#myst stranger

[meowthiroth]

saw an art meme going around twitter and couldn't resist lmao

[anonymous-ivplay]

Inktober Day 11: Wander

Let me tell you I am SO GODDAMN HAPPY with how this turned out!!! It's not perfect nor does it get all the canon details right, but it's still worth every second of the three hours I put into it. The scene it depicts is from the Selenitic Age in the game Myst, and the young woman is meant to be my own self-insert version of the Stranger. Fundamentally Myst is about taking your time and exploring every inch of the game as you look for puzzles to solve, which makes it the definition of "wander" to a T, and I could not pass up this beautiful image that came to my mind.

[mangogator]

every time i see that one still of sirrus, all i can think of is the mr beast meme

[sucky-username]

I’ve been meaning to make art out of my Myst notes for a while. I love how this turned out! There are notes from all the games up to Exile, which I still haven’t been able to play any further than since I have a Mac. These pages are all connected in an accordion fold in my journal, but I really like how they look laid out like this.

Tap for better quality!

[trisshawkeye]

SUN - Stranger bullies local nerd into self-care

---

Written for the July 2023 Mysterium prompt: "Sun"

[pupsmailbox]

ELDRITCH ID PACK

NAMES︰ abacuc. abholos. abianak. aether. ahoth. aine. alala. alder. amadio. arkham. ba'al. basmach. bast. belial. blank. bonifatius. byagoona. byte. caelestoth. caine. calogerus. chaos. chrodechildis. cipher. clue. cthulu. custodia. cypher. daoloth. darkness. dethal. diaz. ebony. edwyn. elder. eldritch. elm. emereo. enigma. epiphagan. epoch. eternity. fortunatus. godid. habakkuk. han. haze. hitch. hydra. hynos. ieremahel. illuminathia. inpesca. istasha. juniper. kaiser. kallistos. kaos. kaprosistha. keme. kross. lapse. leto. lovecraft. luxoth. lythalia. maya. mechal. melekh. miasma. mirabilis. mirage. morana. mormo. mystery. nctolhu. nctosa. nightmare. nodens. noire. noxia. nyctelios. oddity. oroprimus. oroursus. ortun. oryx. oukranos. pandora. paradox. peregrinus. pseudo. pulse. renatus. rom. rowan. runa. rune. runfrid. sebek. sitheach. spy. sthanee. stitch. stranger. thasaidon. trojan. truth. unoch. user. veil. vibur. void. vulture. wylie. xitalu. yamath. yorith. zycanthe.

PRONOUNS︰ abso/absolute. absolute/absolute. answer/answer. blind/blind. book/book. chao/chao. chaos/chaos. cipher/cipher. claw/claw. clue/clue. code/code. confuse/confusion. corr/corrupt. corrupt/corrupt. cosmic/cosmic. curio/curio. curse/curse. cypher/cypher. danger/danger. dark/dark. death/death. deep/deep. deity/deity. delete/delete. depth/depth. destroy/destroy. dev/devour. devour/devour. diety/diety. doll/doll. dread/dread. eat/eat. eerie/eerie. eld/eld. elder/elder. eldritch/eldritch. en/en. end/end. eon/eon. ero/ero. error/error. eter/eternity. eternity/eternity. eye/eye. faith/faith. fear/fear. find/find. flesh/flesh. forgot/forgotten. glitch/glitche. glow/glow. god/god. hidden/hidden. hide/hide. hint/hint. horr/horror. horror/horror. hunt/hunt. hx/hxm. incompre/hensible. it/it. ix/ix. jolt/jolt. lack/lack. lord/lord. lost/lost. mad/mad. madness/madness. miasma/miasma. myst/myst. old/old. omen/omen. one/one. puppet/puppet. quiet/quiet. raven/raven. read/read. sanity/sanity. see/see. seek/seek. shx/hxr. space/space. spot/spot. spy/spy. star/star. stellar/stellar. step/step. string/string. submit/submission. sui/sui. that/thing. thon/thon. thxy/thxm. track/track. uncanny/uncanny. unknown/unknown. virus/viruse. void/void. what/what. whisper/whisper. ☄️ . 🎭 . 👁️ . 📜 . 🕳️ . 🧠 . 🧿 .

[patricia-taxxon]

Hi, ive been looking and i havent found an answer. I just recently finished playing animal well and really like how it present its puzzles. I cant find if you have played the game and talked about it, but if you have, what do you think of it? If you dont like it thats fine, im just curious about your thoughts on it.

i'm really eager to find a game in this genre that I like, so I'm definitely going to play animal well and tunic and obra dinn and probably give OG myst a shot too after I'm done with void stranger. like i wanna formalize my thoughts on puzzles vs riddles and it doesn't really work if i legit only have negative things to say about the latter.

[maeum-your]

pairing: park jongseong x fem!reader

synopsis: life with all its unexpected twists and turns decides it hates you big time. your best friend ends up taking you on a trip to italy to help you escape the cruelties of your existence for at least a couple of days.

when a handsome stranger saves you from some intimate time with the airport floor and you later happen to bump into him again at your hotel, you decide to spend more time together. is it wise to open up your heart to him?

starring: enhypen jay & sunghoon, ningning (aespa), soobin (txt)

genre: one-shot, fluff, angst, slightly humorous (to some) (perhaps)

warnings: no smut but there definitely is talk about the omegaverse (idk how that happened either), harmless making out, quite a bit of cursing, dysfunctional families, my restrained need to talk about my hero academia so mc mentions todoroki quite a bit lmaoo my bad

word count: 14.1k

a/n: happy comeback day 🎉🎉🎉

my first fic in two years woooo! i started writing this two summers ago but never ended up getting past the first draft. it took a lot of editing and revising to get it to where it is now and i hope you enjoy 🫶🏻

the location where this is taking place holds a very special place in my heart 💞

“and above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places.” - roald dahl

you had your palms pressed against the cool glass, mouth hanging wide open in wonder as you gazed through the window. wings broke through the cotton candy field of clouds, your final destination becoming visible at long last.

stiff limbs from flying for so long were quickly forgotten as you took in the scenery from above. a breathtaking tapestry of vineyards and olive groves stretched across the landscape, the late afternoon sun illuminating the waters of the serpentine river slithering through the city below.

everything just looked so very different from what you were used to. the skyscrapers and gray monotony of your own life disappeared to the far back of your mind.

“i knew you’d love it, but you literally have heart eyes right now. you better close your mouth before you start catching flies.“

the redhead next to you nudged you in the ribs, giggling at the wonderstruck expression on your face. “mission accomplished. just what i was hoping for.“

you rolled your eyes at ningning’s teasing smirk but couldn‘t stop your mouth from stretching into a big smile, eyes gleaming with excitement.

“oh, shut it, you.“

soon, you‘d made your way through security and headed to pick up your luggage. you hadn‘t really brought much—a single suitcase sufficed for the short stay ningning had planned. yet, you already found yourself wishing for more time in this special little corner of the world.

completely exhausted after a full day of flying and five layovers, yet brimming with anticipation, you stood waiting at the baggage carousel. it seemed to take forever, though you didn‘t mind, not much, whistling a jolly tune while tapping your feet, watching bags and suitcases of all sizes, shapes and colors get picked up by people just as varied as their belongings.

as you finally laid eyes on your rosé gold suitcase and moved to retrieve it, a collision sent you staggering. if not for a stranger with superhuman reflexes who had reached out and pulled you back by the waist after someone’s shoulder had slammed into yours with unexpected force, you might have ended up greeting the grimy verona airport floor with your face.

a silver-haired young man at a distance waved apologetically. “my bad!“ he yelled and then, addressing the mysterious stranger who still had his arm wrapped snugly around your waist, “come on, dude. our cab‘s waitin‘.“

your savior was donning a pair of gray joggers and a zip hoodie, the hood drawn up, sunglasses hiding his eyes as he bent his head to look at you. concern lined the features that weren‘t being concealed, lending him a mysterious air amidst the casual attire.

“is your shoulder okay? sorry about my friend; we‘re in a little bit of a rush and he’s a little… well, let’s just call him a high energy individual.“ with a quick bow, he darted off after the silver-haired man, leaving before you could utter a word in response. the kind stranger had gone before you could get a proper look at his face.

lucky for you, ningning had maintained her composure amidst the chaos and had swiftly retrieved both your suitcases from the carousel in the meantime. it was exactly what you expected from the hyper-focused and detail-oriented woman. you wouldn‘t be surprised if she could read an academic paper and understand all its concepts without struggling even in the middle of attending a death metal concert or riding a rollercoaster. she had always been nothing short of amazing.

with her hand on her waist, the redhead sighed as she glanced after the two men responsible for the commotion.

“that was one hell of a main character moment, huh?“

you felt a blush creeping up your cheeks, still feeling the lingering touch of the stranger and the faint scent of his cologne in the air.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

after picking up the keys for the rental car you had pre-booked through the company's website, you set off from verona airport. inside the shark blue volkswagen golf, the windows remained down to combat the stifling, humid air. normally, you would have minded—the hair sticking to your forehead and the beads of sweat forming—but here in verona, one of italy’s most historically and culturally significant cities, it felt liberating. it felt like freedom.

the breeze that flowed through the open windows swept away all the pent-up frustrations and stresses of the past weeks, carrying them far into the distance. in its wake, it left a sense of tranquility that you weren’t sure you had ever experienced.

ningning had a white scarf draped elegantly around her head and neck, its thin fabric fluttering in the wind. She wore stylish louis vuitton sunglasses perched on her nose and sported bright red lips that shimmered in the sunlight. ningning was the embodiment of the phrase "to go in fashion," effortlessly turning heads wherever she went.

you closed your eyes and let the crisp air tickle your skin.

passing through several charming villages, you eventually arrived at lago di garda. mesmerized by the lake of shining waters, you decided to take a leisurely drive around its perimeter.

a few windsurfers skillfully glided across the water, harnessing the wind's power, while most people were beginning to depart as the sun dipped low, casting an orange glow over everything. high-pitched calls echoed as seagulls swooped and scavenged. you couldn't help but burst into laughter as you watched one bold seagull snatch a sandwich right out of a tourist's hand, prompting a comical chase that ended in a flurry of french profanities.

by the time you completed your circuit around the lake, darkness had nearly enveloped the landscape. the sun had slipped behind the mountains, cooling the air. above, the moon shone brightly, casting a silvery glow that danced across the lake's surface.

the way up the winding road of the mountain might not have taken long but it sure wasn‘t relaxing either. your knuckles turned white from gripping the sides of your seat so hard as your best friend navigated the curves and twists of the road in the near dark. the hillside wasn’t secured at all and, if you were being completely honest, you didn‘t necessarily trust your best friend’s driving skills.

her reckless mode of driving stemmed less from any daredevil traits the redhead didn‘t possess and more from an earnest lack of skill. not that the overachiever didn‘t try to make up for it with rigorous practice.

a car came racing down the road at full speed, blinding you with its headlights. you squeezed your eyes shut. so this is how it would end? you were still so young and there was so much you still wanted to do… oh, no—would your mother throw away your psychologically large manga collection? you didn‘t want todoroki living inside a trash can.

through some miraculous maneuvering, ningning steered the car close enough to the edge that the speeding vehicle narrowly missed you. perhaps you needed to give her driving skills more credit after all. with a heavy sigh, you slumped back into your seat. todoroki was safe.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

“soobin, my man. how nice to see you! how's the family?”

checking in at the hotel took a little longer than it might have usually. ningning was happily chatting away with the blue-haired receptionist, whom she‘d known ever since he‘d started working there five years ago. her family had been coming up there for the past ten summers or so, enjoying a few quiet weeks together in the mountains. it was quite strange, actually, that you‘d never come there with them, but then again, your own parents had always liked to keep you where they could see you. you'd spent your high school summers with your nose in a textbook, as they forced you to attend summer school and other extra study sessions because anything less than a perfect grade was unacceptable.

with heavy eyelids and throbbing heads, the two of you headed straight to bed without having dinner at the hotel restaurant. you had bought a sandwich each at the airport to snack on during the ride, so you weren‘t really all that hungry. besides, there were still a couple of days ahead of you to enjoy all the delicious mediterranean specialties italy had to offer.

the mattress of the king-size bed was soft and bouncy as you flopped down on it. you sprawled out your tired limbs, feeling as if you were lying on top of a cloud.

ningning had immediately refused the idea of getting separate rooms or even separate beds. she had always been the clingy one, hanging onto your arm or cuddling up to you while watching tv. you didn’t mind; you enjoyed the feeling of someone actually wanting to be in your presence.

being apart even for just the night would probably not have been the smartest idea anyway. attached at the hip since the ripe age of five, ningning knew you as well as the back of her hand. if left alone for even a moment too long, she feared you might fall apart. and girls who fly together, cry together! or at least that’s what she‘d said. no solitary weeping for you.

sharing beds had been as much a regular occurrence throughout your friendship as drunkenly reading juicy omegaverse stories out loud at 3 a.m.

from the time she befriended you on your first day of kindergarten, when she'd scared off a boy who‘d been chasing after you with a worm, until now, you‘d been having weekly sleepovers.

as teens, there had occasionally been the unscheduled visit too, whenever having to deal with your controlling parents had gotten too difficult.

it just so happened that skillfully climbing out of your window and sneaking over to cuddle close under her soft duvets was the only way to calm the anguish tearing you apart like a feral beast. ningning would let you cry in her arms while you told her, in between broken sobs, all about what you had apparently done this time to garner your parents‘ disapproval. the arguments usually revolved around you not wearing the right clothes, not reading the right books, not getting the right grades, not having the right friends—you get the gist. nothing you ever did was right.

even so, within the next hour, you’d usually end up giggling uncontrollably as ningning made you watch an episode of how i met your mother or funny cat videos she‘d saved just for occasions like that. she was like a witch who could spirit away your worries with a wave of her hand.

what had happened this time, however, could not be solved by some simple quality time and extensive skinship. it had forced you to escape together, to run off to another country, even if just temporarily, taking a holiday in the comune of tenno situated near the foothills of the italian alps.

it was as if the majestic peaks of the surrounding mountains had put their protective arms around you, and the soothing breeze, carrying the earthy scent of nearby forests, lulled you to sleep. for once, you slept soundly, with no nightmares coming to plague you at night, nothing to disturb your peaceful slumber.

soft rays of sunlight danced along your skin, gently rousing you from sleep the next morning. as consciousness returned, you fluttered your eyes open.

beside you, the redhead stirred, grumbling something unintelligible before burying her face in the gigantic pillow. she was sprawled out across her mattress, clinging to the covers more than they clung to her. her tousled hair, evidence of a night filled with tossing and turning, revealed her to be an unexpectedly messy sleeper.

you patted her head with a fond smile before slipping away to take a shower. the cold water jolted you awake, breathing new life into your senses. today promised to be a good day—you could feel it in your bones.

squeaky clean and feeling refreshed, you opened the bathroom door, expecting to breathe in the calm morning air drifting through the open window. instead, you were greeted with a horrendous stench that made your eyes water.

ningning was holding up a spray bottle and waved it frantically, filling the room with a cloud of mosquito repellant that made you cough violently. you buried your nose in your shirt, shooting daggers at her with your eyes. your friend pointed to the dozen bites covering her legs and arms with a grimace. holy cow.

how had you not noticed them earlier? but then again, you‘d felt a little groggy and disoriented right after waking up, vision still blurry and that lightbulb up there not fully functioning yet.

throats all irritated and scratchy, you both struggled to catch your breaths between bouts of coughing. it was clear ningning had used way too much.

you gestured urgently toward the door, but ningning was preoccupied battling a tiny mosquito buzzing around her head. insects always turned your usually rational friend into a bit of a hysterical mess.

without hesitation, you grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the room.

before you could breathe in the fresh, fume-free air, however, your body collided with something hard. the girl who had been just inches behind you crashed into you, knocking you over.

