#the scene is so breathtakingly beautiful

[spiteful-crow]

𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐮𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞.

[empty-dream]

Fate/Grand Order Memorial Movie 2023: Beyond the Tale

[anotherfanaccount]

Dev Saran was way too hot to be always so grumpy about being a loser. But maybe that's why he was a grumpy loser. God knew he would be way too powerful if he won in life. He was humbled to keep his globe sized ego at check.

Maya was his match just because she saw him at his worst and said I can fix him.

Kjo been writing the wattapad trope love stories since forever. With great music and beautiful locations and pretty adorable wardrobes.

[heyimkana]

SO- uh kingdom and empires type of thing- Sacrificial bride reader with emperor jin-woo. To stop the wrath of the emperor on the small kingdom, the king gives his daughter (reader) to emperor as a sacrifice.

everyone things jin-woo is a cruel emperor and many rumors are going all around the world of his cruelty, so reader is sacred to the bone when she is before jin-woo. (He's just antisocial so he doesn't want to correct the rumors just like how rumors of him spread after jeju raid)

Jin-woo being SUCH A SWEETHEART and giving reader time and space even after their wedding. (He fell for reader) So whenever reader tries to get close or do any action to make their relationship more comfortable, jin-woo internally goes over the moon. (He's smithen for reader and I'm all for it)

OMGOMGOMG EMPEROR!JINWOO 😩 okay so I know you want to see some cute fluffy lovey-dovey scene and we'll get there trust me, but hear me out okay what if it started out like this:

WC: 1.1 K | Warnings: Murder, slight gore

With his long, silky smooth raven hair cascading past his shoulders, and his fringe falling over his eyes like a curtain, Emperor Sung Jinwoo is a sight to behold. His features are sharp and breathtakingly handsome, his body, sculpted by the Gods, swathed by black robe from shoulders to toe. He towers above others with his intimidating height, his gleaming purple eyes bestowing fear upon those who dare to stare back into them.

The emperor carries a dangerous air around him wherever he goes, his hair often tied in a high ponytail with two sheathed daggers resting on each side of his hip. He charges first during battles, despite being the most vital piece in the kingdom. Fearless and undefeated, his name echoes throughout the realms. Every victory he's brought home was all because of his strength. Every peace he'd attained was all because of the blood he'd shed. Death follows everywhere he walks, the soil drenched crimson beneath his feet.

Cold and distant, the young lord is very efficient with his words, which often leads to people misjudging his character. Some people perceive him as arrogant. Most people see him as cruel and merciless with the way he treats his prisoners, but no one knows that behind the gates of his palace, he's a gentleman who holds his family dearly, who seeks blood only to create a world where his young sister could walk freely without men leering at her from the shadows. He takes care of his dying mother so earnestly with the tenderness that rivaled her own, his touch so delicate as he washes her hair every morning, despite having his hands constantly soaked in his enemies' blood.

Jinwoo defeats and conquers other kingdoms, killing their leaders in cold blood in front of everyone to see. They don't know that behind the scenes, their king and his subordinates are nothing but a bunch of corrupted men who took advantage of their own people. They thought the emperor brought chaos to their land, but his knights knew the truth. It was justice.

Emperor Jinwoo doesn't do forgiveness. If there's a man who murders or steals on his watch, then they'll be executed on the spot. No trial, no second chances, nothing. He holds honesty, virtue, and loyalty above everything else. And tonight, in this small kingdom he steps inside, he finds none, and so, the old town is littered with corpses of those who dared to dishonor a lady or betrayed their own kin.

The King of this kingdom, who offers his daughter for Jinwoo to take in exchange for sparing his own life, makes his blood boil the most. How could a father, whose duty was to protect his family, be so willing to give up on his only child, just to live for another day?

"I'll take your daughter," Jinwoo says in response, his gaze falling on the maiden's face. She's gorgeous, the most beautiful woman he's ever seen, but that's just it. She can offer him nothing but her beauty and a woman's charm would never be enough to reignite the fire within him, to restore the piece of humanity that has grown thinner and thinner with every throat he slit with his dagger.

The maiden, of course, shows repulsed hatred toward him. For all she knows, Jinwoo is an invader, barging into her land one night and slaughtering every warrior in sight. But as a princess, she has a role to fulfill and one of those is to bring peace to her kingdom no matter what the cost. And if her purity and her womanhood could win the heart of the new dictator to bestow mercy upon them, then so be it.

She walks forward and stands before the young emperor who brazenly sits on her father's throne with his dark robe smeared with her knights' blood. Some of the scarlet has stained his fair cheek, but even then, he still appears divine in some ways. The princess takes a moment to stare Jinwoo right in the eyes, unfazed by his overwhelming aura. She makes sure he understands that despite being nothing but a gift for his hand to seize, she deserves every ounce of respect he could show her.

