like an eternity...

You withdraw.

You continue to stand close together, just one step away. But there is a new desire - the desire to feel each other's warmth again.

Vi steps closer, her eyes fixed on you.

But the moment breaks abruptly when Jinx's gaze turns to Caitlyn.

"Who's she?" Her voice cuts through the air, cutting and full of rage. Her gaze burns, hitting Caitlyn with an intensity that almost pierces her.

You feel it immediately. Jinx's aura becomes heavier, it contracts before suddenly spiking. A clear sign of her inner turmoil.

Vi reacts quickly, placing herself between Jinx and Caitlyn, who is standing behind her. "It's okay," she says, her voice calm but firm. "She's a friend."

But Jinx's eyes widen and her features harden. "Sevika wasn't lying? You're with an Enforcer? "

The crystal.

A slight shift under Vi's shoe, and your gaze wanders to the small glittering object. Suddenly it all makes sense.

The blue smoke, her presence here... She wasn't here to help you, to invalidate Silco. She was here for this crystal.

A crystal with a slight magical signature.

"This is a trick!" shouts Jinx.

Her hand reaches for her minigun, and you feel the energy in the room change. It's no longer the Jinx that was hugging you a moment ago.

Two shots are fired.

The impacts are loud and hard. Both bullets land right in front of Caitlyn's shoes. A clear warning. Smoke rises from the minigun, the sound echoes through the alleyways.

Powder - no, Jinx - scans the situation. Her eyes are narrow, watchful as they dart back and forth between you all. But you notice that she's avoiding you.

Maybe it's fear. Fear that your gaze will trigger something that she can't control.

Your head stops thinking.

The events of the last few days have overwhelmed you, and this moment is no different. The voices blur, the screams, the anger - everything becomes a dull background noise.

You see it. Jinx raises her minigun, holding it to Vi's chin for a brief moment. Your heart races, adrenaline pumps through your veins, and your grip on the steel ball in your pocket tightens.

But deep down... you know that you could never hurt Powder.

Then you will feel it.

Something is approaching.

A tingle runs over your skin, a signal from your expanded aura. Your instinct - both human and magical - sounds the alarm.

"Did you hear that?" Jinx's voice snaps you out of your trance-like state. Her eyes dart around and you see that she has noticed it too.

You hear it too.

A soft creaking of metal.

The call of a crow.

A low, vibrating hum, just out of sight.

It's not in your head. It's real.

You can feel it with your expanded aura. Several auras coming closer. They are not strong, at least not magical, but something feels wrong. An unsettled feeling that spreads through your inner being.

Then you will see the green light.

Faint at first, almost invisible in the fog, but then it becomes clearer. A signal, a luminous glow radiating from one of the pipes in the distance.

The deep, mechanical rumble follows.

You don't have to look twice to know what it is. A man on a hoverboard, framed by this eerie green glow.

His silhouette is sharp, focused. And at that moment, you sense the other auras.

Weak. But something is wrong. Why now? Why at this moment, when we've just found each other again?

Are they after the crystal?

The battle begins.

Everything happens too quickly.

The people on the hoverboards rush at you, fast and chaotic. You are paralyzed, your mind struggling with emotions, memories and the sudden danger.

One time you dodge an attack, another time Vi stands in front of you to protect you. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Vi screams at you, her voice cutting, but you can barely process it.

Jinx laughs.

A maniacal laugh as she shoots wildly with her minigun.

You reach for your spell book - the only thought forming clearly in your mind. Your mind is too foggy, too overwhelmed to react logically or strategically.

So you let the autopilot take over.

You open your book, surround it with your aura and activate the spell. One that you have created yourself.

A spell that makes your body react automatically - precisely, instinctively, without your conscious control. It consumes enormous amounts of magic, but that doesn't matter now.

Your body moves.

You feel an opponent behind you. Your body turns without hesitation, a steel ball flies with full force against his side.

With the steel ball on the side of the person, you control the movement by rotating it, and this lets you shoot the person with the weapon at another of the opponents, as you did with the guy on Progress Day.

You continue to react only automatically, an instrument of your own magical creation. Your body moves, defends itself, attacks - precisely and deadly.