“oh, for fuck’s sake,” you muttered, frustration bubbling up. why did your intuition about the trajectory of today have to be so far off?

your fall was cushioned by something soft and very much alive. holding your spinning head, you tried to push ningning off your back while simultaneously struggling to get up from whoever you had just taken down with you.

the frantic apology you were preparing got stuck in your throat as you looked down at the gorgeous adonis underneath you.

silky black strands of hair framed his sunkissed face, and his eyes were sharp and narrow. in theory, their design should‘ve made him look angry and serious, especially after being tackled to the ground so forcefully.

instead, he stared at you in wide-eyed surprise. “wait, aren‘t you the girl from the airport? i remember you. yeah, you were wearing a blue babydoll top, weren‘t you? you almost got knocked over.“

your eyes fell to the heart-shaped birthmark on his neck. realization dawned on you. you remembered catching a glimpse of that peculiar spot on his neck under the gray hood he‘d been wearing just a day prior.

“you‘re the one who saved me from falling.“

“i guess you came to take revenge on us.“ much to your surprise, he appeared completely indifferent to finding himself intimately acquainted with the floor. his laugh was rich and infectious, his eyes twinkling merrily. god, he was cute.

he promptly got up off the floor and extended a chivalrous hand to you, helping you up in one swift motion, the muscles in his arms flexing deliciously.

the strong grip on your hand and the gentle pull willed your face to stop mere inches away from his. you could feel his warmth radiating and caught a faint scent of his cologne. your eyes locked for a moment, and it was hard to keep a neutral facade—to act like this hadn’t just completely derailed your train of thought.

his surprise at the sudden proximity faded into something softer, the twinkling of his eyes reminiscent of the glimmering water of lago di garda underneath the evening sun.

this man had you writing poetry about him, and you didn‘t even know his name.

a cough interrupted the moment, drawing your attention. "i hate to interrupt, but technically, i’m on the floor because of you. so, can someone lend a hand before you two carry on with the romancing?“

heat seared across your face. you hurried to assist ningning, who had just borne witness to you drooling over some handsome stranger after you'd pushed her so callously to the ground. this man was undeniably good-looking, though, so you hoped she’d understand.

forget bros before hoes. as far as ningning was concerned, the more hoes for y/n, the better. you really were that bitchless. it wasn’t like you hadn‘t had your fair share of what you affectionately referred to as your gentleman callers, but unfortunately the only men you were attracted to were either fictional and/or two dimensional (literally). so you ogling at a living, breathing specimen of the opposite sex truly called for celebration.

another hand beat you to helping ningning up, belonging to a man slightly taller than the stranger you’d collided with. he possessed slender limbs, an elegant face with a mole beneath his right eye, and a rosy blush tinting his cheeks against silver hair.

he pointed to himself with a cheeky grin. “and i‘m the culprit of the hit and run. glad my man jay here,“ he draped an arm around the other man, “took such good care of you.“

although his words were aimed at you, his gaze remained fixed on ningning as if she were a rare gem on display. the object of his attention couldn’t help but laugh incredulously at the absurdity of the situation.

his friend, jay, freed himself from his grasp. “that’s not really something to brag about,“ he chided his friend with an exasperated sigh. “well, this is sunghoon, my idiotic best friend but i swear he‘s alright?“ the last bit came out more like a question.

was he really alright, like mentally, jay wondered as he watched his friend unabashedly checking out ningning from head to toe, the grin on his face growing impossibly wider, giving off an air of mischief jay had grown accustomed to over the years.

“and who might you be?“ sunghoon incquired in a sultry tone, eyes lingering a tad too long on the pink pajama shorts your best friend was still wearing.

“if i tell you, will you promise to finally stop doing that,“ she gestured to his face with a frown, “weird eyebrow thing you have going on?“

sunghoon, who had indeed been wiggling his eyebrows while squinting and puckering his lips, attempted to defend himself. "i was aiming for 'man of your dreams' but i'll take the feedback," he grumbled, straightening up and relaxing his features. when he wasn‘t contorting his face, he didn‘t look half bad—he was almost as handsome as his companion, though you were clearly biased in that regard.

ningning breathed a sigh of relief, as if finally cured of a long period of intense suffering. “much, much better. and, as promised, i‘m ningning. and,“ shifting the attention to you as she nodded in your direction affectionately, “this is y/n.“

“sorry, for earlier,“ sunghoon apologized impishly, rubbing the back of his neck after receiving a warning glare from ningning.

“no harm done.“

“a lovely name for a lovely lady,“ jay remarked with a charming smile. if he was indeed flirting, you were relieved that his approach was far more refined compared to his friend’s antics. a true gentleman caller indeed.

wait—he was flirting with you? the tingling sensation that swept through your body embarrassed you enough to avert your eyes at record speed. who would’ve thought that not only would you one day find a man you actually found sorta attractive, but that he’d also be trying to woo you with his irresistible charms?

lovely, lovely ningning, the incarnation of cupid herself, someone who knew you inside out, backwards and forwards, immediately picked up on the vibes. a cunning smile tugged at her lips.

“so,“ she clapped her hands together, “would you guys,“ stare lingering on jay specifically, “like to join us for breakfast? we,“ glancing at you, “would be glad for some company.“

you weren‘t quite sure whether to strangle ningning or kiss her. if she wanted to play matchmaker, right now wasn‘t really an appropriate time. a summer fling, or, god forbid, a summer romance wasn't really what you were looking for. you thought about the reason that had necessitated your escape in the first place and shuddered. 2d men would be a much safer option.

the redhead, noticing this, gave you an encouraging smile as she touched your arm. it‘s going to be alright, she seemed to say. the tension in your body relaxed slightly.

sunghoon, completely oblivious to the very obvious scheme ningning was planning, swung his arm around jay‘s shoulder, squeezing him way too tight. he stared him down with huge, unsettling orbs and an over-the-top smile. “we would love to. right, jay?“

not a single person in this hallway was being very subtle about their intentions. it all felt a little too bizarre to be real.

jay regarded you with an unreadable expression. his gaze lingered, unwavering and deep, as if trying to read you.

finally, his face relaxed into a pleasant smile. “right, sunghoon.“

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

“i like women with opinions. so hot.“

ningning glanced at you discreetly, her face a silent cry for help.

sunghoon had his head resting on his arms, looking dreamily at the redhead sitting in front of him. it wasn‘t that your best friend wasn‘t accustomed to attention from both boys and girls, but no one had ever been so weird about it. his excessive fluttering eyelashes and exaggerated sighs made it difficult to take him seriously, as if he were a man who'd just experienced the most mind-blowing orgasm of his life and was now asking for another round.

even jay seemed lost for words, shooting sunghoon some serious side-eyes, unable to flatten his facial expression into anything other than a mix of mortified amusement and concern for his friend‘s mental state.

“has anyone told you that you‘re a bit peculiar?“ ningning asked, taking a sip from her orange juice, her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized sunghoon.

“oh yeah, all the time, but it sounds so much sexier when you say it,“ sunghoon replied with a playful grin.

“okay, time to switch the subject.“ jay needed to cut off sunghoon before he‘d start spouting even more unhinged nonsense. “we‘ve established ningning is a pre-law student who can kick ass. so, y/n, how do you go about insulting stupid people?“

“oh, i might not say it to your face but i will use you for inspiration as a villain in one of my stories and make you suffer. like, a lot.“ you shrugged nonchalantly, as if that was a completely normal thing to say.

“creative, i like that,“ jay chuckled. “so i take it you‘re a writer then?“

wildly embarrassed all of a sudden, you played with the fresh strawberries on your plate. “not exactly. i‘m an english major and, well, i do enjoy writing in my spare time. but it‘s nothing to write home about, really.“

in truth, you had a few short stories published online and plenty of my hero academia fanfics on ao3, but revealing that would literally shatter your dignity into a million tiny, irreparable pieces.

“what about you?“ you quickly asked jay, shifting the spotlight away from yourself. you were accustomed to avoiding attention, fearing that someone (usually your parents) might uncover and critique your flaws. “let me guess. you’re obviously very knowledgeable when it comes to fashion, so… fashion design, perhaps!“

jay was impeccably dressed and styled. at the airport, he had sported a more relaxed and comfortable look, but today he was wearing a dark blue polo shirt, white shorts, and wristwatch that caught the sunlight. the golden earrings added a touch of chic to his ensemble.

what had really given you the notion in the first place, however, was the fact that he started meticulously analyzing the outfit of every single person in the room the moment you entered, providing a long-winded commentary about the latest fashion trends from all across the globe. you could only hope that the white shirt dress you had on was jay-approved.

“sooo close,“ he chuckled ironically. “it‘s actually business administration and management.“

this revelation made you tilt your head curiously. jay did exude a hint of businesslike demeanor at first glance, but his personality was far from aloof. you had expected something different, something more tailored to his personality, that‘s all.

it was nice to get to know what the two strangers at the table were like, and you listened fondly to the stories ningning was telling, even though you‘d already heard them hundreds of times. you starred in most of them anyway.

the only issue was that jay seemed very interested in you. why would this be an issue, a sane person might ask. a hot, fashionable man with good manners showing interest in you. boo hoo. go jump off a cliff.

you internally scolded yourself for being so tense, but it wasn‘t easy to just let go and relax. just how much of yourself could you give away without going from a hot mess to just straight-up professional problem collector? if only you had the superpower to come up with half-truths on the spot that could make you sound way cooler than you were, but you weren‘t ningning. you were creative, yes, as illustrated by your artistic pursuits, but that creativity needed to simmer and only came loose when it wanted to. you couldn‘t summon it in an instant. you probably came across like a proper snooze-fest with the way all of your answers were as specific as a fortune cookie.

if jay was deterred by this, it didn‘t show. he was like a gold digger searching for the treasure. in this case, something you could talk about without restraint. he sensed an active inner world and was convinced he just needed to show enough genuine interest to coax it out of you. if only he knew the right things to say—

“don‘t ignore me.“ sunghoon crossed his arms in front of his chest, pouting like a kicked puppy. “if i don‘t get attention, i‘ll die.“

“much better,“ he said solemnly, when everyone turned to him, swiftly ignoring the raised eyebrows.

“ningning. i need one of your sexy opinions. hotdogs? are they a sandwich?“

the redhead blinked blankly, momentarily forgetting to chew on her food. “excuse me, what?“

“is a hotdog a sandwich,“ he repeated as if it were the most normal question in the world.

“no? yes. no! what?“ you‘d never seen your best friend so lost for words. she opened and closed her mouth, spluttering in confusion.

“shouldn‘t it be though? there‘s bread on two opposite sides.“

“but a hotdog is just a hotdog, and a sandwich is just a sandwich,“ she contemplated, treating the question with more seriousness than the situation required.

“look,“ she said, pointing the fork at him, “one has two separate pieces of bread, and the other is a sliced bun.“

“yeah, they don‘t have the same shape either,“ you chimed in. “and a hot dog has the bread on the sides, but a sandwich has it on the top and bottom.“

“would you then agree that a hot dog is a taco?“

say what now?

he shrugged. “they‘re the same shape, so according to your logic, a hotdog would be a taco.“

ningning thought about this. “i guess it would be more of a taco than a sandwich.“

“that wasn‘t the point i was trying to make.“ sunghoon muttered displeased.

“actually,“ jay had pulled out his phone, “according to merriam-webster, a sandwich is defined as having two or more slices of bread or a split roll with a filling in between. this would mean that a hotdog is, in fact, a sandwich. however—“

“ha, i told you so. guess i know more than you after all, mon chéri,“ sunghoon taunted ningning, relishing in riling her up. did he know whom he was messing with? arguing with the redhead was as safe as juggling chainsaws.

ningning folded her arms. “that‘s literally complete bullshit. have they literally never seen a sandwich before?“

“if you would let me finish,“ jay raised his voice, lips pressed into a tight line, unamused by their bickering, “the washington post argues that classification can be done by applying the cube rule, which categorizes food by the placement of starch. and hot dogs are defined by starch on the bottom and on two opposing sides.“

“so basically, what you‘re trying to say is—actually, i have no idea what you just said. i guess we just have to agree to disagree, sweetheart.“ sunghoon winked at ningning. she looked like she was about to jump at him and stab him with her fork.

ningning didn‘t lose. that was a fact. as a middle schooler, she‘d had a reputation for obliterating even the most raunchy, sexist, homophobic, xenophobic, everything-phobic boys into submission. then, during high school, she‘d been known as the undefeated wrecking ball at every debate tournament, serving up verbal beatdowns like they were free samples at costco.

winning pointless discussions was what she did best.

the back-and-forth continued, phones were pulled out, receipts shown.

“yeah, i don‘t think i‘m as invested in this as they are.“ you said to jay, accompanied by a wry sigh.

“me neither.“

he was secretly glad it gave him the chance to return to the earlier conversation. what should he focus on? what moved you? you‘d been so humble about your writing; he was sure there must be more.

“you said you liked to write? any plans on becoming a published author then?“

a bitter laugh escaped you before you could stop it. you scrambled to cover it up by putting on a totally-not-forced smile. definitely not the best choice of topic.

you were the only daughter of an affluent family and expected successor to a big hotel chain. your parents had nearly combusted when you‘d chosen to study english at a smallish public university instead of sticking to the meticulously mapped-out 200-step life plan for you.

step one: no room for defiance.

step two: exceed perfection.

the arts were only ever desirable when they were being consumed, not pursued. they didn‘t understand that someone had to create that art in the first place for others to appreciate it.

writing fiction was akin to attending a formal dinner party butt-nacked, as far as your parents were concerned anyway. they judged your devotion to made-up stories as disgraceful.

despite all of your attempts to escape your so-called destiny, your parents never gave up trying to mold you into someone you weren‘t—an impossible version of yourself they expected you to eventually accept. your true personality was dismissed as “just a phase.“

desperately clinging onto your dreams, you knew that what had transpired right before your escape had the power to alter the trajectory of your entire life.

the room was quieter than a mime convention as you contemplated your life choices, wondering why there couldn’t have been an instruction manual for when shit like this happens.

jay furrowed his eyebrows. “parental issues, i assume?“

good thing your jaw was securely attached to your skull because— “how on earth? are you some kind of psychic or what?”

he gave an unperturbed shrug. “isn‘t it always parental issues, though?“

“true.“ you sipped on your water, eyeing him suspiciously. you couldn‘t believe you were that easy to read, more transparent than a freshly cleaned windowpane. mastering the art of hiding your true thoughts and feelings was the one superpower you had to learn in order to avoid nuclear-level arguments with your parents.

jay regarded you with an unreadable expression before his lips curled into a gentle smile, making you almost forget that you were supposed to be in full-on panic mode.

“so i guess you‘re here to forget all about that? tenno really is a beautiful place. it‘s so easy to put aside all of your worries once you‘re up here.“

“i think so too,“ you nodded enthusiastically, relieved that he wasn‘t going to press on about the whole parental issues thing. “it was all ningning‘s idea to come. she said she knew just the right spot, so here we are. i gather you‘ve been here before?“

“hundreds of times,“ he said. you noticed he had a tendency to trail off into laughter the end of his sentences.