Jinwoo arches his brow at the challenge but then he finds himself smiling. He rises to his feet, practicing his courtesy. "Forgive me, Princess," he greets with a bow of his head, his voice rumbling low and deep as he introduces his name. It brings shivers down her spine in all the most exciting ways though she'd rather be beheaded than admit it aloud.

Only then does she perform her bow. Blazing fire resides in her eyes still, a sign that she won't be so easy to tame, but for the first time in his life, Jinwoo feels... thrilled. Because of what, he's not sure yet. But he figures he'll find out soon enough.

He asks for her name and she gives it to him through gritted teeth.

"Do you love your father, Princess?"

She's taken aback by the question. Out of all the things he could've asked her... "Yes, my lord," she answers, a second too late than she's supposed to.

Jinwoo's eyes linger on the faint bruise blooming on her skin. It circles her neck like a pair of hands crushing her windpipes. His eyes glow as his voice turns a pitch lower. "Even after what he's done to you?"

She swallows. She's steeled herself for this, but the terror coming solely from his gaze still creeps into her skin. "Yes."

His lips curve up again at her answer, and she ponders, how could a demon like him, smile so angelically?

Jinwoo then leans in close, his lips a breath away from her ear. "I hope you're a better fighter than you are a liar," he whispers.

There's a mix of confusion in her glare, but the emperor no longer pays attention to her. "Close your eyes, Princess," is the last thing he speaks before he addresses her father, who stands nervously before the audience. She does as she's told as it is her duty now to do whatever he commands her to do.

Seeing the emperor accepting his gift, a wicked, victorious grin emerges on the King's lips but that's the only thing he manages to do before his head rolls to the ground. Startled gasps and horrified shrieks ring throughout the hall but before the princess can open her eyes to witness the headless corpse falling to the ground, Jinwoo embraces her from behind. His fingers gently cover her eyes, letting her stay in the darkness, hoping it will comfort her the way it always comforts him.

"You're with me now, Princess," he murmurs in her ear, and it rattles her bones. "I'll take care of you."

It's a promise and a blessing, but for a woman who has lost all her kingdom, her dignity, and her entire family in one night, it feels like a curse.

"What are you going to do to me?" she asks with a shuddering breath, to which he says—

[ye4gerz]

one more time — lee haechan

‧˚⭒ pairing: lee donghyuck x f!reader! 18+ MDNI ‧˚⭒ genre: angst! sexual themes. ‧˚⭒ word count: 2.5k ‧˚⭒ cw: friends with benefits, mentions of smoking weed, sexual references. ‧˚⭒ summary: you share a bond with donghyuck that blurs the line between friendship and something more, but while your heart aches with unspoken love, he seems to brush off your shared moments as part of your unique connection. will you finally have to let go of the love you’ve been holding onto for so long?

Your eyes are drawn to the lava lamp across the room, resting on its side table. Its soft glow mixes with the dimly lit fluorescent lights scattered throughout the space, while the city lights and the flickering of distant buildings reflect faintly in the glass. The combination creates a scene so breathtakingly serene, it feels like stepping into a dream.

Half-dressed and leaning against the headboard, you glance down at your thighs. They’re marked with small bruises, faint and tender, remnants of love. The hem of the oversized dress shirt clings lazily to your frame, its edges barely brushing over the evidence of the night.

Your hair sways gently as you shift, bringing your knees closer to your chest and resting your head atop them. Your gaze remains fixed on the glow of the city outside, its beauty distracting you from everything else in the room—everything right in front of you.

Then, from the bathroom door just ahead, a different kind of light spills out. A soft glow filters through the small crevices, steam escaping lazily into the air, curling and dissipating as if carrying whispers from the heat within.

Your eyes shift to the figure stepping out from the bathroom as the door opens. The light behind him is too strong at first, but it quickly fades, leaving only the soft glow of the room and the city outside.

A towel wraps low around his waist, clinging to his hips, while a smaller towel rests in his hands, which he uses to dry his hair. His head tilts to the side, his gaze drifting to the window, admiring the same city-scape you had been fixated on moments before.

Your gaze trails down his body, warmth blooming in your chest as a blissful smile spreads across your face. He catches you staring, but it doesn’t faze him. A soft smirk tugs at his lips, his eyes meeting yours with an amused glint.

He approaches you, leaning over to press a gentle kiss to your cheek. “How are you feeling?” he asks, his voice low and warm.

You tilt your head toward him, your smile soft and genuine. “Really good,” you reply, your voice just above a whisper.