But your mind remains absent, overwhelmed by the events that come thick and fast. You are a puppet, driven by magic, focused only on not dying.

And then it's suddenly there. The moment.

The world becomes silent.

No shot, no scream, no metallic buzzing of the hoverboards. Nothing.

You pause. Your gaze darts around the area, but all you see is her. Jinx.

Your figure stands out clearly in the darkness, surrounded by the remains of the battle. Her eyes - silvery blue with dark spots - are searching for you.

"Y/N?"

Her voice is little more than a murmur, a call that hits you like a punch in the gut.

You want to collapse.

The weight of your actions, the consequences, everything you didn't do - it weighs on you like an invisible burden.

Vi and Caitlyn. Kidnapped.

And you? You were so mentally exhausted that you couldn't do anything.

Jinx moves.

She walks towards you, her steps uncertain, almost like a child who wants something back that she has lost.

You move too.

Your hand clutches a Steel Ball tightly, already loaded with rotation and magic, ready to defend you - but you know you wouldn't use it against her. Never.

Just as Jinx has almost reached you, her arms stretching out to embrace you, it happens.

Behind her.

A sound, quiet but clear enough to catch your attention. One last opponent.

A Firelight, floating on a hoverboard, just one or two meters above the ground.

You react instinctively. Your steel ball leaves your hand with brutal precision.

Jinx turns around as the ball hits the Firelight.

The blow is direct - the mask splinters and the person is knocked off the hoverboard. The rotation of the ball pushes the opponent through the air with a force that surprises you.

Silence returns.

Just the two of you.

Separated from Vi, separated from Caitlyn, separated from the world. Just you and Jinx, alone in this cold, dark reality.

The fight is over.

But the weight of the outcome weighs heavily on both of you. The losses, the loneliness, the separation - all of that hangs in the air.

But Jinx... she doesn't stay sad for long.

On the contrary.

She stares at you, her eyes focused, as if she's trying to really see you - you, the boy from back then, and the man of today.

Then, suddenly, she lifts her head and a broad smile spreads across her face.

"Then I guess we finally have some time to ourselves."

---

And interrupted at precisely the most important and emotionally gripping point - yes, I know, I'm sorry.

In my opinion, this chapter is one of the most important so far. We discovered a bit of your backstory, the years after Singed and what you did during that time. Plus brief memories of your family... It was really intense.

As I mentioned in a previous chapter, my Poppy Playtime chapters are now taking a bit of a break, or rather will be coming out a bit slower, as another chapter of the game will be released at the end of the month.

This means I'm focusing on getting as far along in the series as possible with this fanfiction. It's going to be a challenge, though, as there are several plots going on at the same time and I still have some details to plan out - be it the Holy Wizard's Corpse, Viktor's reality-bending magic, or the whole idea of magic in this world.

As always, I appreciate any support. This chapter really took a lot of work. Thanks for reading! ❤️

[leenaur143]

Happy 27th Birthday to the man who deserves a list of 27 reasons (he actually deserves billions) why I love him so much 💖

1. Chris is the most caring person alive. I don't mean this lightly either because to be as selfless and understanding as him takes more than just effort and time, it takes heart and patience (even though he says he has none - we all know he does, in bucketloads). It's weird when even though you don't know the person, you can see their character shine through so well by how they interact with others.

2. He is so kind to others. Being caring doesn't always equal being kind to people but Channie bridges that gap so well through how even when things go wrong or he isn't happy about something, he respects others enough to not let his emotions dictate his actions. He says he is impulsive but when it comes to serious business, he is calm and collected.

3. "Best father of 7 kids" "Oh yeah, who's mum?" "JYP"

4. Can we take a moment to appreciate how insane of a dancer he is??? Sure he isn't part of danceracha nor does he have a burning passion for dance for his solo stuff but WOW. CHRIS TAKE A BOW. I remember seeing Superbowl live and I have no idea what it was about that performance that made me go CHRISTOPHER CHAN. but it did and I've been reliving that moment for months.

5. His songs are too overpowered. WE NEED MORE CHAN POP PLEASE!!!! People hate on Connected and I hate to admit wayyy too much man but like SLUMP??? LEVANTER??? DRIVE??? RED LIGHTS??? 0325???? BLACK HOLE?????? ETERNITY????????????? The list goes on. Insanity.