“actually, i’ve been wondering—have you made any plans yet? sunghoon and i were going to walk to the art colony not far from here. not only is the route is lovely, but i think it might speak to your artistic side. what do you say?“

hell yes, you thought, but then remembered it was probably embarrassing to be so excited about spending time with someone you literally didn‘t even know.

“ningning?“ you tapped your friend on the elbow, prompting her to abrubtly cease arguing with sunghoon, leaving the silver-haired man to sulk.

“do you want to go with them today? they‘re visiting an art colony. we haven‘t planned anything, right?“

you tried to keep the pleading puppy eyes in check, hoping she hadn‘t secretly arranged any plans yet. looking at art? sounds perfect. looking at art with a hot guy? fucking amazing.

“as long as he admits that i am right,“ ningning rolled her eyes at sunghoon who regarded her with a scoff.

“you wish, mon chér—ouch.“

you had enough tact to pretend not to have noticed jay kicking sunghoon under the table.

“fine. you win this round, sweetheart.“

ningning stuck out her tongue at him and did a little victory dance. seemed like you weren‘t the only one in a good mood.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

the art colony was a medieval village named canale di tenno. as you strolled through its cobblestone streets, you immediately noticed the unusually tall stone houses, some four or even five stories high, every wall slanted and crooked. you admired their rustic facades and flower-adorned balconies.

you moved under archways and through narrow alleys, all leading to the piazzetta, the village square, where a few cozy restaurants were located. especially for someone from a big city, this small and rural village with its forty residents and handful of art galleries and shops felt like a 180 degree switch to the skyscrapers and anonymous crowds of seoul. vibrant artwork was displayed on most of the windowsills and you were welcomed with genuine enthusiasm everywhere you entered.

jay grew more and more attractive with each passing minute, acting as a tour guide and sharing his extensive knowledge about the village and its people with you.

he was now leading you through the historic house museum, known as the casa degli artisti, dedicated to the renowned italian artist giacomo vittone. the museum not only paid homage to his contribution to the arts, but the collection also featured works by other artists who‘d been inspired by the region.

the owner greeted jay like an old friend, patting him on his back as he gave him a hug followed by a kiss on each cheek. jay conversed in fluent italian, gushing over the new pieces of art that had been added since his last visit. your handsome stranger seemed to know a lot about many of the individual artworks and personally guided you through the exhibitions.

meanwhile, ningning and sunghoon seemed to be in their own little bubble, bickering for the majority of the time, but you could tell it was all in good fun. if you weren’t mistaken, and you rarely were when it came to your best friend, ningning had taken a liking to the silver-haired man. she did like being challenged, though not as much as she liked to win, and she was definitely more than capable of dealing with all the teasing and pestering he made use of to secure her attention.

you weren’t really focused on the pair, if you were being honest. you’d always been a fan of the arts, fascinated by the way literature and art intersected in many places.

you eagerly bombarded jay with question after question about the pieces, any traces of shyness had vanished, replaced by a thirst for knowledge. he smiled to himself and did his best to answer, happily delving into discussions about the color palettes and artistic forms with you, delighted to see you coming out of your shell.

after having gone through each piece in extensive length, you went into a tiny store selling art goods.

the moment you stepped in, your eyes darted from one corner to the other, heart swelling with joy, unsure where to look first. if you could have, you would have bought everything they were selling. each and every piece had been crafted by hand, none of that factory-produced stuff. all the goods were unique to the village, to that store. how you wished you could’ve properly supported the local community and all its artists.

fleeing home in a hurry meant you hadn‘t been able to exchange your korean wons to euros, and most places here didn’t have card readers.

besides, you were sick and tired of being reliant on mommy‘s and daddy‘s money. all you‘d ever wanted was to support yourself by writing novels. being dependent on your parents was one thing, but the thought of being dependent on… well, him. you shook your head to rid yourself of that painful feeling. real life could wait.

everyone ventured off on their own, taking their time to absorb the treasures inside the room for as long or as little as they liked.

at a table just behind the corner stood an army of little frog figurines made of clay, painted a muddy green. the whimsical creatures with their silly little faces warmed your heart. it was a bit strange; they were only frogs after all, yet you couldn’t help but feel an immediate attachment to them.

“they‘re beautiful, aren‘t they?“ jay appeared soundlessly by your side.

you nodded. he gently lifted one to his eyes and inspected it closely, focusing on a peculiar spot under its eye. “this one kinda looks a bit like sunghoon.“

“oh, i see it.“

you picked up another one. “and this one‘s you.“ the paint had chipped off a little at the neck in exactly the shape of a heart.

jay pointed to another one and said it looked like you.

you tilted your head to the side, staring at the frog with a puzzled expression. “how come?“

“it‘s cute.“

heat rushed to your cheeks. he looked straight at you, face completely serious.

you quickly averted your eyes. the intensity in which he studied you was too much. it made you feel a little self-conscious.

ignoring your erratic heartbeat, you continued going through the frogs, the perfect excuse not to look back up at jay. rather coincidentally, since you weren‘t really focusing on the task at hand, you found the remaining missing member of your little frog community. a tiny amphibian with lovely wide eyes bore a striking resemblance to your best friend. give her a wig and voilá—amphibian ningning.

not only did jay end up buying the four frogs, but he also insisted on getting lunch for all of you. ningning and you tried to protest, but sunghoon, already used to his friend‘s generous spending sprees, ordered an obscene amount of food as if it were the last time he would eat ever. ningning and you still felt bad about leeching off jay when both of your families were rolling in dough, but there was no point arguing with the man.

by the time everyone had finished, you felt like you were about to burst any minute. despite having to soothe your aching tummies, it was worth it. the polenta e funghi you‘d had… fucking hell.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

the way back to the hotel felt much more tedious than when you‘d walked to canale di tenno. the blisters on your feet screamed for mercy, unwilling to continue trotting under the glistening sun. your full bellies dragged you down, inviting you to lie down on the grass and close your eyes for a moment.

“how come you knew the owner of the museum so well?“ you inquired, curious to learn more about jay. you walked side by side, with ningning and sunghoon a little ahead.

“oh, i thought i mentioned it. he’s actually a distant relative of mine. i‘m not quite sure. i think he is my great aunt‘s husband‘s sister‘s husband or something like that? yeah, sounds about right.“ he rubbed the back of his neck. “he and his wife rejected the luxury of our family name and she moved here to live with him, where they'd first met and fallen in love. we haven‘t been here since they got married; i'm barely even allowed to mention him to my parents. we‘re not known for being very tolerant.“

he clenched his teeth. he hated how his family had acted. was acting. he liked his great-great-uncle, admired him even.

“i wish i had the courage to be more like him, to bravely go against expectation.“

you nodded thoughtfully. “sometimes our hearts don‘t want what others have picked out for us.“

he gave you a meaningful look, but you couldn‘t decipher it.

you were walking uphill now, labored breaths escaping you with every step. ningning and sunghoon appeared to be immersed in some conversation that required a lot of gestures, judging by their constant arm movements, but they were too far ahead, fueled by their competitive energy, for you to hear.

you watched their backs as you listened to the birdsong accompanying your journey. you closed your eyes for just a second, enjoying the lovely melody, but that was all it took. you misstepped.

jay‘s reflexes kicked in just a tick too late, and there you were, crouching on the ground, face contorted in pain, clutching your ankle. you tried to stand, but the sharp pain that shot up your foot forced you back down with a yelp. the pair ahead of you quickly rushed back to you upon hearing your agonized howl.

“let me take a look,” jay said gently.

reluctantly, you allowed him to examine your ankle, wincing as the prodded it with a gentle touch. “it hurts like a bitch.”

“it‘s swollen; i think you sprained it. you shouldn‘t walk on it, or it‘ll get worse.“

“oh, my sweet little darling! i’ll get you back safely, don’t worry. hop on.“ ningning stood with a slight forward lean, ready to receive the weight.

sunghoon affectionately tapped her head and chuckled. "it’s nice that you’re so concerned, but don’t you think it would be much easier if either jay or i carried her? not to brag or anything, but i'm pretty strong."

sunghoon‘s enthusiasm faded into mortification as he caught the warning in jay's eyes.

"or… jay can carry y/n since he is much, much stronger than i am. yes, big biceps and all that good stuff. loads of muscle. umm, if you know, you know.“

you probably had no choice but to continue the journey on jay’s back. putting pressure on your foot hurt so bad and bruises already started to form a purplish-red hue.

before you could even think about protesting, he effortlessly scooped you up and adjusted you onto his back. hands secured around his neck and shoulders, you could feel his strong muscles at work as he resumed walking.

despite the situation, you couldn‘t help but feel a little flustered being so close to him. ningning winking at you from the side probably didn‘t help much either.

jay didn't complain even once about the extra weight. on the contrary, he continued talking so effortlessly, as if he weren’t carrying an entire person on his back.

“you know, this reminds me of a hike i did in the rockies last year,“ he began, voice calm and steady. “except it was sunghoon who twisted his ankle, and i had to carry him.“

you laughed softly. “it‘s insane that you‘re not even breaking a sweat, especially, in this heat,“ you said, shaking your head in disbelief.

you felt him shrug. “years of hiking and a bit of gym time,“ he replied nonchalantly. “plus, i think carrying a beautiful girl might be giving me an extra burst of energy.“

it sure was a good thing that he couldn't see your face at that moment. your cheeks burned hot as he continued making light conversation.

jay‘s relaxed demeanor helped you forget the throbbing pain in your ankle for the most part, allowing you to genuinely enjoy the rest of the walk. with no need to focus on where you were stepping anymore, you could fully take in the view, catching glimpses of a lake glimmering through the trees.

when you reached the hotel, you experienced a confusing mix of relief and disappointment as jay gently set you down. “there you go, safe and sound.“

jay went to find some ice for your ankle, and ningning retrieved painkillers from her suitcase.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

for dinner, you indulged in strangolapreti—spinach and ricotta dumplings served with a sage and butter sauce—and some pollo alla cacciatora, hunter‘s chicken cooked in a tomato and herb sauce. jay used his perfect italian to inquire about the restaurant’s finest wines, settling on a bottle of teroldego rotaliano, made from grapes native to the trentino region. because of your stupid ankle and reliance on painkillers, however, you didn't have more than just a sip or two.

after a second bottle, some gelato and more ibuprofen for your ankle, the group decided to spend the rest of the evening playing card games, which led to some rather… let‘s say interesting bets.

"i’ll let you bleach my eyebrows and dye them pink if i lose."

"if i win, i‘m going to draw dicks on your faces."

“you have to do a hundred push-ups wearing a maid costume.“

none of the bets— or so you thought— ended up being actualized since you were far too gone far too soon. the moment your head hit the pillow, you drifted off to dreamland, the sharpie shlong on your chin moving with every soft snore.

stupid, fucking ankle. why won’t you work the way you’re supposed to?!

you felt bad beyond measure. the last thing you wanted was to spoil your friends’ fun just because your ankle decided to act like a major bitch right now.

during lunch the day before, ningning had suggested a drive down to lago di garda to explore the towns there, and you wished they would just go do exactly that today.

ignoring your pleading looks, they insisted on staying at the hotel with you but what kind of shitty friend would you be if you were to allow that.

“please just go and don‘t worry about me. i‘ll be fine here on my own. there’s plenty to enjoy—good food and maybe i’ll go chill by the pool or whatever.“

ningning, whose cheeks were stuffed with strawberries, making her look like a cute little chipmunk, shook her head vehemently. “how could we just leave you here? girl, i didn’t drag you all across the globe just to abandon you. nope, i‘m staying.” she motioned vaguely toward the guys. “these two can go, but i’m not leaving you, especially not when you‘re in such a vulnerable position right now. i really don't—“

you shot her a sharp look, halting her mid-sentence. you didn’t want to be rude, but your current predicament really was none of their business.

“yo, we‘re not heartless (well, not completely)… if you‘re stayin’, we‘re stayin‘.“ what sunghoon meant by that was that he was going to follow wherever ningning would go. probably.

you nervously looked between the three of them. “but ningning, i know you‘ve been wanting to visit sirmione. you‘ve been talking about finding that restaurant your grandma used to take you to as a kid, right?“

ningning pouted. it was true. in recent years, her grandma’s illness had prevented her from making the trip with the rest of the family and her passing still weighed heavily on ningning, who had cherished her dearly. the old lady had been your best friend‘s favorite person in the whole world. next to you, goes without saying.

“and sunghoon,“ you turned to him, “you were so excited when we made these plans yesterday. it’s your first time here so you haven‘t had the chance to explore the region either.“

jay hummed thoughtfully. “what about this: ningning and sunghoon take the drive down to the lake. i’ll stay with you. i‘ve been here countless times and have seen everything there is to see.“

now, see, you wanted to protest, you really did, but he did have a valid point. you were less concerned about him missing out than you were with sunghoon and ningning, and let's face it, the selfish desire to have him all to yourself was enough to make you waver. not only was he the most handsome man you‘d ever laid eyes on, including your 2d crushes—okay, maybe not as good-looking as todoroki—, but there was also something else simmering beneath the surface that you just couldn‘t wrap your mind around. you wanted to know what it was.

ningning caught your eye and smirked knowingly. yes, this was perfect. now she could leave you in good conscience. there was no way she‘d let you refuse now.

“have fun, you two,“ she hollered over her shoulder as she practically dragged a bewildered sunghoon away.

“poor ningning. i kinda feel bad for leaving her alone with sunghoon. again.“

you waved off his concern. “you should be worried for sunghoon‘s sake. trust me when i say ningning can handle herself.“

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

“guess you‘re stuck here with me now.”

you were both lying on sun loungers by the pool, enjoying the gentle breeze that swirled around you. you had brought a book with you, anne of green gables to be exact (one of your favorites), expecting jay to swim a couple of laps, but instead, he stayed glued to your side.

“poor me,” he said with a teasing smile, placing his hand on his chest in fake agony. “spending my time with a beautiful girl. life really gives the toughest battles to its strongest soldiers.”

you bit the inside of your cheek to keep you from grinning. “whatever.”

“what about this? we have some lunch and then—do you remember the lake you saw through the trees yesterday?—we can walk down there. it only takes five to ten minutes, so carrying you won‘t be a problem.”

“please don‘t! if you want to go, don't mind me. i‘ll be fine here.”

he wouldn‘t hear of it. “ah, ah, ah, no way! i‘m the one who really wants to show you the lake, so don‘t feel bad. besides, i’m a hundred percent confident you‘ve never seen anything that beautiful.“

“not even lago di garda?”