He nods, satisfied with your answer, before turning toward the desk across the room, where his duffel bag lays. As he changes into comfortable clothes, your eyes follow his every movement, as if the rest of the world has fallen away. Time feels suspended, each action of his deliberate and mesmerizing.

Once dressed, he picks up a freshly rolled blunt from the desk and walks back to you, a lighter in hand. He ignites it with practiced ease, taking a quick inhale before offering it to you.

“Here,” he murmurs, holding it steady for you as you take it between your fingers. You inhale deeply, the smoke filling your chest and spreading warmth throughout your body. He watches you with a fond smile, his hand still hovering near yours as if ready to guide you should you need it.

The moment feels impossibly calm, as though the night has cocooned the two of you in its glow, leaving only the quiet intimacy of shared space and quiet understanding.

His eyes stayed fixed on you, barely glancing at the blunt in his hand. He suppressed a groan as he watched your lips press against it for your pull. The way the soft glow of the room caught on your features left him breathless. He couldn’t believe how beautiful you were, how undeniably real you were.

How can someone this perfect exist in the same world as me? he thought, overwhelmed.

He pushed his feelings down, swallowing hard as he cleared his throat and settled beside you on the bed. If only you could hear the chaotic storm of his thoughts, thoughts he refused to let escape.

Do you kiss him? Do you tell him? The questions swirled in your mind, making your chest tighten. You were only supposed to be friends. He still thinks you’re just friends, doesn’t he? you wondered, forcing yourself to meet his gaze for a split second before looking away. A connection this deep could only mean just friends… you told yourself, though the ache in your chest screamed otherwise.

This shared secret between you two started the moment you first met. The attraction had been instant, electric— but feelings? Those had taken their time to grow. It wasn’t until your fifth night in his old dorm, tangled in his sheets and listening to his quiet breaths as he slept, that you realized the truth—you loved your best friend.

Donghyuck… he never took things seriously. You had never seen him commit to anything or anyone, not in a way that lasted. He was unpredictable, his next moves impossible to anticipate, even for you. What was the point in confessing? You told yourself he would never take you seriously. So, you settled, convincing yourself that being best friends with benefits was enough.

None of your mutual friends had a clue. To them, the two of you were just part of a big, chaotic family. For a while, you’d been content to leave it that way, but now? Sitting here in the quiet glow of the room, his proximity making your heart race, contentment felt like a distant memory.

The secret late nights in hotel rooms had only started recently. They were a far cry from the cramped intimacy of his dorm room, yet they carried an undeniable weight. Nights like tonight felt like slipping into a different reality, one where the lines between friends and something more blurred beyond recognition.

You stole a glance at him as he sat close, his profile soft in the low light. He wasn’t looking at the blunt in his hand; he wasn’t looking at the window or the city lights. He was looking at you. Always, it seemed, you. And despite the walls you’d built to protect yourself, a dangerous thought crept into your mind.

Maybe he feels it too.

Just as quickly, you pushed it away. After all, Donghyuck wasn’t someone who stayed. You didn’t know if you could survive the heartbreak if he left.

Meanwhile, he tucks a strand of your freshly dried hair behind your ear. His eyes linger on your face, full of admiration he doesn’t even realize is romantic. Donghyuck convinces himself that this is just how your friendship naturally is—effortless, intimate, and deeply connected. To him, this closeness is simply a testament to your bond, nothing more.

Now you’re starting to believe otherwise. You catch fleeting moments that make you wonder if he feels the same—his lingering touches, the way his gaze softens when it lands on you. Yet, you’re all too aware of the consequences of indulging in that idea, of letting hope root itself in your chest.

You feel like a liar. Like a fraud when you run your fingers through his hair, looking deeply into his eyes with an admiration that goes beyond the friendship you so casually reaffirmed yesterday morning. The words “we’re great friends” feel like a betrayal now, hanging in the air between you like an unspoken confession.

The clock reads 2:00 a.m., and the blunt is nothing more than a spent bud. The air feels heavy, your mind fuzzy from the haze of smoke and proximity to him. You can tell Donghyuck’s head is in the same dazed state, his movements slightly slower, his voice softer than usual.

You’re the only person he doesn’t like calling him Haechan. Though everyone else uses that name, there’s something about hearing his full name leave your lips that sets him apart. He doesn’t understand why, but it makes him feel like more than just the persona he’s known for—more real, more seen.

He disposes of the last bit of the blunt and sinks back beside you. Your heartbeat quickens as you watch him settle, tugging you closer without hesitation. You let him do this, let him fall into these moments with you, knowing this is how he escapes from the real world. His eyes lock onto yours, and you’re frozen under their intensity. Slowly, you lift yourself up, leaning in until your breaths mirror each other’s, warm and steady.

Donghyuck’s eyes widen slightly, caught off guard by your movement. Your lips hover just a breath away from his, almost grazing. For a fleeting second, it feels like everything is about to change.