6. The audacity of this man to say that his voice doesn't sound good- CHRIS! If I had to list my hobbies, I'm pretty sure 'listening to Railways' is high up that list, just so I can hear his voice.

7. Ummmm Bang Chan rapping??? Underrated.

8. We all know how amazing of a composer and producer he is but the fact that he urges non-3racha members to produce more and more is just so beautiful cause you can really see his influence on them and how they trust him to allow them to shine.

9. Him staring at the members from afar in surreal moments. That's it. That's the thing I love.

10. Bang Chansan speaking/singing in Japanese. When he did that cover of LiSA's Gurenge in SKZ Toy World fanmeet BROOOOOO I ASCENDEDDDD

11. He is so loved. This isn't even like a mild thing either because everyone who has the pleasure of meeting him always waxes poetic about how amazing he is: from people who have met him loads of times like Ryan Reynolds who said Chris is his bias since so so so long, to others who meet him once and fall in love like Chris Hemsworth and Nicholas Galitzine at the Fendi Show, his aura is crazy.

12. He is cute. As much as we all crinkle up into a ball when he acts like he is actually foive, LOWKEY LIKE REALLYYYYY LOWKEY he is adorable.

13. That interview with Young K is my comfort interview fr and I know that isn't a thing but now it is. He is truly the maknae of third gen idols and being a fourth gen leader can make him seem older than he is but he truly did 'give up his youth for his future' 🥹 I'm glad it paid off - It's my favourite lyric cause it hits home so so much but I'm sure to him and the boys, it hits even harder - seeing that circle choreo for that 😭 chills literal chills

14. His smile 🥹 Whenever I'm having a bad day, I have one Channie gif that I always come back to and it turns my day around, no matter how tough it is

15. He is so fashionable! Okay, black clothes only is fine, I'm not a hater or I'd be such a hypocrite but when he is dressed up for events or shoots or even music shows, you see how he inputs his own decisions into what he wears and how he wears it and it always EATSSSSS. Can't wait to see him at the next Fendi fashion show!!! Bring him back Riri!!!!

16. He does need to love himself more but I know that he knows how much we love him. It is insurmountable when you think about how many peoples lives he has changed just by being himself 🥹 Okay I can't think about this too much or I'm going to start crying on the train rn (ha railway joke???) no but fr I will weep.

17. His words. The way he says things to inspire us, I still go back to watch his Channies room episode where he talks about anger management because the advice he gives is really impactful. That could just be me because I know I get the best advice from people I admire so much but that can differ for different people

18. Would it be a Chris post if I didn't talk about how much Chan's room helped me? 🥹 I understand and have made my peace but it was amazing. That's all I'll say on the matter because I know he misses it and he knows how much we do too.

19. His interactions with other idols. Whenever you hear an interview about other groups or idols meeting SKZ, they never fail to mention Channie because of how much of a welcoming and kind person he is, to everyone. Of course as Atiny, I would remember Hongjoong's words the most but to inspire people is a talent and Channie has that skill in the bag. (Also number 19 hehe 19 is such a bangerrrr)

20. His presence is such a comfort. I remember I was on Holiday abroad and that was the day he went live on Instagram, showing us his room and his hat collection and everything, and despite the time difference (hehe what's new?) me and my friends tuned in and it was so so amazing. Should I mention Channies room here again.... 👀🥲🤣

21. He is very dependable. Watching the behind the scenes for this summer's festivals was testament to how reliable he is and how not only the members but the staff and the band members trust him to the extent that he was the main port of call if there were decisions to be made or if something went wrong.

22. He is so so so so so gosh darn handsome and I'm never gonna stop saying it, even after he believes it himself. I hope he knows we legit love him for him and we're not just here for his body or whatever else he jokes about. CHRIS WE LOVE YOUUUUU

23. His dad jokes. Need I say more.

24. His selfies! I don't care how infrequent they are or how he just drops them on us at the most bonkers times (always. literally ALWAYS. You have like a pivotal moment in your life and BAM channie selca drop ding ding ding announcement panic panic jaw is dropped)

25. We all know how insecure he is about his hair but I know that we all love him, his hair and all and I definitely don't think he knows that. I truly hope he doesn't feel any pressure from us to change himself because he literally is perfect just the way he is.