“not even close.”

he spoke with such confidence and self-assurance you felt it would be an insult to refuse.

the path to lago di tenno was a winding descent, flanked by dense greenery and the distant murmur of water. despite the uneven terrain and the extra weight he was bearing, jay‘s pace was unhurried and smooth.

as you approached the lake, the path leveled out and the view opened up to the sparkling water, an almost surreal shade of turquoise glistening under the midday sun. the lake‘s surface was remarkably still, only disturbed by the occasional ripple from a fish darting below. surrounded by the unbelievably clear water was a small landmass featuring lush greenery, known as isola di tenno.

standing there and taking it all in, you felt peace settle within you. the fir and pine trees of the surrounding forests climbing the steep hillsides lent an earthy aroma to the crisp air.

it was as if time had slowed down, the distant chirping of birds and the gentle rustle of leaves adding to the harmonious symphony of nature.

jay‘s lips curved into a smile at the sight of your awestruck face. “i‘m glad i was right.“

you stayed at the shore and watched him wade into the lake. the cool water rose slowly up his legs, glistening as it clung to his sunkissed skin. you had to force yourself to look away, feeling like some kind of creepy stalker.

you let him enjoy the tranquility of the lake as you sat on the blanket you had brought with you. opening your trusty sketchbook, you scanned the landscape, wondering how you could capture its divine beauty on paper. your hand started moving on its own, inspiration from all around filling your heart and soul.

a sudden voice made you jump. “i didn‘t know you could draw so well. but i guess i shouldn’t be so surprised. you really did seem to be into all the art stuff yesterday.“

jay was bending down next to you, water dripping from his hair onto the blanket, looking at the page. “this is really good.“

“you think so?“ you asked. he hummed as he dried his hair with a towel.

“i‘ve always enjoyed drawing and painting. when i was younger, i used to write short stories about my childhood dog, a bearded collie named conan—yes, i named him after watching detective conan. such a good show, by the way. have you ever watched it? i don‘t know if i‘m allowed to say this as an english major, but it‘s sooo much better than the original sherlock holmes stories. i mean, there are very different, but i guess what i‘m trying to say is that they really don‘t hit the same, you know. they‘re kinda boring, actually. all the media inspired by the original sherlock holmes is so much better. bbc‘s sherlock—“

you only realized you were rambling big time when you ran out of breath. the amused smile on jay‘s face made you wish the ground would swallow you whole.

“anyways, what i was going to say was that as i tried to bring conan alive on the pages, i thought it would be much better if you could see this silly little furball at the same time. so i started incorporating little illustrations of him every now and then.“

“i’ve never read the sherlock holmes books so i can’t really say much about them, but i did use to watch detective conan a lot as a kid (though i used to be kind of scared). conan always looked so cool fighting crime. i think it‘s an awesome name for a dog! do you,“ the eagerness in his voice surprised you, ”do you have anything you can show me?“

your hands were shaking. this felt a little too intimate, if you were being honest. still, he‘d been showing genuine interest—and hadn’t minded your ramblings—and you were in the mood to rave about your adorable dog.

“those are so cute. aww, look at his little scarf.“ he was swiping through your phone‘s gallery (a precarious situation considering the many bakudeku fanarts you had saved in your gallery) giving enthusiastic oohs and aahs when appropriate. there were so many drawings of conan. conan with his dotted red scarf. conan wearing yellow boots. conan chasing his tail. a leaf landing on conan‘s broad snout.

“i really think these are awesome. they seem to capture this little rascal‘s personality very well, and, oh my god, he is just so damn adorable. i wanna squish his fluffy butt cheeks.“

seeing this grown man get so excited about your doodles made you happier than you could‘ve ever imagined. this was exactly the feeling you wanted to evoke with your work. sure, most of your stories were primarily aimed at kids, but you believed that good children‘s books should be just as valuable to an adult, and illustrations played a big underrated role in that.

the fond, childlike look on his face as he studied your drawings started to overwhelm you. you didn‘t know how to react to praise, especially coming from someone who didn‘t know you very well so they had no reason to lie to make you happy.

you had to change the topic or you were legit going to cry. how embarrassing would that be, just straight up bawling because someone liked your drawings.

“what about you?“ you asked to push the attention away from you. “you said you were studying business administration. how‘s that?“

the mood shifted so quickly, it was like someone had flipped a switch. jay didn‘t look up from your phone, now looking at conan in a superhero costume with a serious, almost dejected expression.

giving the phone back, he blinked a couple of times as if trying to blink away unwanted thoughts.

“i mean, there are interesting concepts to learn about.“ he ran a hand through his still damp strands of hair and paused for a moment. “it’s okay, but that’s it, really. but i think you guessed that already.“ he smiled, but it didn‘t quite reach his eyes.

his gaze fixed on something far off into the distance. “there are quite a few jobs i can think of that i‘d rather do. fashion design, professional chef, hip-hop dancer... but unlike you or my great-great-uncle, i‘m not brave. if i‘d really wanted to, i could‘ve defied my parents and chosen a different path. i‘m a coward, y/n.“

you put a hand on his arm. “i don‘t know your circumstances in detail, but i understand that standing up for yourself can be more difficult than it seems. i‘m not sure what gave you the impression that i'm brave because i'm really not. despite everything, i‘m still nothing more than my parents‘ marionette.“

his sigh betrayed an uncharacteristically sorrowful heaviness.

“yet you still decided to pursue writing and drawing even though i can tell that decision must’ve not been an easy one. i know they mean well, my parents. they certainly think their plans will make me happy. i don’t think they understand. i’m not sure if i‘ve tried hard enough to make them… after all, how could they—“ his voice rose as he looked up at you with a furious expression, but he cut himself off, a horrified look on his face. he quickly collected himself again. “you know what? it doesn‘t matter. i don‘t want to think about it.“

you didn‘t press on. while you did want to comfort the inner child hurting so obviously inside him, to hug him and tell him he wasn‘t a coward and that he could be strong too, you felt like it wasn‘t your place to do so. he had set boundaries and you, practically only a stranger, weren‘t going to cross them.

it was interesting to see that your seemingly perfect stranger was not leading such a perfect life after all. you felt a little guilty, but it was reassuring in a way.

the silence that followed wasn‘t particularly uncomfortable though, both of you lost in your own thoughts.

the natural beauty and quietude all around you elicited a dreamy sigh from you.

"oh, why didn‘t i think of bringing a canvas and some paint down here with me? i guess i wasn't expecting to fall in love with this place so much. i just want to capture this moment for eternity, you know?"

"you mean like a picture?" he teased. you playfully glared at him. he held up both his hands. "kidding, just kidding. let me go grab one for you!"

as he began to rise, you placed a hand on his arm to prevent him from standing. his skin was cold under your fingers and the unexpected contact sent shivers down your spine.

"oh no, stay! please, i don't want you to have to walk all the way up there. we can just bring it tomorrow."

jay quirked an eyebrow. it took you a few seconds to understand that you had just insinuated he would have to carry you down here again the next day.

"ah, no, i‘m sorry. i kind of already forgot about my little handicap. you should definitely go do something nice instead.“

"but this is nice,“ he insisted. “something about the water and watching you draw so peacefully makes me feel at ease. life is going to be stressful enough when i have to return home. and simply said, i like sitting here and looking at the view." he winked at you and you suddenly felt a little braver.

"what was that? are you flirting with me, park?" you held your head high as you said this.

"and what if i am?"

your cheeks felt uncomfortably hot. even though you‘d responded to his wooing, you now had your tail between your legs and pretended to immerse yourself in your drawing again, doing your best to ignore the foreign feeling bubbling up inside your chest.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

late that evening, you lay in bed talking to ningning about your day.

she animatedly recounted the story of how they‘d found the restaurant she used to visit with her grandmother so many years ago. the owner had still recognized her, despite so much time having passed, and had prepared the most delicious lunch for them. sunghoon waited patiently—and surprisingly quietly—as the two ladies shared stories about ningning‘s grandmother. he even tried to cheer her up afterward by making a fool of himself in public (“he looked like he was doing a rendition of the ‘there‘s squirrels in my pants’ dance“) when she‘d started crying, suddenly overwhelmed by grief.

“he can be really nice when he wants to be. i think he‘s just a little,“ she drew out the last word, “bonkers, but our energies kind of match, if you know what i mean? he attacks, i strike back. he talks shit, i tell him why he's wrong. it’s like a game. there’s definitely never a boring moment when he’s around, i’ll give him that. oh, stop looking at me like that!“ she dismissed the smirk on your face. “it‘s really not like that. man, i saw him picking his nose, that shit turns you off. and when he came back from the bathroom, his fly was open. nothing romantic‘s going on here, i promise! but i do think we could be friends.“

she clapped her hands together, super excited all of a sudden. “enough about me. how‘s it going with your handsome stranger?“ she wiggled her eyebrows at you.

your handsome stranger. right. because that‘s what he was. no matter that your heart went into overdrive whenever he‘d look at you, and no matter how much he’d made you feel seen and appreciated, you had to remind yourself that you couldn‘t really know someone after only two days. sharing only carefully selected pieces of your stories with each other didn‘t make you close.

"i mean he is really cute," you admitted with a shrug, “but you know i can‘t. i am ‘promised‘ to someone after all.“ there. you finally said it. the issue you‘d been trying so hard to forget.

"so what? it’s not like you’re dating that dude. heck, you don’t even know him yet. i wouldn’t call it cheating if you were to have something going on with jay.“

"i know but it just seems… so pointless. you know i don't do flings but it's not like i can go on dates with him either."

when you‘d come back home, you‘d likely be getting married to someone you didn‘t know and there was not much you could do about it. you wanted to say no, heck you‘d said no plenty of times already, but it was more complicated than that.

“y/n, you can always just refuse.“

“you know it‘s not that easy…“ you clenched your fists. if only you‘d been born into a different family. or maybe if you‘d actually adhered to their life plan, you wouldn‘t be in this mess right now at all.

ningning placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. "i’m sorry, i do know. i promise we’ll find a way for you to take advantage of his fucked-up situation but can‘t you still have a little fun before shit goes down? a kiss or two won't be the end of the world."

bearing that in mind, you came to sit by the lake the next day, trying to steal sneaky glances at jay while you worked on your canvas.

he was wearing a sleeveless shirt that clung to his toned frame, revealing muscular arms and broad shoulders. he had swept his hair back from his forehead, which highlighted his devilishly chiseled jawline and the intensity of his sharp eyes. every sane person would ogle at him, y/n, you told yourself. he was literally the dictionary definition of handsome and sexy, so of course you‘d stare. it was only natural. haha.

the majority of your afternoon was spent transferring your previous day‘s sketch onto the canvas and then painting over the delicate lines. jay kept you entertained, reading to you from his book, and discussing it with you.

while this might not have been a date it definitely felt like one. you read a lot of jane austen, for fuck‘s sake—you realized when something was romantic as hell. painting, reading, yapping, and all that with a hot guy. what a cruel joke. the universe seemed to have its fun taunting you, like dangling a carrot in front of a donkey.

do not be mistaken, you knew this wasn‘t love. something as silly as love at first sight did simply not exist, no matter what many of your favorite fanfics seemed to say. even suggesting you had a crush would be a crude exaggeration. but it was mutual attraction, that you were sure of, and it might have grown into something more, if not for the less-than-ideal circumstances.

what was strange was that after yesterday, jay seemed more restrained. after your little heart-to-heart, if you could even call it that, you‘d started noticing things. if you didn’t look away when his intense gaze fixed on you, you found something else there, lingering in the depths of his dark eyes. hesitancy. sadness. something that felt like… guilt?

you didn‘t know what it was, but this should‘ve been a relief. not that he was potentially struggling with something, of course, but if he‘d been flirting with you without restraint, you might have caved eventually, even though you knew it was wrong.

it was possible you might have just been misreading the signs. you had a more than vivid imagination, after all, which activated mostly in situations where more thinking wasn’t necessarily productive.

he might have just not liked the idea of getting too attached to someone he wasn‘t going to see again. with each stroke of your brush capturing the lake‘s incredible turquoise hue, you pondered whether to give him your phone number or not. the promise of a reunion might soften the unease in jay‘s eyes, you thought, but then again, would you even be able to keep it?

day four of your trip followed a similar pattern to the previous two. ningning and sunghoon ventured off on their own, though still lively “arguing“ with each other (they weren't fooling you), while you and jay walked down to the lake. talking and painting seemed to become your version of wining and dining.

that day, you had packed a second canvas, determined to teach jay the basics of painting.

“theory is important, but practice is where you bring it to life.“

you guided his shaky hands as he made his first stroke.

“start with broad strokes,“ you explained, demonstrating a sweeping motion. “don‘t worry about adding details yet.“

you kneeled behind him, arm draped around his shoulder for support as you leaned forward to place your hand over his.

he tried his best, but despite your brilliant guidance, his inexperience showed. years of looking into the theoretical aspects of art weren’t nearly enough to effectively apply all his knowledge in practice. he gained a newfound appreciation for painting after experiencing firsthand how challenging it could be. though he had to admit that you holding his hand so delicately was certainly distracting him as well.

if you hadn’t been so focused on keeping your racing heart under control, you might have picked up on the way he swallowed nervously.

on the fifth day, you managed to convince the group that your ankle was already much better.

you weren‘t exactly lying, but you weren’t being completely honest either. with rest, ice, and compression, the pain had improved significantly, but walking still wasn‘t as easy as you would‘ve liked.

the thing was, you just couldn‘t trust yourself around jay anymore. the urge to kiss him had completely spiraled out of control. it felt like what you imagined an omega would experience during their heat (not that you had any experience in that regard).

it was hard to keep up the facade of a calm, collected intellectual that was definitely not going insane over a man you’d met not even a week ago. to be fair, that facade had already started crumbling the moment you had outed yourself as a massive nerd, but still. this was worse.

showing him your drawings had been intimate enough, but then painting together—literally your own idea—the day before had been overwhelmingly, unbearably so. being so close to him, it had taken all your willpower not to seize him by his collar, pull him near, and passionately make out with him. but consent and having functioning brain cells were definitely more important, so you held yourself back—just barely.

his ridiculously charming smile, this sunkissed skin, his kind words—they had haunted you in your dreams that night. like okay, we get it. you want him. rein it in, cowboy.

so, for jay‘s own safety and also your sanity, you chose to endure the ache in your ankle as the group explored several towns surrounding lago di garda together.

for lunch, you grabbed fries from a booth and enjoyed them by the lakeside. that was until a seagull came swooping down with a squawk, startling you and causing you to drop your fries. ningning and you left the boys behind on the bench and hurried back to the stall for fresh, dirt-free fries.

"you still haven't kissed her?" sunghoon asked incredulously.

jay shook his head grimly. "i've already told you, i really shouldn't."

“but you want to?“ sunghoon pressed.

jay’s face contorted as if he were in pain. “yeah.“

"we‘re leaving in two days. if you want to kiss the girl, then kiss the girl, my dude. don‘t overthink it. it‘s not like you‘re pretending to be in love with her just to get your dick wet.“

"i didn‘t want to come here in the first place,“ jay said, choosing not to comment on sunghoon‘s blunt choice of words. “i wish i could take her out properly. buy her flowers. a kiss on the third date, if everything goes well and she likes me enough. not… whatever this is."

sunghoon seemed about to say more but quickly closed his mouth when he saw you and ningning approaching.

you stayed by ningning‘s side for most of the day, like a child hiding behind its mother, avoiding interacting with jay as much as possible. you could feel his eyes boring into your back as you walked ahead of him at a safe distance.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

the sky that evening was a canvas painted with the most breathtaking array of colors, transitioning from deep oranges and fiery reds near the horizon to softer pinks and purples higher up. you had dinner back at the hotel and were now sitting outside on the patio, drinking wine.

“oh, just imagine what the lake must look like right now,“ you mused dreamily, resting your head on your hands.

"why don‘t you go and see for yourself?" asked ningning, busy playing sudoku on her phone.