But then, he pulls back, sighing softly.

And just like that, the weight in your chest collapses, sinking into a hollow ache. You feel the air shift, the unspoken tension unraveling into a silence so loud it’s deafening.

“We can’t…” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.

The words slice through you, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him, the sting of rejection setting in. After what feels like an eternity of silence, you finally find your voice. “And why not?” you ask, the words trembling as they leave your lips. “We just did something way beyond just kissing.”

His jaw tightens as he repositions himself, sitting up straighter and avoiding your gaze. His eyes drift to the door, wanting a way to escape this conversation. “We’re just best friends, Y/N. You know this already,” he says, his tone steadier than you expect. “We help each other out and keep it from our friends. That’s… that’s the best way we can do this. Until we find partners of our own.”

You hear the hesitation in his voice, the faint crack of uncertainty beneath the surface. Yet, his words feel final, sharp and unyielding. He hates himself for saying it, for pushing you away when all he wants is to pull you closer.

Donghyuck doesn’t know why this moment feels so different. It’s been years of this routine—a delicate balance of unspoken feelings and blurred lines. But tonight, as he sees the hurt flicker across your face, he feels the shift in his own chest. He’s confused, lost in the tangle of emotions he’s never allowed himself to fully confront.

Why does it feel like everything has changed? Why does it feel like he’s just made the biggest mistake of his life?

“If that’s the case, then why do you keep seeing me?” you ask, your voice trembling with emotion. “Why do you sneak glances and touches when we’re in public, knowing we could get caught? Why do you call me in the middle of the day just to say you miss my voice? Why do you look at me with those eyes, only to tell me something else?” Your voice cracks as you plead for an answer, one you’re almost certain won’t come.

He gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing visibly, but he doesn’t respond. His gaze shifts to the door, then to the floor, as if the answers he needs are hidden somewhere beneath his feet.

“If you want to leave, then go already,” you spit out, your anger barely masking the hurt. The haze of your high evaporates, leaving only a raw ache in its place.

“Let me explain, Y/N,” he protests, his voice desperate.

“You know what? I’ll do you one better,” you snap, grabbing your shorts and pulling them on with shaky hands. You reach for your bag, ready to leave.

He reacts immediately, rushing to you and grabbing your wrist. “Please don’t… that’s not what I meant. Let’s talk,” he begs, his voice softer now, almost breaking.

You stop, meeting his eyes, and you see the sincerity there—the same sincerity that’s broken you time and time again. With a heavy sigh, you give in, though your heart still aches. You allow yourself to be led back, though the tension in the room feels like it could swallow you whole. You blame the weed, telling yourself it’s the only reason why you’re backing down.

The city lights seem dimmer now, the room darker than you remember. The silence no longer fills the space; instead, it’s the unbearable weight of the tension between you that lingers.

“We can’t keep doing this, Donghyuck,” you whisper, your head hanging low as tears threaten to spill. Your voice is quiet, but your words cut through the air like glass.

“I know. I’m sorry…” he begins, but his words soon blur into a muffled hum. You’ve heard this speech before, and you already know how it ends.

It’s the same thing he always says. The same tells about how important you are to him, how much your friendship means. He doesn’t know how to get through life without you by his side. You almost laugh at the bitter irony of it all—his words sound more like a love confession than a friendship plea, yet he’s still blind to the truth.

You swallow hard, trying to push down the lump in your throat. You’ve heard this before, and yet you always let yourself believe it could mean something different. That maybe this time, he might finally realize that all your emotions, all your pain, stems from love. As his words wash over you again, you realize you’re a fool for ever thinking he’d see it.

“Donghyuck…” you start, but the words catch in your throat. Your chest feels heavy, weighed down by the burden of loving someone who can’t seem to love you back the same way. You close your eyes, willing the tears not to fall, and prepare yourself for the only thing you can do now—let go.

You sit beside him on the bed, your head still hanging low as your eyes drift to the bruises on your thighs. Once, you had been proud of them—marks of something passionate, something shared. Now, they only fill you with sadness, a reminder of the emotional tug-of-war you can’t seem to escape.

You tell yourself it’s time to let him go, to make this the last night he accidentally toys with your emotions, knowingly or not. The resolve feels strong for a fleeting moment, but then you think about the way the night unfolded—the shared laughter, the shared touches, the warmth you felt.

The night was so perfect, you think. Why ruin it now?

And that’s the thought that breaks your resolve. That’s the thought that convinces you to stay.

“I understand,” you finally say, forcing the words out even though they taste bitter on your tongue. “Let’s just go back to how it was before, okay? I’m getting pretty tired anyway.”