26. Hands. Stop I am so normal about him but his hands... the Jeong Yunho level of feral-ness is SO REAL

27. Our Channie is the best leader we could ever ask for.

[arachnxphobe]

random miguel hcs

will not admit it but he has cried to multiple animated kids movies

definitely the classics like toy story 3, the iron giant, and inside out

but he also BAWLED at the end of finding nemo because he was thinking about gabriella

he thinks that toothless from how to train your dragon is cute

no i will not elaborate on that

secretly celebrates st patrick’s day

likes to wear something green under his suit or have one piece of decor hidden in the depths of his office

has really low spice tolerance BUT really likes it and also he has a reputation to keep up as the big and tough guy so he WILL try and hide how much water he is chugging

he likes the dad ice cream flavours like pistachio and rum raisin

but hates dad hobbies like golfing or collecting stuff like antique coins or dioramas

he just doesn’t have the patience for it

can cook and bake!!!! actually scratch that he can do all of the chores and is basically a househusband but is simply unwilling to do it

peter b may or may not have gotten him a kiss the cook apron that may or may not be the only apron he owns…

he could 100% have gourmet meals every day but he doesn’t have anyone to impress but himself so most days he just lives off of the sealed, pre-cooked chicken breasts from the convenience store and reheated rice that he makes in a big batch once a week

because yes chicken can be store bought but microwaved rice tastes too much like chemicals, especially for his heightened taste buds

is a shower guy

he thinks that baths are too inefficient and most tubs can’t fit him

but if you somehow manage to find one that’s big enough…oh boy he’ll act like you are waterboarding him but honestly he’s having the time of his life

competitive as hell, even when he acts like he could not care less

like he does not understand the concept of letting somebody else win, why is he handicapping himself and letting them think they’re better than they actually are?

he doesn’t mean it in a way to establish dominance or superiority

he just thinks that it’s weird to let someone win because wouldn’t lying to them be worse? now they can’t even improve

designed his own suit and probably gets a little bit self conscious when someone comments on it because he really isn’t an aesthetics guy but he worked really hard and is proud of his suit 🥺

was perhaps a little bit salty about the dark garfield comment but you didn’t hear that from me

please never trust him with naming or decorating though because if left on his own, it’s either going to be the most disgusting combination of items ever known to man or quite literally the bare minimum

don’t even think about a bed frame, there’s a chance that he doesn’t even have a mattress

he’s good with personal hygiene though

a slight germaphobe in the sense that he wants everything to be sterile (a habit he picked up from always being in the lab) but is more than okay with getting his hands dirty, just as long as he can thoroughly sanitize them afterwards

a terrible movie watcher

he either does not understand the movie whatsoever and keeps on asking questions that they just answered a minute ago

or he’s ripping them apart for their weird pseudoscience

honestly his ranting ends up being more entertaining than the movie at times

be prepared for a full lecture if you don’t stop him at some point though

i’ve heard a lot of people throw out spanish songs that they think he would listen to but might i suggest some non-spanish songs

he gives me doja cat vibes, don’t ask me, i just feel it

personally, i don’t think he would actively listen to kpop or be into the fan culture but he probably enjoys some songs without even realizing they’re kpop

i’m thinking newjeans and maybe epik high??

ABBA

mitski and hozier (where are my depressed wlw at) because you know that when he’s in his brooding self hating mood that he needs suitable bgm

HATES cruises

something about being on water does not vibe with his spider-catness

neither does the overall cruise ship experience

hot tubs and buffets just don’t really do it for him

there’s not much space for privacy except for your own room but even then the walls are fairly thin

so it’d be nearly impossible for him to get any sort of peace

me and the rest of the internet all seem to have agreed that he has insomnia and i feel like a cruise ship would not help whatsoever

would complain about how the mexican food is just what americans think mexican food is like

is too much of a workaholic to take an extended break, and it’s too difficult to jump back into work should there be an emergency