"i don't want to walk back alone in the dark. unless," you draped an arm around her shoulder, "you want to come with me."

ningning chuckled as she removed your arm. "do you know how many blisters i have from all the walking i've been doing?“

"i could come with you," came the suggestion from jay. all heads turned to him. sunghoon smirked at his friend. had he finally grown some balls?

you hesitated. was this really a good idea? you‘d been avoiding him all day for a very good reason.

but the sunset was so exceptionally beautiful; it might not be like this again before you left! oh, you‘d be fine.

so the two of you began the descent down to the lake once more—though you maintained a respectful distance to your companion. the scene was more beautiful than you could’ve ever imagined. the tranquil water of the lake mirrored the spectacular explosion of color in the sky. each ripple on the surface created by the evening breeze seemed to capture a fragment of the sunset, turning the water into a shimmering expanse of gold, pink, and lavender.

you were so entranced by the magical sunset that you momentarily forgot you were supposed to go absolutely feral for the man by your side.

it wasn‘t until the first stars began to twinkle faintly in the night sky, that you stopped walking along the shore taking pictures. the pebbles were cold against your skin as you settled down. siting there, you scrolled through the pictures you‘d taken, fireflies dancing around your heads as you admired what had just been lost to the horizon.

"back home, there is nothing nearly as pretty as this," you said softly.

"back home there is no one as pretty as you either."

you turned your head in surprise. now way you‘d heard him correctly. jay wore a serious expression, his gaze unwavering as he reached to cup your face, brushing a loose strand of hair to the side with his thumb. his eyes dropped to your lips.

“i know this is soon, but i’ll go insane if i don’t ask. can i kiss you?“

you blinked at him, your mind momentarily blank. there were things to be considered here but your brain did not seem to want to produce any thoughts, distracted by the sight of his plump lips and his soft touch. his thumb gently grazed your cheek.

"i only want to do this if you do too. i was trying to resist, but whenever i look at you, my heart starts pounding like crazy, and i keep on wondering if you taste just as sweet as you are."

"okay," you whispered against his lips, almost touching but not quite.

"i need a definite yes," he insisted.

"yes," you breathed out. "kiss me. please,” the last word came out almost pleadingly.

with that, he closed the gap and pressed his lips to yours. his movements were gentle, almost shy at first. jay moved his other hand to your cheek, holding your face delicately.

he let his forehead rest against yours, noses brushing against each other.

"wow," he breathed. you hummed in response, eyes still closed, trying to savor the moment.

you kissed him again, this time tangling your hands in jay's soft black strands while he let his wander down to respectfully rest on your waist. he responded to your kiss almost immediately, deepening it with much enthusiasm. lips parted and met with more vigor than before. the sounds that escaped your lips were all sorts of desperate as he caressed the soft curves of your body.

“finally, my omega is getting what it wants.“

you hadn‘t even realized you‘d said it until he pulled away, confusion in his eyes.

“what?“ he asked, still dazed from the kiss.

“oh, uh… have you ever heard of the omegaverse? a/b/o fics? well, how do i put it? humans are divided into alphas, betas, and omegas. and like omegas have these heat cycles, and when they go into heat, they need a lot of… um, GDDing or they‘ll go insane. good deep dicking? no? so, when they go into heat, they release all those pheromones which the alphas can smell and like they‘ll lose their minds if they don‘t do the GDDing immediately. and then there‘s knotting. that‘s when the alpha‘s penis swells and becomes engorged and then—“

“y/n,“ jay interrupted gently, rubbing his nose against yours affectionately, “i love your ramblings, i really do, and i promise you can tell me all about it later if you’d like. but right now, there‘s something else we could be doing instead?“

you swallowed nervously. “right.“

your own inner omega in heat activated again as soon as he started nibbling on your lower lip. you clung to him desperately, afraid he might let go, eagerly chasing his lips the moment he pulled away even just a little. he tugged you closer, positioning you to straddle him, allowing for a more comfortable angle to kiss. your head was quiet for once, allowing you to simply enjoy the sensation of being touched.

with his mouth on yours and his hands clawing at your waist, you never wanted this moment to end. the heat between you intensified, the world fading into a distant background. every touch, every desperate caress fueled a fire within you, igniting a longing that was almost scary, so intense and foreign was it.

eventually, though, you had to part to catch your breaths. jay rubbed soothing circles on your back with one hand, holding your face in his other as he stared into your eyes, whispering sweet nothings.

there were so many things you wanted to say, but didn't. thoughts of your fiancé back home flooded your mind.

jay continued to whisper sweet nothings as he held you in his arms, but there was so much that was left unspoken between you.

you needed to tell him. maybe he‘d know what to do, how to make this work. not now though; it‘d only ruin this sweet moment. you‘d do it tomorrow.

when each other's bodies were no longer enough to keep you warm, you decided to return to the hotel. he held your hand as you walked up the winding path, each squeeze communicating unspoken words, a silent exchange of emotions.

he bid you goodnight, his lips grazing your forehead. you were left a blushing mess as you went to sleep. ningning's light snores accompanied you as you were gradually transported to dreamland.

"what do you mean they're gone? how can they just be gone? they weren‘t supposed to leave until tomorrow." ningning said, her voice tinged with disbelief. soobin gulped nervously.

“i’m sorry, i don’t know the details. it seemed like an emergency,“ he replied, conveying what little information he had.

gone. they had left without a word. you felt your chest tighten as the reality of their sudden disappearance set in. the abruptness of his departure felt like a slap, leaving a raw, aching void where his presence had been.

“jay did ask me to give you these, though.“ soobin handed you the little frog figurines jay had bought on the first day. a small note was stuck to the underside of the one that resembled you.

i am sorry, please do not hate me. thank you for everything. you truly are special.

ningning and you had no choice but to spend the remainder of your last day alone. sulking by the pool, you lamented the short time spent together. one more day wouldn‘t have been much, but they hadn‘t even left their numbers or any other way to contact them. it was like a punch to the gut, not only to you but to ningning as well.

you wondered if there really had been an emergency. maybe you‘d managed to scare him away with your omagaverse talk. “you truly are special,“ you muttered to yourself bitterly. he probably meant special as in a fucking lunatic. god, who talked about knotting in the middle of making out? at least you hadn‘t gotten to mpreg yet or he'd have bolted immediately.

the next day you boarded an early flight back to seoul. you held onto a faint hope that maybe, just maybe, your mother would at least be relieved you returned safely. any normal parent would be concerned when their child disappeared for a couple of days without a word. only you didn’t have normal parents.

instead of relief, you were greeted with cold fury as your mother watched you enter through the front door. she barely spoke a word, grinding her teeth as she commanded you to go to your room, treating you as if you weren‘t a grown adult.

your room was your sanctuary, your safe space amidst the chaos that was your family. four large shelves divided into regular novels and manga held your literary treasures alongside funko pops of your favorite fictional characters (lots of todoroki and sailor moon). there had been instances where your mother had tried to throw everything out, hell, she’d even torn up some of your books, but you refused to let that force you into submission.

in one last desperate attempt to escape your situation, you chopped off most of your hair. if your “fiancé“ was anything like your, and presumably his, parents then he might just straight up refuse to marry you the moment he‘d see you. you thought the short hair suited you, but people could be incredibly shallow in such matters. you hoped this was one of those times.

“what have you done?“ your mother‘s sharp tone was a mixture of disappointment and outrage. she paced back and forth, gesturing to the remnants of hair strewn across the bathroom floor. “you knew how important today was!“

your mother took a step forward, her face flushed with anger. “you never listen, do you?“ she barked, her voice trembling. “you never consider anyone but yourself.“

you squared your shoulders, meeting her gaze defiantly. “maybe i‘m tired of trying to please you, mother.“

"i‘m trying to protect our family‘s interests,” she retorted, “and sometimes that means making sacrifices for the greater good. this merger with their family‘s hotel chain is crucial for our future. can‘t you see that?“

no matter how you pleaded or reasoned, nothing could sway your mother. you understood how important this merger was to your family‘s business empire, and you weren‘t so ignorant that you couldn‘t acknowledge the potential benefits. yet, you didn‘t understand why you were the one who had to sacrifice their own happiness for the sake of the family. one that had never cared about you, at that.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

the restaurant picked out for this pivotal first meeting with the chosen family exuded opulence and refinement, its interior bathed in the warm glow of chandeliers that reflected off polished wood and marble accents. as you arrived, the other family was already seated at a table near a large window overlooking a serene garden.

the mother of your fiancé greeted yours with a firm handshake, her slender figure clad in a tailored designer suit and exquisite diamonds dangling from her ears. she stood up gracefully upon your entrance, obscuring your view to the man seated behind her.

"park jiyoung, meet y/n, my daughter,” your mother introduced, her tone awfully chippy. “unfortunately, there was an accident at the hairdresser‘s, so please excuse the hair. i‘m sure it will grow out soon.“

under mrs. park’s scrutinizing gaze, which rivaled your own mother’s, discomfort pierced you like a dagger.

"welcome, y/n, to our family. it's nice to finally meet you.“ the fake smile on her lips suggested she hadn’t yet quite approved of you as the most suitable match for her son.

“and this is the pride of our family, park jongseong. i believe you‘ve met."

she stepped to the side, revealing the man sitting behind her. he stood up and reluctantly stepped forward.

he was wearing a dark blue suit that elegantly emphasized his broad shoulders, while his neatly styled black hair gleamed under the soft chandelier lights. his eyes, dark and narrow, were cast downward toward the natural stone flooring. there, discreetly nestled against the skin of his neck, you saw a detail that momentarily froze time for you.

a heart-shaped birthmark.

memories flooded your mind — turquoise waters, steep mountainsides, fireflies swirling around your head, fingers digging into the softness of your skin. standing before you now as park jongseong, the man chosen to be your husband, was unmistakably your jay. the one who had kissed you and told you you were special.

the same jay now seemed less surprised than you felt. he avoided meeting your eyes, looking like a guilty puppy caught in the act, and a suspicion stirred within you that made your stomach churn. you felt sick. impossible, you thought. but looking at the man, no, the stranger in front of you, you weren‘t so sure.

his gaze darted around the room, landing everywhere but on you, as if unable to face the weight of your shared history and the unspoken questions hanging between you. every instinct in you yearned to reach out, to demand answers, to plead with him to acknowledge the bond that had once felt so real. yet, his avoidance spoke louder than words, filling the air with a painful silence that echoed the betrayal you felt.

had it all been just an act?

a/n: omg i love you sm if you made it to the end! reblogs, likes & feedback are always highly appreciated 🫶🏻 🫶🏻🫶🏻

ngl i hope y'all don't hate me for not making this a cute simple love story LMAOO i'm already working on a part 2

here are pictures of lago di tenno btw! i didn’t lie about the color

[lightlycareless]

okay i have a headcanon but what if y/n has this like very new lip balm that has like a really good fragrance and taste to it and naoya is like "what did u put on ur lips" when they kissed

then goes on and buy like 20 of them so she would never run out of it 🏃‍♀️

and naoya gets comments abt how his lips look fuller and hydrated but its just the result of them kissing nonstop because of the lip balm-

Hello anon!!!!!

Now THIS is something I had lots of fun writing hhahahahahahahahahahahahahhaahha specially after that dream I got with the lipstick... everything is alingning....

I genuinely believe Naoya would obsess over something like this—like, he's intoxicated in your scent, now add something sweet/tasty? He's an addict :)

Anyways, I won't say much hehe I hope you enjoy the little drabble I wrote:

warnings: tiniest mentions/implications of nsfw (smut, you know, the deed) and making out. But outside of that, nothing.

Happy reading!

Naoya would first notice something glossy over your lips when meeting up with you for breakfast.

He doesn’t think much of it, except that it looks good, and that it made your lips look even more kissable.

Which obviously, he doesn’t hold back from doing whenever possible, he literally must kiss you once every 5 minutes or he’ll die.

When Naoya eventually kisses you goodbye, off to some other boring mission he needs to do, it’s when he spots the slightest difference from your always welcoming warm and soft lips.

Now, don’t get me wrong, those things were still there much to his heart’s delight, however, a new lingering sweetness would have him dumbfounded for a moment, carefully analyzing this discovery as he licks it up, wondering…

“Did you eat strawberries right now?” You’re no stranger to eating anything sweet that crosses your sight; but that would not be the case—In fact, you’re glad that he noticed, a bright grin quickly forming on your lips as you respond.

“Nope! It’s my new lip balm.” You explain, he raises an eyebrow.

“Lip balm?” Naoya repeats slowly.

“Well actually, a lip balm and an exfoliator! I found them the other day at the mall, that time I went with my staff, remember?” He nods “I was surprised that things like these existed for lips! So, I decided to give it a chance, and I gotta say, my lips definitely feel softer—look!”

You purse your lips into a pout which Naoya doesn’t hesitate to touch with his own lips, pecking them with a gentle kiss—rightfully amused when discovering that you were telling the truth.

“So? What do you think?” you smile, but Naoya doesn’t say anything, opting to give you a kiss instead… and another, and another, as if trying to convince himself he wasn’t making things up.

And you happily obliged initially, taking in all his gestures and returning them too, until you suddenly remembered he was supposed to be on his way to work, unless he wanted to be late!—and all because you wanted to show off your new lip balm, which he also effectively removed by now thanks to his kisses!

“Naoya!” You whine, and your tone was all he needed to understand what you were referring to.

“Just wanted to be sure of the flavor” Naoya smirks. “Didn’t catch it the first time.”

“But you guessed right the first time!!” you cry back, and he gives out a light chuckle before kissing you once more. You pout. “…well, at least one of us is getting their lips hydrated…”

“Don’t be angry, my love, I’ll buy you all the lip balms that you want if that’s the issue.” Naoya promises, pecking your lips one last time before departing off to his next mission.

Even when he had the means to do so (as well as past experiences), you wholeheartedly didn’t expect Naoya to keep his word regarding your lip balms; and you didn’t really care much for it either since you were still trying out this new thing—however, as always, you seemed to have underestimated your husband’s dedication and his fixations, for he quickly became an avid fan of your flavored balms, first seen on the new stick or scrub that would “mysteriously” appear on your vanity just before the other one ended…

Or by the way he’d grab your lips hostage with his, demonstrating both his well-known adoration for you, and newfound curiosity for the new flavor of the moment that lingered on them.

“Na—Naoya…”  you’d whimper, or attempt to through his incessant kissing, lips already numb at that point, as he cages you with his arms, keeping you underneath him and against the futon. “St—Stop…”

“What? I’m just trying to see if your new balm is working…” he murmurs, with eyelids halfway open and undeniably drunk in your scent and taste, desire is the only present feeling in his actions. “What is it… cherry?”

“I… I don’t know…” you blushed—but even when complaining about the breathless, heated situation he was putting you through, your lips still searched for his.

“I think so… but it doesn’t matter, we still have lots of flavors to go through…” he purrs before leaning down and closing the gap between the two with another kiss, tongue pushing past your lips and onto your mouth, diving deeper into the intoxicating combination of your flavor alongside the lip balm of the day, the newest sensation he didn’t know he needed until finally trying it.

“What will my little mochi taste like today?” Naoya teases you from over the futon as you apply lip balm onto your lips, just as you diligently did every morning.

Ever since your lips became softer thanks to your new routine, he proclaims you are now living up to that nickname, being the only one he calls you nowadays.

Not that you minded, it was certainly amongst the sweeter of his selection, nonetheless it still flustered you.

“It’s a secret.” You respond. By now Naoya has gotten you a thousand flavors, ones you weren’t even aware they could be used as balms—but given his craving to try them all out (from you), you determined to put on a different one every day just to keep him on his toes.