He looks at you with a genuine smile, one so sincere it makes your chest tighten. He pulls you into a warm hug, his arms wrapping around you like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Thank you, Y/N,” he whispers, his voice full of relief.

You don’t respond. Instead, you let yourself be held, feeling both comforted and broken at the same time.

Eventually, you both lie down, backs turned to each other as the lamps are switched off. The room plunges into darkness, but it does nothing to quiet the storm raging in your mind. You know the routine: he’ll leave first, slipping out the door with a quiet goodbye. You’ll stay behind, staring at the ceiling before finally making your way home.

Tonight will be no different. You’ll let your tears slide silently onto the pillow, knowing you’ve forgiven him one more time; even though it hurts, you’ll tell yourself it’s worth it—just for the chance to have him close, even if it’s not the way you wish it could be.

[luvchaew]

behind the scenes ⚘ be (im)patient

the not-so-average daily life of heeseung and the 5th member of aespa if they dated publicly and were horrible at hiding the relationship act two ⨾ where a heated hook-up session right before MAMA performances leads to some obvious evidences

“loving isn't a sin, is it?” idol!heeseung x 5thmemberofaespa!reader wc𓈒 456 — not proofread! ✴ cursing, fluff, unprotected sex (don't!), p in v, public sex (kinda), messy makeup, clothes and hair, pet names (angel, baby, hee), mdi!

𝑚. 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍

fucking at the backstage of MAMA — needless to say, the most important k-pop awards ceremony —, just minutes before it started, seemed something way out of what you would do. usually.

but, right now? everything that mattered was heeseung's hands firmly holding your waist to keep you steady against the sink and his cock sliding in and out of you in a brutal, rough pace as he took you from behind.

“you don't want them finding us here, right, angel?,” heeseung accentuated his words with thrusts, his hips find yours while you made eye contact with him through the mirror, watching everything fall apart: your makeup, hair, clothes, and of course, sanity. “or do you want them hearing just how good i make you feel?,”

your only reaction was clenching around him, your bottom lip already starting to look swollen from how much you were biting it to avoid making any sounds. “hee— fuck,”

he was relentless, chasing your release as fast as possible, and when you announced you were coming with a simple “shit— ‘m so close,”, the signs of his own high approaching became noticeable, because with heeseung, he would never say it, but you could count on small gestures — the way his eyebrows furrowed, how his grip would tighten, the bites on your shoulder that becaming increasingly harder and the small groans he would let out, all that while looking breathtakingly beautiful

you came first, both of you sweaty, your half-clothed bodies moved senselessly while he drove you through your high. heeseung buried himself deep, holding your waist now with both hands as he spilled his hot cum inside your oversensitive cunt. his climax filled you up to the brim, and despite the position, you managed to take the majority of it in, your pussy swallowing it as if it'd been hungry.

“you look so beautiful like that, baby. you should keep your makeup like this,”, he teased playfully, resting his chin on your shoulder for a minute before pulling out. he helped you getting dressed up again, the black sleeveless top you were using slighty kneaded, your bangs messy and the back of your hair sticking to your neck. both of you tried to shake it off, hoping that your fans, for once, wouldn't be so smart to catch up on that.

when you finally made your arrival at the stage, your groups taking the designated seats, it was undeniable that maybe not only fans, but everyone around — even idols — noticed your swollen lips, your messy clothes, and, mainly, the fainted bite mark at your left shoulder.

well, despite having both of your names everywhere on korean forums and social media for weeks, you couldn't deny that it was worth it.

[elryuse]

Caught In The Act

Vivi X Male Reader

Tags : Childhood Friend Vivi, Caught Masturbating, Kissing, Handjob, Romance, A Bit Of Comedy, And Lots of Sex, Creampies

Words : 3,375 words

This is a Commission Work for My Friend @starconstruction Hoped you Like it Bruv.

The sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting lazy stripes across Y/n’s bedroom. His heart raced, not from the heat of the day but from the thoughts that had consumed him for hours—thoughts of her. Vivi. The girl who had been his best friend since they were kids, the one who always knew how to make him laugh, the one who had grown into a woman so breathtakingly beautiful it hurt to look at her sometimes.

Her smile, her laugh, the way her curves seemed to defy gravity… God, she was all he could think about lately. And today, alone in his room, that thinking had taken a very specific turn.

Y/n lay on his bed, hand moving rhythmically under the covers. His breath hitched as he imagined Vivi standing there, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, lips parted just enough to make his pulse spike. He thought about her hands, soft and delicate, trailing down his chest, reaching lower… fuck. He bit his lip, stifling a moan as his grip tightened. He was close, so close, and the fantasy was vivid—Vivi leaning in, her breath warm against his ear as she whispered his name—

“Y/n? Are you home?”

His eyes snapped open, his hand freezing mid-stroke. No. No no no. That voice. It wasn’t in his head. It was real. Panic surged through him as his door creaked open, revealing the very person he had been fantasizing about.

Vivi stood in the doorway, her wide eyes taking in the scene before her. Y/n scrambled to cover himself with the blanket, but it was too late. She had seen everything—the guilty flush on his face, the desperate attempt to hide his arousal, the unmistakable bulge beneath the sheets.

For a moment, neither of them moved. The silence stretched, thick and heavy, until Vivi broke it with a surprised laugh. “Well… this is… unexpected.”

Y/n groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean—I thought I was alone—”

She raised an eyebrow, stepping fully into the room and closing the door behind her. Her expression was unreadable, but there was something in her gaze—something curious, almost teasing. “You know, most people lock their doors when they’re… busy.”

“I—” He couldn’t even form a coherent sentence. His mind was racing, his body still thrumming with the tension he hadn’t released. “Vivi, I swear, this isn’t—”

She held up a hand, cutting him off. Her lips curved into a small, knowing smile. “Relax, Y/n. I’m not mad.” She took a step closer, then another, until she was standing right beside his bed. Her eyes flicked downward, to where the blanket barely concealed his erection.

Y/n’s breath caught. “Vivi, what are you—”

Before he could finish, she reached out, her fingers brushing against the edge of the blanket. Slowly, deliberately, she lifted it away, exposing him completely. His face burned, but he couldn’t look away from her. Her expression was intent, focused, as if she were studying him.

“You’ve been thinking about me, haven’t you?” she asked softly, her voice low and sultry in a way he had never heard before.

He swallowed hard, his throat dry. “Vivi, I—”

She knelt on the bed, her movements graceful and unhurried. Her hand settled on his thigh, sending a jolt of electricity through him. “It’s okay,” she murmured, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his skin. “I don’t mind.”

His heart pounded in his chest. This couldn’t be real. It had to be some twisted extension of his fantasy. But the warmth of her touch, the scent of her perfume—it was all too vivid to be anything but real.

“Vivi,” he choked out, his voice trembling. “What are you doing?”

She met his gaze, her eyes dark with an emotion he couldn’t quite place. “Something I’ve wanted to do for a long time,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. Then, without warning, her hand closed around him, firm and sure.

A strangled gasp escaped his lips as pleasure shot through him. Her touch was electric, igniting every nerve in his body. He reached for her wrist, half-heartedly trying to stop her, but she swatted his hand away.

“Don’t,” she said firmly, her grip tightening ever so slightly. “Let me take care of you.”

Her words sent a shiver down his spine. He tried to protest, to tell her this was wrong, but the sensation of her hand moving up and down his length stole the breath from his lungs. His hips bucked involuntarily, driving himself deeper into her grasp.

“That’s it,” she purred, leaning closer. Her breath tickled his ear as she whispered, “Just let go, Y/n. You don’t have to hold back anymore.”

Her pace quickened, her strokes becoming more deliberate. He could feel the pressure building, coiling tight in his core. His fingers dug into the sheets, his entire body tensing as he fought to keep control.

But it was useless. Every touch, every movement, pushed him closer to the edge. He opened his mouth to warn her, but all that came out was a broken moan. His release hit him like a tidal wave, overwhelming and all-consuming.

Vivi didn’t flinch as he came, her hand working him through it until he was spent and trembling. When he finally collapsed back onto the bed, his chest heaving, she leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear.

“See?” she teased, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Y/n stared at her, his mind reeling. This was Vivi—his best friend, the girl he had known his whole life. And yet, in this moment, she felt like a stranger. A beautiful, dangerous stranger who had just turned his world upside down.

She climbed off the bed, wiping her hand on the hem of her shirt. Her smirk was positively wicked. “You know,” she said casually, as if they were discussing the weather, “this doesn’t have to be a one-time thing.”

His eyes widened. “Vivi, what are you saying?”

She shrugged, heading for the door. But before she left, she glanced back over her shoulder, her grin making his stomach flip. “Think about it, Y/n. I’ll be waiting.”

And with that, she was gone, leaving him lying there, dazed and utterly speechless. The sound of the door clicking shut echoed in his ears, a stark reminder of what had just happened—and the promise of what might come next.

The days that followed were a blur for Y/n. Every time he closed his eyes, he could feel Vivi’s hand on him, her touch burning into his memory like a brand. Her words lingered in his mind, echoing over and over: “This doesn’t have to be a one-time thing.” He wasn’t sure if she was serious or just teasing him—he couldn’t tell with her anymore. But the thought of it consumed him, leaving him restless and unable to focus on anything else.

Then came the knock on his door.