“Can I at least have a sneak peek?” he smirks. You giggle, shaking your head.

“Nope! Until I come back maybe.” Naoya scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I won’t be away for long, my love, just gotta pick up some things from the store. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Don’t know why you don’t ask the servants to do it…” he says. “We could be spending the morning in bed instead.”

“Because I like to go out once in a while.” You respond. “Besides, this is one of your days off, I want you to rest.”

“Why? Think I won’t be able to with you around?”

You give him a look that asks him if he’s being serious right now.

“Alright, you have a point there, mochi. Just don’t take long.”

After finishing putting on your lip balm and fixing the last details of your makeup, you begin to make way towards him, intending to bid your farewells by kissing his cheek…

Before he outsmarts you by swiftly grabbing you by the arm, pulling you down to him, careful so as to not hurt you, but sternly enough to hold you against him, wrapping his arms around you as he looks down to you, a smirk on his face.

“Naoya!” you whine, attempting to free himself from his grasp, he chuckles. “I gotta go! My staff is waiting for me!”

“Give me a kiss.” Your husband orders. “Or I won’t let you go.”

Did you really think you’d be able to hold him off from trying today’s flavor?

Luckily for him, you love him so much that you easily indulge him without much insistence, giving him a quick, soft kiss at first… until Naoya’s greediness pushes him a step further, converting your soft gestures into a more heated endeavor, his tongue quickly savoring your mouth and your balm of choice—honey, coincidentally his favorite—by gently sucking and biting on your lips, enjoying the treat his wife willingly prepared for him, until the two eventually become breathless, only pulling away when they physically couldn’t continue together.

“You’re going to ruin my make up…” You’re the first to speak, moving your face to the side in efforts to stop him from ravaging you again—how you hated being the voice of reason.

“Alright, alright…” he breathes, kissing your cheek instead. “I guess I can wait for later tonight.”

“You’re insatiable…” you hypocritically murmur, giving him one last kiss before pushing yourself up from the futon, patting away any creases on your dress, turning around to the door soon after…

Only to sharply tense up when Naoya’s hand harshly lands on your ass, a smack that resonated inside the room, making your cheeks even hotter as you quickly aim to confront him.

“Naoya!”

But he only responds to your scolding with a laugh, ignoring your flustered reaction as he goes back onto the futon, attempting to make the best of his day off by resting, until you come back of course.

Because even if he had other things to tend to, it didn’t mean you were free of his clutches.

Naoya was known to be very diligent when it came to his appearance: well-kept and clean were some of the words most associated with him. And depending on who you asked, unconventional too.

But even then, there was no denying that he looked good, liked looking good, and was not afraid to do what he wanted to continue being perceived like that.

However, even when knowledgeable of this aspect of his… something did not match one day.

It was like he had done something to his appearance, different from the norm, yet no one managed to pinpoint what it was. Eventually spurting rumors about it, whispers, all from people trying to figure out what was odd from Naoya-sama’s face, without having to ask him directly…

Until a member of his personal staff was able to notice it. And when he did, he couldn’t believe it, perhaps didn’t want to, never thinking Naoya would be that kind of person, even with his vanity.

But alas, curiosity took ahold of the poor man, and with all embarrassment and courage in the world, decides to ask him.

“Naoya-sama, pardon my intrusion, but I must know.”

Naoya doesn’t respond, never does, really. He doesn’t like interacting with those below him, after all…

The man takes it as his cue to continue.

“Um… well, I… wished to know if you… put something…. On… Your… lips?” the man squeaks out the last part, anyone else would’ve thought he didn’t say anything eligible.

But for an irritated Naoya, with senses heightened thanks to that same frustration, it was nothing but clear.

“What?” he asks, with a tone that immediately makes his servant tense up.

“No, I mean—They look good!” He rushes to explain, thinking his question had been misinterpreted into something negative. “Hydrated… and all that. They seem healthy!”

“Don’t you have anything better to do than stare at my lips?” Naoya frowns, the room seems to start spinning around the man.

“No! I mean—yes, I do!” He cries, wishing nothing but the earth to open and swallow him whole, alongside his shame, humiliation, and blatant stupidity for having thought bringing up this topic was a smart career move! What was he even thinking? Oh, now he’s going to get fired! “I’m—I’m sorry.”

“Get out of my sight.” Is all that your husband says, not that he needed to do much after that; he didn’t even get a chance to threaten him before the man was already out of the room and far away, freeing Naoya of his senseless idiocies and allowing him to continue enjoying his meal in peace.

Yet, even when the interaction between the two was nothing less than undesirable, Naoya couldn’t stop himself from chuckling, finding his observation to be particularly accurate, hoping that you’d come back soon to continue his “treatment” and wondering where else it could also work…

bigasspervert... lol also I think Naoya might've thought his staff member had the hots for him, omg 😂 I mean what else could he think from that???? hhahahahahah

Anyways, I want to write that lipstick story. Imma do it. :) Hopefully soon, after everything else...

Thank you so much for sending in this ask! It was a joy to write for sure ❤️❤️❤️take care and hope to see you soon. ❤️

[meowthiroth]

been meaning to post these here for AGES now but I keep forgetting to. explodes 💥

but ANYWAYS! i redid the ref art for my Stranger oc from Myst/Riven! and also finally got around to drawing the aged-up version I thought up for him between Myst 3 and 4.

also wrote out a sort of messy bio for him a while ago, which i'll put under the cut since it's kinda long lol

ACE

Basic info

• Born October 7, 1782. He is 24 during the events of Myst & Riven, 33 during Exile and 42 during Revelation.

• He stands about 5’6” (1.6m) and is around 120 lbs. Pretty scrawny and definitely built better for agility than physical power.

• He is transgender and uses he/him pronouns. That caused quite a few problems for him back home, given the social climate at the time. He really doesn’t like to discuss his past or his birth family & will quickly change the subject if asked.

• He's very kind, easygoing and silly, and he loves to help others. But he can also be quite scatterbrained, forgetful, and prone to emotional manipulation.

• While he can be a bit absent-minded at times, he’s actually quite intelligent & quick-thinking, and he excels at problem- and puzzle-solving. He often cracks Atrus’s puzzles within mere minutes, but then can't recall his thought process when asked how he did it.

• Most of his favorite pastimes involve creating and fixing things. For instance, he’s very skilled with a needle & thread, and he makes and mends all of his own clothes. Drawing is another big one for him— his journal contains a lot more doodles in the margins than actual writing.

• He also LOVES animals, especially frogs, reptiles and bugs. He’s good at reading animals' behavioral cues and often has an easier time gaining their trust than most people would.

Early life/childhood

• His birth family were early settlers in the Northwest Territory, moving out west with him in tow when he was just a small child & starting a homestead there. His family consisted of his father, mother, and 3 brothers- 2 older and 1 younger.

• His gender identity caused friction with his family later in his childhood, since they had assumed he was just a tomboyish child and would eventually grow out of it. Obviously, though, he never did.

• His refusal to adhere to his assigned gender eventually escalated to his parents viewing him as hysterical & mentally unwell. Things only continued to get worse as he grew older, which eventually led him to go on the run. He kept a low profile & travelled mostly on his own for years, pressing farther into uncharted territory in an attempt to get as far away from his family as possible, which was how he first stumbled across the Myst linking book.

Life with Atrus & family

• Despite everything Saavedro did at the start of Exile, Ace still finds himself understanding of the man's predicament (perhaps relating the experience to his own upbringing in an abstract sort of way), and he takes it upon himself to help him get home by any means necessary. He often wonders how things worked out for Saavedro after their encounter & genuinely wishes the best for him.

• Slight deviation from canon- After the events of Exile, Ace got so worried about someone else coming after Atrus and his family while he was gone that he insisted on staying with them to help keep an eye on things. He moved in with them in Tomahna and helped out, both with Atrus’s projects and just general home/family things. He sort of took up the role of another older brother figure to Yeesha.

• Over time, he begins to view Atrus & Catherine not just as friends, but sort of as a new, more accepting family. He's definitely slipped up & called them “mom” and “dad” by accident before. SEVERAL times. He was really embarrassed about it at first, although they weren't bothered by it.

• He and Atrus work well together! Although Ace can’t write his own Ages, he often helps test Atrus’s creations and suggests ways he could potentially improve them. His ideas tend to fall somewhere in between Atrus & Catherine in terms of realism- a little wacky but still somewhat grounded in reality. He’s also quick to remind Atrus to take breaks & not get TOO into his work.

• Ace also spends a lot of time back home with Catherine and Yeesha. He does a good job earning his keep by helping around the home, and he and Catherine often like to bounce ideas off of one another. He finds her creativity super impressive, and a favorite pastime of his is to try & draw various creatures and landscapes that she describes.

• Since he lives with the family in between Exile and Revelation, Ace learns about what happened to Atrus’s sons much earlier than in canon, and he often tags along with the family when they visit. Usually he doesn’t go visit the brothers by himself, since he isn’t sure how comfortable Atrus would be with that, but he has offered to deliver things like care packages to them before & he’ll often stop to chat with them for a while.

• Ace has sort of always felt drawn towards Achenar. Despite the older brother's obvious shiftiness, Ace couldn't help but feel bad for him. He'd actually collected every blue page and was going to free him before he was (thankfully) stopped by Atrus. Despite being made aware of the attempted trick, Ace still forgave Achenar pretty quickly after seeing how much he’d changed over the years, and now he's always eager to go visit him with the rest of the family. The two get along surprisingly well & become close friends over time, and Ace will often stay behind to talk to him long after the rest of the family decides to head home from their visits.

• Ace, however, has always gotten bad vibes from Sirrus ever since he first arrived on Myst. He already has a disdain for greedy rich-guy types, and Sirrus always struck Ace as very disingenuous and closed-off, which further limited their ability to connect on an emotional level. Deep down, though, Ace still has a soft spot for Sirrus, and often displays it by teasing him in a playful little-sibling sort of way. While Sirrus generally finds his jokes more annoying than amusing, it clearly isn’t malicious and at least breaks up some of his day-to-day tedium, so he begrudgingly tolerates it.

[simkaswriting]

What if…Eris had danced with y/n instead?

A/N- Hi hi! This is a one shot from a series I'm currently writing for acotar, if you're interested in reading about other beloved characters like Cas, Az, Mor, Rhys and Lucien and their own 'what if' moments, make sure to check back❤️

Dull. That was the only word coming to mind when Y/N surveyed the large, cavernous room. The inner circle was paying their supposed yearly visit to the Court of Nightmares, according to the little information Mor let slip at the dinner table last night. It was not the lack of decorations, or even the monotonous colours throughout the room, but rather it was the fae that were dull. Music echoed around them all, hundreds of males and females clad in varying shades of grey and black talking quietly amongst themselves as if unaware of the festive holiday they were gathered to celebrate, yet only a handful indulged in the compelling music. Y/N stood quietly on the far end of the unintentional line the inner circle formed around the two thrones, right next to quiet Elain, who in turn was leaning lightly against Feyre’s throne. It wasn’t like she tried to blend into the background the way the Azriel’s shadows allowed him to, or that she stood out like a sore thumb the way Elain did with her exuberant energy and bright eyes. Nor did she entice every male the way her eldest sister did with her fierce glare and head held high. No, Y/N was simply just there. Startling in beauty, ferocious in demeanour, and quite frankly a little disappointed at what the Court of Nightmares regarded as a party. Which is perhaps what piqued the red headed Autumn Court male’s attention. Y/N, just standing off to the side yet not seeming lonely, almost as if placing an invisible barrier between herself and the rest of her new family. He wondered why she stood there instead of dancing with some lowly scum like the eldest sister did, hanging off the brute’s arm, though he was almost certain nobody in this room would dare ask her for a dance. If only out of fear of aggravating the High Lord sitting a few feet away.

An hour goes by with minimal conversation between Y/N and Elain, and even then, the words dry out due to her sisters’ fear of drawing attention to themselves. Mouth dry and legs slightly stiff from her unmoving position next to her sisters, Y/N quietly walks over to the large table coated with an array of refreshments, in search of something stronger than water to help the time flow a little faster. Her eyes narrow in on a bottle of red wine, from the Summer Court if the writing is anything to go by. She reaches for the bottle, fully intending to keep it all to herself, when a cedar and cinnamon smell fills her nostrils.

“If I may, I’d suggest this wine, call it a personal favourite and a matter of good taste.” The voice is deep yet oddly soft, so very out of place in this pit of despair surrounding her. It’s as if the tone caresses her.

Stomach in knots, Y/N looks up at the male next to her, and fights back the gasp that surely would have escaped her if she didn’t know better. A tall male clad in hues of green and brown stands next to her, holding a bottle of white wine which looks comically small in his large hand. His height has her almost subconsciously take a step back, looming over her like a bad omen she’s sure he is. His face is sculpted as if by the Mother herself, though she can tell he isn’t just a pretty face to look at by the red scar barely visible under the collar of his shirt. No fae male in the Court of Nightmares on this festive day is just a pretty face. Yet it’s the male’s fiery red hair, bright as if fire itself courses through it, that has Y/N repressing the urge to marvel at it and reach out to run her hand through the fiery locks.

She schools her expression into one of calm indifference instead, perhaps a second too late, and glances at the bottle in the stranger’s hand. Autumn court wine. Her arm falls back to rest at her side, now fully facing the mysterious male, even if it drives her heartbeat crazy and floods her mind with static.

“Good taste would be finding yourself in better company on this joyous night.” She draws out the latter half of her sentence in mockery. Yes, the winter solstice is a time of mirth and expressing appreciation for your loved ones in Velaris, at least from the rare glimpses she’s managed to steal. However, the holiday loses its meaning in the Court of Nightmares. Surely the red head has better options than spending his time in this joyless pit of despondency, attempting to strike up a conversation with the forgotten Archeron sister?

A haughty chuckle comes from him as he sets the wine down on the banquet table and extends his hand, an inkling of a bow following.

“I was hoping you could be that company. May I have this dance?”

She studies his hand, eyes raking over the large surface of his palm and following the veins as they disappear below his tunic, throat growing a little dry. Unsure of why she should say no, especially since she can already feel the tediousness of the next few hours seeping in, Y/N accepts the strangers offer.

Y/N feels eyes burning holes in her, through her, a sour pit churning in her stomach. With a surprisingly gentle touch, the red head draws their bodies together, chest to chest, his hand coming to rest on her lower back, placing himself between her and the inquiring eyes of the inner circle, much to her relief.

Is it such an issue for Y/N to dance with another male? Was she expected to stand by her sisters and the Illyrian males doubling as bodyguards all night, bored to the stars, and counting down the minutes until they could winnow her back to the House of Wind? Nesta and Cassian were enjoying themselves, Feyre and Rhysand were enamoured with each other, and Azriel and Elain were engaged in quiet conversation. So, what is the problem with Y/N enjoying the harmless company of this mysterious, and not to mention breathtakingly beautiful, fae male?

Placing her hand on his shoulder and the other in his hand, large and calloused from centuries of experience she could probably never even begin to comprehend, Y/N looks up at the male.

“How do you find yourself in this cesspool of ingrates on such a beautiful holiday? Surely the Autumn Court would be more…” She pauses, weighing the words on her tongue before letting them slip on a cloud of playfulness to her surprise.

“…favourable.”