It was late, the house quiet except for the faint hum of the refrigerator downstairs. Y/n froze, his heart pounding as he stared at the door. Was it her? Had she really come back? Before he could decide what to do, the door creaked open, and there she was.

Vivi stood in the doorway, wearing a loose tank top that clung to her curves in all the right places and a pair of shorts so short they barely covered her thighs. Her hair was down, cascading over her shoulders like silk, and her lips curved into that same devilish smirk he’d come to associate with trouble.

“Hey,” she said softly, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “Did you miss me?”

Y/n swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. “Uh… yeah. I mean, no. I mean—” He stopped himself, realizing how ridiculous he sounded. “What are you doing here, Vivi?”

She tilted her head, her smirk widening. “I told you I’d be waiting. And now I’m here.” She took a step closer, her hips swaying slightly as she moved. “Unless… you don’t want me here?”

His breath hitched. Of course he wanted her there. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life. But his brain was screaming at him to think, to consider the consequences, to remember that this was Vivi, his best friend since childhood. The girl who had always been there for him, who knew him better than anyone else.

But then she was standing in front of him, close enough that he could smell her perfume—something sweet and floral that made his head spin. Her eyes locked onto his, dark and full of promise.

“Do you trust me?” she whispered, her voice low and husky.

He nodded before he could stop himself. “Always.”

Her smile softened, just for a moment, before she reached up and placed her hands on his chest. His heart raced beneath her touch, and he felt himself growing hard already, the reaction instantaneous.

Without another word, she began to unbutton his shirt, her fingers deft and deliberate. Each brush of her skin against his sent a shiver through him, the anticipation building with every passing second. When the last button came undone, she pushed the fabric off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.

“You’re nervous,” she observed, her voice teasing but gentle. “Don’t be. This is me, Y/n. It’s still just me.”

He swallowed again, his hands trembling at his sides. “I know. It’s just… this is…”

“Different?” she finished for him, her lips curving into that familiar smirk. “Good different, though. Right?”

He couldn’t help but nod. Good different didn’t even begin to cover it.

Her hands slid down his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles, and he sucked in a sharp breath. When her fingers reached the waistband of his jeans, she paused, looking up at him through her lashes.

“Can I?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

All he could do was nod again, his mind going blank as she undid his belt and zipper with agonizing slowness. When she finally tugged his jeans down, letting them pool around his ankles, he felt exposed, vulnerable in a way he never had before.

But then she knelt before him, and all thoughts of vulnerability vanished.

Her hands slid up his thighs, sending sparks of electricity through his body, and when she wrapped her fingers around him, he groaned, the sound escaping before he could stop it. She smiled up at him, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

“Still think about me?” she teased, her thumb brushing over the tip of him.

“All the time,” he admitted, his voice shaking.

“Good.” Her grip tightened, and she began to stroke him slowly, each movement deliberate and calculated. He clenched his fists at his sides, trying to hold himself together, but it was impossible. The sensations were too much, too intense.

When she leaned forward and took him into her mouth, he nearly lost it.

Her lips were warm and soft, her tongue swirling around him in ways that made his knees buckle. He gasped, his hips jerking involuntarily, but she kept him steady, her hands gripping his thighs as she worked her magic.

“Vivi…” he moaned, his voice thick with desire. “You’re… you’re gonna kill me.”

She pulled back just long enough to smirk up at him. “Not yet,” she murmured before diving back in, her movements becoming faster, more urgent.

His breathing grew ragged, his body tensing as he fought to hold on, but it was no use. With a strangled cry, he came, his release crashing over him like a tidal wave. Vivi stayed with him, swallowing every drop until he was completely spent.

When she finally released him, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. “That was just the beginning,” she said, standing up and pulling her tank top over her head in one fluid motion.

Y/n’s eyes widened as her breasts spilled free, perfect and perky and everything he’d ever dreamed of. She reached behind her back, unfastening her bra and letting it fall to the floor, leaving her completely bare from the waist up.

“Your turn,” she whispered, stepping closer and pressing herself against him.

His hands trembled as they settled on her hips, his thumbs brushing against the soft skin just above her waistband. She sighed, her head falling back as he leaned down to kiss her neck, his lips trailing along the delicate curve.

“Are you sure?” he asked between kisses, his voice rough with need.

She nodded, her hands tangling in his hair. “More than sure.”

With that, she pushed him back onto the bed, climbing on top of him and straddling his hips. Her shorts came next, discarded carelessly onto the floor, and then she was naked, her body glowing in the dim light of the room.

Y/n’s breath caught as he looked at her, taking in every inch of her perfect form. She was breathtaking, more beautiful than he’d ever imagined, and she was his—at least for tonight.

“I’ve waited so long for this,” she whispered, reaching down to guide him inside her.