Eris guides the two of them in wide circles, knowing he needs not pay attention to the other fae around. Only fools with a death wish would so much as approach the red head and Archeron sister. As his fingers brush across the exposed skin of lower back, the low-cut fabric of her dress revealing enough to please his eyes and send sparks up his fingers at each contact with her, he wonders if her skin is flush to the touch from this nausea-inducing pit or perhaps his proximity.

He hums in approval. Of what exactly, he isn’t sure, coherent thoughts slowly slipping out of his reach.

“You are correct. Though it seems fate would have it that I come here tonight. And what a lovely stroke of luck that I find myself in your company.” He purrs, voice low enough just for her and only her to hear.

He watches heat creep up her exposed neck and settle on the tips of her newly pointed ears with the hint of a smile playing on his lips. And he can’t help but wonder if that truly is the case. If the reason he turned down the invitation to his families own festive ball had something to do with fate, destiny, perhaps the Mother. If the stars intended for the two of them to end up in each other’s paths, each other’s arms.

Voice soft, fighting to keep her eyes on the male’s face despite feeling like the floor may open up and swallow her whole, she asks “May I at least know the name of my dance partner?”

A mischievous, silently knowing smile tugs at the males’ lips as he glances over his dance partners head with ease. Y/N knows who the teasing look was meant for, her High Lord, Feyre’s mate. But as fleeting as the moment is, his bright eyes find themselves looking into hers again.

“Eris. Eris Vanserra, General of the Autumn Court forces. Future High Lord of the Autumn Court. If you’d like the specifics.” His voice flows over her, teasing tone setting in as he finishes his sentence. His eyes are playful, low, and amused, as if he was in on a joke she wasn’t, as if she was some innocent pawn in a game the male who just declared himself the future High Lord of the Autumn Court was engaged in with Rhysand.

She rakes her brain for that missing piece of information, that last piece of the puzzle to really place this male. But instead of finding it within herself, she follows his gaze, fleeting as it was, only to find a tight-lipped Morrigan with eyes set on Y/N, icy and reticent, Azriel’s hand discreetly hovering behind her. To protect or hold her back, she isn’t sure. The cloudy aura around the blonde, usually strikingly orange in its hue, borders on coal as the two of them exchange a knowing look.

And that last puzzle piece clicks. The male whose hands are sending shivers up her spine at their contact with the exposed skin of her back is the same male Morrigan was betrothed to, if Y/N can trust the little information Nesta let slip during one of her drunken tirades, shut down mercilessly by Cassian before she could reveal more. An easy feeling creeps up to (Y/N)’s chest. She didn’t need to know the full story of what occurred between the two fae to arrive at the conclusion that it wasn’t pleasant. And that accepting his invitation to dance with him, with Eris Vanserra, despite initially not being aware of who this male was, may cost her upon the inner circles return to Velaris.

But his gentle hold on her as he leads them around the room with feet skilled beyond her expectations makes her wonder if there was more to him, more to this interaction, than some ulterior motive. More than thrusting a red-hot iron poker at Morrigan’s trauma and showing Rhys and Feyre that their inner circle was not untouchable, unreachable, unbreachable.

As if sensing her growing discomfort, Eris manoeuvres the two of them across the large, cavernous room, past the dancing fae, away from the prying eyes of the inner circle and towards the music. A risky move, they both know, but despite her newfound hesitation, she can’t help but feel thankful. And not just for removing her from yet another unsettling situation she always seems to find herself in with her sisters’ new family. But for reaching out his hand, for grasping her attention, for making her feel seen and alive for the first time since she emerged from the Cauldron desperate for more.

“I don’t know if you’re brave or just plain foolish, Eris Vanserra.” Y/N quips, eyes set on the liquid-like amber ones looking down at her, unmoving, almost challenging.

He wouldn’t be the first or last to try lay claim on the fourth Archeron sister. To try find footing, a doorway into the inner circle. The elusive Night Court. Sometimes Y/N thinks her sisters got it easy. Mated practically right out of the Cauldron, to three brothers no less. They wouldn’t understand the pressure pulling her down each day, the feeling of being a bargaining chip in Rhysand’s pocket, a way to establish or strengthen alliances in the centuries to come. A precious and valued position to fill in all the High Lord’s eyes.

His eyes remain on hers, unflinching, lips slightly curving at the corner at her tone. Eris had heard the rumours. The three sisters of the High Lady of the Night Court, submerged in the elusive depths of the Cauldron, each gifted, each more beautiful than the other. Three sisters on lockdown in the Night Court, two mated. And he would be lying if he denied any ulterior motives, however his existing alliance with Rhysand was questionable but firm, his eventual succession as High Lord all but guaranteed. He had no real need to court the female in his arms. Though, being betrothed to any member of the High Lord and Lady’s family would be a good union for any male, however, betrothal to a mysteriously gifted sister of the first High Lady of Prythian would result in a more powerful union than any other in history. And despite this thought percolating every other thought in his mind, he can’t help but feel like the Mother was trying to play some cruel joke on him. Like she created this woman turned fae just for him, with the way her body feels pressed against his, each movement of her hair sending her scent directly to his nose and nearly buckling his knees. Her smaller hand in his, fingers intertwined with his like their grooves were made just for him. Her bright eyes on his, and he thinks, for the first time in his life, he wouldn’t mind looking into them until time ceased to matter.

“Why not both, dear?” His question is rhetorical in nature, and with heat creeping up her neck she wonders. Could this male truly be evil incarnate if he looked at her like he was ready to worship the ground she walked on?

Hand in his, she blindly follows his lead, never having favoured ballroom dancing the way her eldest sister did. However, she can’t help but find herself drawn to the stranger who has her on her toes. The music carries the two around the room, spinning, floating across the cold emanating from the chiselled stone of the behemoth mountain, eyes never leaving each other. His grip on her body is firm yet gentle, the fire in her very core growing, and she wonders if it has something to do with the male’s heritage or her own gift. The two glide around the large poor excuse for a ballroom with carelessness, lost in a trance, ending up near Rhysand’s and Feyre’s thrones. They can feel eyes on them, burning with questions, accusations, the latter originating from the Truth Speaker herself. But to them, time seems to be still rather than flowing. Their own little undisturbed bubble.

“I can sense it, smell it.” Rhysand whispers into the crook of Feyre’s neck, just below her ear, eyes on his mate’s sister and the heir to the Autumn Court. It was obvious to him, to his brothers and Mor, a sickening sight, one that only seemed to make sense to the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court. Yet he wondered, with the cavern full of monstrous fae, how was the scent so permeating?

Feyre, chest heavy with disappointment but acceptance, nods. She can too. The tether between the two, the bond making itself known. And all she can do is watch as Eris dips her sister low, her hair grazing the ground, and places the ghost of a kiss to her throat.

A shockwave of pleasure washes over Y/N at the gentle pressure of his lips on her neck, the embers in her chest igniting and rising to a flame threatening to consume her whole. A tug in her chest, the fire she thinks, begs her to stay close, pull him back into her embrace and not let go. So, she follows her instinct and draws their bodies back together, closer this time, chests heaving against each other, her lips parted, and his eyes so focused on her he almost misses his own name spoken by Rhysand.

“Composure, Eris, please.” Rhysand purrs, examining his nails as if he hasn’t just witnessed the pairing in front of him all but seal their fate.

(Y/N)’s eyes widen. Not from fear or apprehension at the words of her sister’s mate. But rather from the crushing feeling of need weighing on her chest, need to be closer to this man she didn’t know existed before tonight, need to claw out Azriel’s eyes from the glare he’s throwing Eris, need to shield him with her own body from the threat she knows the inner circle poses.

Feeling the ripple in the air, the unmistakeable tug in his chest despite his unwavering fear of what it spells out for him, Eris gently lets go of her body, instead opting for placing a hand on her lower back, long fingers brushing out soft circles over the fabric of her black backless dress as he walks them the few steps it takes to stop at what he deems is an acceptable, safe, distance from Rhysand.

And before he can consider his words, really take in their weight and implications, they slip past his lips. “What do I need to do for her hand in marriage?”

Of course, Eris suspects the hold Rhysand possesses on all his inner circle members. But judging by the disdain in Y/N’s eyes he observed from the moment they arrived to the moment he approached her, Rhysand wasn’t too interested in this particular Archeron sister. Eris was intelligent, well versed in courtly socialite behaviours. He knew of the hoops he needed to jump through, pleasantries to exchange, even if they did not matter. He only really needed the confirmation from one fae, and it was the one his blood raced for, the fire within him craved.

“The choice is Y/N’s, of course.” Feyre chimes in, sharp eyes focused on her sister as she takes in the scene before her. Y/N’s look bordering on feral, fists clenched at her side, jaw rigid. And in her mind, Rhysand’s chuckle echoes, because she may not yet realise the obvious spark in the air.

The illusion of freedom Rhysand and Feyre paint is laughable, Y/N thinks. She always knew her sister to be cunning, and her mate turning out to be Rhysand was something nobody ever questioned, for all the right reasons. Two peas in a metaphorically corrupt pod. She swallows the hate threatening to spew through her clenched jaw, her heart threatening to break her ribcage if it beat any faster at the words of the male next to her. She knew of the courtly games, had been living their nightmare from the moment the cauldron let her take and take and still gifted her with more, knew his words were really just a necessity. And, with bone chilling horror, realized that the entirety of the Court of Nightmares was gawking at them. But the steady and reassuring hand on her back brings her to reality.

Head held high, knowing if she is to accept Eris’s proposal she will become a significant pawn in Rhysand’s game, she thinks that it would all be worth it if she gets to fall asleep in the arms of the stranger who somehow found the sliver of life left in her and pulled it to the surface. She feels, deep down, that marriage will be just a formality for whatever connection she’s feeling between the two of them. His question isn’t something she has to ponder over.

“Yes.” Her voice echoes around the cavern, loud and clear and heard by all.

She doesn’t miss the slight smirk on Rhysand’s lips, the kind look in Feyre’s eyes, the betrayal laced with defeated understanding on Mor’s face. Y/N knows the fiery haired male is on shaky terms with the inner circle at best, for reasons she hopes to understand, but some innate part of her feels whatever grievances will be aired, she will not be moved from his side.

“Congratulations, lovely Y/N. May this union be blessed by the Mother.” Rhysand hums, voice low, double-edged sword that is his tongue savouring the moment. As his eyes meet the amber of the eldest Vanserra brother, he can’t help but grin, because he knows. Eris knows that that hum in the air is, that fire in his chest. Reigning in his smirk, Rhysand sends a quick prayer to the Mother, thinking that Eris may need it if he is to survive by Y/N’s side.

Y/N lightly bows her head, an inch, just enough to show her gratitude for the sake of the onlookers. And before any other fae has the opportunity to pluck up the courage and approach the newly engaged pair, Eris is already gently leading her to the edge of the grand hall, hand still on her back.

“How would you like to sample some of that Autumn Court wine in your new home, my dear (Y/N)?” Eris purrs, lips brushing against the shell of her ear. And the scent that permeates his nose, one of want and need and anticipation, is the only answer he needs as the shadows grow around the two. As the pair winnows, she thinks that perhaps the festivities will be more joyful next year with Eris by her side.  

[mangogator]

sorry to my myst mutuals who followed me a month or so ago and now only see jsr/brc stuff 🙏 it will happen again but thank u for sticking around

[hyena-shark-rusty]

NPT - Alienkin

With themes of space, planets, and stars!

Names:

Martin

Martian

Alien

Lia

Star

Alastair

Stellar

Mars

Sunny

Jupiter

Pluto

Saturn

Venus

Blue

Orion

Constellation

Julian

Julia

Ariel

Jamie

Alice

Pronouns:

star/stars/starself

space/spaces/spaceself

warp/warps/warpself

ze/zers/zemself

xe/xers/xemself

venus/venuss/venusself

mars/marss/marsself

nep/neptunes/neptuneself

glorp/glorps/glorpself

alien/aliens/alienself

ufo/ufos/ufoself

unknow/unknowns/unknownself

planet/planets/planetself

out/outers/outerself

myst/mysts/mystself

gem/gems/gemself

extra/extraterrests/extraterrestself

myst/mysterys/mysteryself

strange/stranges/strangself

stranger/strangers/strangerself

sci/scis/sciself

Titles:

The Wonder of Science

The Unidentified (Descriptor (boy, girl, alien, etc))

(Prn) From Outer Space

(Prn) Who Flies The UFO

The Unidentified (Prn)

(Prn) From the Stars

(Prn) Who Mystifies

The One in The Stars

The One from The Stars

The Extraterrestrial (Name)

Requested by anon!!

[mouwrites]

Heyyy ich loveee your Wirtin sm and i would love to See a Kai x Reader story so like they are sitting on a house or something and they both don’t know who they are like u don’t know that the red ninja is Kai uk?

Anyways so Kai is telling about the girl in school he has a crush on and that would be y/n but he doesn’t know that he is telling her and in School they are like enemies so y/n would never ever think that it would be Kai telleing her . And like they often meet as Nina’s but don’t know their idenetie so they kept going to see eacht other and they got reallyyy close and y/n got even close with the other ninjas and they know Kai likes her at then at some mission y/n got hurt and Kai is saving her and then he like know who she is idk if it makes sense but after that like at the next day or something then they meet at the spot they always met and he tells her who he is and then they like fall in love 😻

I would love that 😍😍

Ooh yess!! This gave me miraculous ladybug vibes! :D

Word count: 1.6k

Ninjago - Falling for the Mysterious Red Ninja

You were on the rooftop with the red ninja. That’s all you knew him by; you didn’t know his name, nor did you know what he looked like under his mask. And he knew no more about you; beyond your f/c mask, you were a stranger.

Despite this, you got along pretty well. Fighting crime together is apparently a pretty good bonding activity. The long periods of peace between crimes permitted you to speak with each other; get to know each other, joke around, whatever you fancied in the moment.

Tonight, you somehow got on the topic of love.

“There’s this girl at my school,” the red ninja was telling you, “who I’ve got a huge crush on.” You could see the tops of his cheeks through the mask, and they turned pink as he spoke.

“She’s really cool. Spunky. We like to argue.”

“Like to argue?” You giggled.

“Well, I like it. I like seeing her get all passionate. Man, you should hear her insults—they’d make an old woman faint!”

“She sounds like a riot.”

“Oh, she is. She’s pretty, too… h/c hair, e/c eyes…”

He was interrupted by the blaring noise of an alarm down the street. Springing to your feet, you abandoned the conversation and rushed into action.

You didn’t get to continue your discussion. As soon as the cops came to collect the crooks, the red ninja saluted you and sprung away into the darkness, and you went home.

Pulling off your mask, you stared at yourself in the mirror. H/c hair, e/c eyes…

“Wait a second…” You leaned in, pursing your lips. “But he couldn’t have been talking about me. He doesn’t know what color my hair is.”

Still, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was you that he was talking about. The mere thought made your heart flutter. Though you hesitated to admit it, you had developed a little crush on the red-masked hero. His charming personality was just enough to win you over, but your genuine conversations made him beyond alluring to you. And perhaps that air of mystery about him was another quality that attracted you.

You could’ve spent the whole night mooning over the thought of him liking you back, but you had school in the morning, so you forced yourself to catch a few hours of sleep.

The next day, your face twisted in disgust when you boarded the bus to find all the seats but one filled. The single empty seat was right next to Kai, the boy you hated more than anything in the world.

“Starting the day off on the wrong foot, I suppose,” Kai grumbled as you plopped down next to him.

“Shut up before I cram your pencils where pencils are not meant to go.”

“Yikes! Not even 9 AM and she’s already plotting to kill me!”

You gave him a harsh elbow to the side, which finally shut him up. Finally, you had the quiet you needed to think about last night.

Those reddish brown eyes gazing at the moon, the stars reflecting in them like freckles of light, the breeze carrying the scent of fast food joints from the street up to the rooftops… the way his smooth voice talked, enchanted, about this mystery girl… This mystery girl that you hoped, prayed, was you.

Lost in your daydreams, you didn’t notice the pair of reddish brown eyes next to you, quietly admiring your thoughtful expression.

Nighttime couldn’t come quick enough. You waited on the rooftop where you always met the red ninja, but he was certainly taking his time. You tapped the tips of your feet together impatiently.

“F/c!” A familiar voice—not the one you were waiting for—came from behind you.

You whirled around, smiling under your mask. “Zappy!”

“The others are taking care of a gang fight a couple blocks over. Wanna patrol with me while they finish up?”

“You know I do.”

The blue ninja was another close friend of yours. Not quite as close as the red ninja, but you’d still call him a good friend. It was strange, the way you befriended these masked heroes without knowing a single thing about the people under those brightly colored masks.

It would be several more nights before you’d see the red ninja again. Though you appreciated your time with the other ninjas, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t anxious to see him again. Somehow he always managed to be off on a different mission, leaving you with another colored ninja for the night.

Your dissatisfaction was exacerbated by a certain pig at school. Seeing Kai every day was like a punishment; as if being deprived from your red-clad crush wasn’t enough. Your luck really seemed to turn for the worse when you were assigned to work together on a group project.

“Just let me do my part, and I’ll leave you to do yours.”

“Can’t you do my part, too?”

“What, are you gonna be too busy desperately flirting with every female you can find?”

“I’ll have you know that I am not desperate. There’s only one girl I’ve got my eye on.”

“Eugh, spare me the details. I pray for her, whoever she is. Poor girl.”

“And I pray for whoever you have a crush on, if there’s anyone so unlucky in this world.”

Your cheeks reddened a little as the image of the red ninja flashed in your mind.

“Wait, do you actually have a crush on someone?”

“No! Shut up!”

You buried your nose in your textbook, trying to hide your darkening face. Through the pages you couldn’t see the crestfallen expression of your partner.

So you really liked someone… He should’ve seen it coming. You were a stunner; you could get anyone you wanted. Of course you’d set your eyes on someone. You probably had full intentions of asking them out, too. Kai sighed, following your lead and burying his nose in his textbook. The words were like abstract symbols to him; he was falling too deep into despair to comprehend them.

He was grateful to be back out on the streets, taking his frustrations out on hooligans who deserved it. His anger fuelled him; he ran faster, jumped higher, punched harder, all in an effort to drain the rage of knowing his love had eyes for another.

He barely noticed you joining him. You had noticed him fighting a gang in an alleyway, and, perceiving that he was far outnumbered, decided to jump in. I’m like his knight in shining armor, you thought with a smirk. The smile diminished as you realized that he wasn’t even paying attention to you.

This upset you a little. Weeks of not seeing you, and this is how he acts?

You were distracted. The man you were fighting pulled a knife out and slashed at your face. You dodged, but not quick enough to completely avoid the attack. You let out an anguished yelp. Luckily it wasn’t enough to knock you over; you bounced back and downed the assailant in a single blow to the head.

You were bleeding. You could feel the fabric of your mask growing wet and sticking to your face. You touched your cheek, wincing as your fingers brushed over the cut.

“Woah, that looks bad.”

“So now you notice me,” you chuckled, turning to face the red ninja.

“Sorry, I was… preoccupied. Here, sit down. I have some gauze in my first-aid pouch.”

You resisted, but the thought of having his hands gently touch your face was irresistible. You slumped down against the wall of the alleyway. He crouched down before you, examining the wound with those brown eyes you adored so much.

He moved his hands towards your face, but hesitated. “I… I’ll need to take off your mask.”

Your heart pounded. Was it time? Was now the moment you’d reveal your identity to him? As the questions swirled in your head, your hands seemed to move on their own. You pulled off your mask.

His eyes went wide. He was frozen there, crouched before you, hands halfway between you both, for a solid few seconds. Then, you heard him whisper, barely audible through his mask: “Y/n?”

You could feel the enchanted look in your eyes extinguish. Did he know you? Did you know him?

Before you could voice your questions, he ripped off his own mask.

“Kai?!”

“I’m… actually really glad you’re the f/c ninja. I don’t think our connection at school is exactly romantic.” Seeing your baffled expression, he elaborated rather bashfully. “Uh, you know that girl I was telling you about a while ago? That girl is Y/n. You.”

You chewed your lip. “You know how I kind of implied that I had a crush? Well, that crush is the red ninja.”

“Me,” Kai breathed, a smile spreading on his lips.

You always hated that smile, but this time there was something different about it. You cocked your head, bringing a hand up to hold his cheek. There was a certain quality to his face, a face you spent years of your academic life hating, that now seemed irresistible. You moved your hand to the back of his neck and pulled him in.

The kiss was tender and gentle, but short. Kai pulled away first. You were about to ask what happened when you noticed the splotch of blood on his cheek.

You laughed, wiping the blood off with your thumb. Kai placed his hand atop yours, kissing your knuckles before returning your hand to your side.

“Now let me patch you up, my flower.”

Thank you for this fun request, anon! And thank you for reading! <33

(divider by saradika)

[haunted-xander]

There was no one who did not know about the Killing School Life; a killing game orchestrated by Junko Enoshima to make the former 78th class of Hope's Peak Academy kill each other. It's purpose was to broadcast the horrible murders to the world at large to further fill the people's hearts with despair. But now, the game was finally over. Thanks to the resiliance and hope shining from one Makoto Naegi, Junko had fallen by the rules of her own creation. Her execution marked the beginning of the end for this despair-infected world. Finally, hope could begin to grow inside the people's hearts, now that the one responsible for this tragedy is gone.

The six survivors of the killing school life have finally managed to open the door leading to the outside world. Now, the Future Foundation await them on the other side, ready to accept them into their ranks with open arms. The doors opened, and there they stood. Their faces all quickly shifted to surprised, clearly not expecting to have people waiting for them. Kyosuke was the first to approach the shocked 'students'.

"Greetings, survivors of the killing game. My name is Kyosuke Munakata, former Ultimate Student Council President, and currently the vice-leader of an organisation called the Future Foundation. We are here to assist you in recovering your lost memories and re-adjusting to the outside world. You have my sincerest apologies for being unable to save you from the hands of Junko Enoshima. Rest assured that we will do anything in our power to make up for our short-comings." He finished with a deep bow.

"The Future Foundation, is it? I question your competency if you couldn't even open a measly little door. And why, may I ask, is the vice-leader greeting us instead of the actual leader? Are they too ashamed to meet us personally?" The young man didn't mince his words, his displeasure at the organisation clear. "Togami-kun, that's a bit mean... They came all this way to help us, you could be a LITTLE more grateful."

"M-m-master is right! Y-you guys totally suck! C-c-couldn't you have done s-something at least!? God, t-talk about useless!" A dissheveled young woman yelled out, pointing her finger at Kyosuke accusingly. "Calm down, both of you. You can voice your displeasures all you want later. For now, let's go along with these 'Future Foundation' guys. It's in our best interest to make as many allies as possible right now." Her voice was steady. She was clearly used to dealing with these people. "I agree with Kyoko-chan! You all need calm down! They're here to help us, so don't be so rude!"

"Uuuh, but how can we be sure we can trust these guys? I mean, they just happen to be outside waiting for us? There's no way I'll trust that! How would they ever know we were about to leave?!" A much older looking man burst out, looking agitated and apprehensive at the prospect of complying with these strangers. "...Um, Hagakure-kun? You do remember that the killing game was broadcasted, right? They probably watched the broadcast and saw that we were heading out..."

"...Oh, right. I completely forgot about that."

"How in the world could you forget that...? YOU were the one to discover that fact to begin with!" They started to bicker between themselves and seemed to have forgotten all about the people around them. Chiaki decided to remind them. "...Hey hey, I'm happy to see you get along and all, but we should probably get going. There's no reason for us to just stand here all day, right? So, let's head back to base so you guys can all get some well-deserved rest... I think."

"Oh! Right, thank you. Sorry, looks like we've gotten into the habit of arguing amongst ourselves haha..." The soft-looking boy -Chiaki guessed this must be Makoto- looked sheepish at having gotten distracted. "All right, let's head off then! Honestly, I'm looking forward to seeing places that isn't the same old school all the time."

"I, personally, am looking forward to having our memories recovered. There are still mysteries regarding the situation that I am unable to solve. I'm hoping that regaining our lost memories will provide me with some more clues." The woman went to stand besides Makoto as she looked straight at Kyosuke. "Kyosuke Munakata, was it? You probably know this already, but I am Kyoko Kirigiri, the... I suppose it would be 'former' Ultimate Detective at his point. I am looking forward to working alongside you. And everyone else, of course." She crossed her arms and gave an acknowledging nod to the people.

"...Ah, and I'm Makoto Naegi! The, um, 'former' Ultimate Lucky Student. I hope we can get along, Munakata-kun!" Makoto gave an awkward salute and introduced himself. "My name is Aoi Asahina! I'm the, uh... 'former'? Ultimate Swimming pro!"

"Do I even need to introduce myself? You already know who I am, don't you?"

"Can't you just do it, Togami-kun?"

"...Fine. My name is Byakuya Togami. The 'former' Ultimate Affluent Progeny. There, happy now?"

"Yes, very!"

"I-I'm Toko Fukawa, the former Ultimate Writing Prodigy... N-not that YOU care..."

"And uh, I'm Yasuhiro Hagakure! The Ultimate Clairvoyant."

"It's 'former' Ultimate, Hagakure-kun..."

"What's the difference?"

I'm glad... They seem to be doing well. Chiaki smiled at their antics.

[saint-vagrant]

Oh I forgot to ask a question!

😂

Ok, here it is: Who’s your inspirations for your artistry?

Big question, I know.

^__^

hmmmm you're right, that is a big question! since you asked "who" i'm going to assume you mean other artists?

for painting i'm particularly inspired by Anthony Cudahy, Alex Beck, Sterling Hundley, Ashley Wood (all contemporary,) Euan Uglow, Joaquin Sorolla, Sargent, Arkady Plastov, Ivan Shishkin, Konstantin Yuon, Ferenc Pinter, and a number of names in the Brandywine school like Mead Schaeffer and NC Wyeth.

i reformatted my brain a little in 2021 by reading Fujimoto's Chainsaw Man. Other mangaka are Hirohiko Araki, Kosuke Fujishima, Otomo, Inoue, Urasawa, Miura. the 2S artist Brandon Hoax is a HUGE inspiration to me. same for Chase Conley, Peter Chung, Freddy Carrasco, Xia Gordon, Ron Wimberly, Chris Kindred, Mel Tow, Hiro Isono, mozame_mo, Yoshitake Yamane, @maxbanshees @potogawaryuiki @coshkunz @cparrisartand @fourcorneredgod @newjackcole @choodraws @doctop @hirosemaryhello @nocturnalwalkr @fanficciera @oak-n @purenonsens @juangeedraws @plaest2k @blackblobyellowcone @turndecassette2 many more friends and strangers whose work i'm delighted to spend time traveling thru (and whose names i'll add in once i publish this enormous reply lol. rn i'm afraid of tumblr eating it!!)

most importantly, my partner Anka @kingfisher-cove charmed and captivated me from day one. the personality and dynamism of their work, specificity of place, time, body, personal effects, there's always been so much life in their art. i have little to no interest in stories/characters without limits, where mobility is never a concern, especially featuring the wealthy. stories where people don't sweat or pee or have "bad" teeth or talk too loud. Anka's always portrayed peeling paint and rusted metal as a fact of life. you get a sense of dimension/volume in their art— the way material hangs off a body, and that body's form, how gravity and weight conform feet to the ground— and the same goes for the personalities and ideas populating it. the viewer too has a home here beyond "representation." it's not just window-dressing, nor ponderous hyperrealism. there's cartoon whimsy and cartoon stakes. i wish i could describe the extent it's meaningful to me. i feel lucky to see it! plus i really making them yell and art is a good way of accomplishing it.

so because this is veering into WHAT inspires me...

other than like, transness and communism and everything that entails, i'm inspired heavily by pornography and leather culture, and (mostly vintage) magazines like Honcho and Juggs, 70s italian erotica/nunsploitation. relatedly, the lush scenes of Pierre et Gilles and Tarsem and Christian Riese Lassen. i'm also deeply inspired by hyperlink/multimedia art, such as that by Olia Lialina of @oneterabyteofkilobyteage or projects like Ted's Cave. places and delights of my childhood like Myst/Riven, Fin Fin, rural river water, rocky beaches, soft glowing glades, sharks in coral outcrops. autonomy and dissociation, too.

with a lot of the artists i mentioned, there is a handiness, a presence in their work, a dedication to indulgence and/or experimentation, in subject, setting, medium, whatever. an interest not feigned. i also love maximalist colour and texture... in drawings, in textiles, anything! worldwide and through history. i'm inspired by golden age illustration and Iranian turquoise and carpets. miniatures. iconography. lotuses. magnolia.

you can fake sincerity of course. when it comes to making art that seems like a waste of precious effort. when i get a sense that the artist really loves People beyond serving up a telephone game of vibe-mood-aesthetic... that is cool to me. if the art isn't well-lived, then it's well-cared for. a lot of the nostalgia fodder is based on a memory of a memory that was sold for mass market consumers, so i'm a bit distrusting of it. which isn't to say that i don't love a tone poem (i do-- Legend is one of my favourite films) nor that it requires "realism" to accomplish either. i love being sold on the ridiculous. i respond well to like, an artist (in whatever respect) showing me something absurd with 100% unbridled earnestness and fearlessness about being silly. my top 3 favourite series are JoJo's Bizarre Adventure, Metal Gear Solid, and Ace Attorney. these are objectively as exaggerated in their drama as they are serious about their intent, and populated by straight freaks. one of my favourite directors is Michael Mann (Miami Vice, Manhunter, Heat, Thief, Collateral) who is known for his obsessive, even illustrative details but also, Audioslave plays during an emotional night drive. they don't let Audioslave play during an emotional night drive anymore. all these things are related lmao. let me go on a further tangent

there's an internal logic, right? and when it's flipped? that's the best. i don't mean a "twist," either. it's something else-- the author/artist revealing that, emotionally, things were always more complex than you were lead to believe, and it recontextualises the entire piece. if surprise is the best part of comedy then i think the same goes for melancholy. i love when the rug is pulled out from under me through something as simple as the reimagined N'doul episodes of the JJBA OVA. (YES! YES! I'LL TALK ABOUT IT FOREVER! I'M CRAZY! BUT I'M RIGHT!) is it a twist? nothing's actually changed about where the story is headed. you know where it's headed. but the meaning of that story has-- by creating an emotional trapdoor like that, it establishes a particular sense of suspense.

i'm mentioning these because i rewatched them recently-- films like Solaris and Sunshine and... you know what? Terminator are bigger to me than their subject matter because the emotional space they create is unnerving, where hope is fragile if it's present at all. something hard to accomplish... the bittersweet potency of ironic regret.

i'll keep adding to this. i could go on and on lol