The moment he entered her, their shared gasp filled the room, a symphony of pleasure and relief. Her walls clenched around him, hot and tight, and he groaned, his hands gripping her hips as she began to move.

Her pace was slow at first, deliberate, giving him time to adjust, but soon she picked up speed, her body rocking against his with increasing urgency. Her nails dug into his chest, her breaths coming in short, shallow gasps as she rode him.

“Look at me,” she demanded, her voice shaky but firm.

He obeyed, his eyes meeting hers, and in that moment, everything else faded away. There was no past, no future, only this—the two of them, tangled together in a way that felt both new and familiar.

Her movements grew more erratic, her moans louder, until finally, with a cry of his name, she came, her body shuddering as waves of pleasure washed over her. He followed moments later, his own release crashing over him as he buried himself deep inside her.

For a long moment, they stayed like that, panting and trembling, their bodies still connected. Then, with a sigh, she collapsed onto his chest, her ear pressed against his racing heart.

“I meant what I said,” she murmured, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his skin. “This doesn’t have to be a one-time thing.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything, she kissed him, her lips silencing his doubts and fears. And in that moment, he knew—he was completely, utterly hers.

Vivi’s lips lingered on his, the kiss deepening with an urgency that made Y/n’s head spin. Her hands slid down his chest, nails lightly scratching his skin as they moved lower, teasing him in a way that sent shivers through his body. His breath hitched, and he felt her smirk against his mouth before she pulled away just enough to whisper, “You’re so easy to read, Y/n. I can see how much you want me.”

His face flushed, but there was no denying it. Every inch of him screamed for her, the memory of their previous encounter still fresh in his mind. He reached out, tangling his fingers in her dark hair, pulling her back into another searing kiss. This time, he took control, nipping at her bottom lip until she gasped, her hands gripping his shoulders tightly.

“You’re mine,” she whispered between kisses, her voice low and possessive. The words sent a thrill through him, igniting something primal deep within. He didn’t argue—couldn’t argue. Not when she was looking at him like that, her eyes dark with desire and something else he couldn’t quite place.

Her hands slipped under the hem of his shirt, pushing it up and over his head before tossing it aside. She trailed her fingers down his chest, tracing the outline of his muscles before stopping just above the waistband of his boxers. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” she murmured, her voice barely audible. “How many nights I’ve thought about you… touched myself thinking about you?”

The admission made his heart race, his cock twitching in response. Before he could process her words, she was stripping off her own clothes, revealing the curves he’d fantasized about for years. Her breasts spilled free from her bra, and he couldn’t help but groan at the sight, his hands trembling as he reached out to touch her.

She arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips as his thumbs brushed over her peaked nipples. “Y/n…” she breathed, her hands sliding down to grip his wrists, guiding them lower. “Touch me everywhere.”

He obeyed without hesitation, exploring every inch of her that he’d only ever dreamed of. Her skin was impossibly soft, warm beneath his palms as he cupped her breasts, massaging them gently before moving lower. His fingers traced the curve of her hips, dipping into the sensitive dip of her waist, and finally settling between her thighs.

She let out a shaky breath when his fingers found her already slick folds, her hips bucking slightly as he began to stroke her. “Fuck…” she whimpered, her head falling back as pleasure coursed through her. “You have no idea how good that feels.”

But he did. Or at least, he thought he did. The way she trembled under his touch, the way her breath came in short, erratic gasps—it was intoxicating. And yet, it wasn’t enough. Not for either of them.

Without warning, she pushed him back onto the bed, straddling his hips with a predatory grin. “My turn,” she purred, her hands trailing down his chest until they reached his still-hard cock. She wrapped her fingers around him, stroking him slowly at first, then faster, more urgently. He groaned, his hips lifting off the bed as he thrust into her hand, desperate for more.

But she had other plans. Leaning down, she captured his lips in another fierce kiss, her tongue tangling with his as she positioned herself above him. “I want you inside me,” she whispered against his mouth, her voice trembling with need. “All of you.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Gripping her hips, he guided her down onto him, both of them letting out muffled cries as he slid into her wet heat. She rocked against him, her movements slow and deliberate, drawing out every sensation until he thought he might combust.

“God, Vivi…” he choked out, his hands tightening on her hips as she began to move faster. Her inner walls clenched around him, milking him with every thrust, and he could feel himself losing control. But he held on, determined to make this last, to savor every second of being connected to her like this.

She leaned forward, bracing her hands on his chest as she rode him harder, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. “You feel so good,” she moaned, her nails digging into his skin. “So fucking good…”

Her words spurred him on, and he gripped her hips tighter, thrusting up into her with increasing force. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with their frantic moans and the creak of the bedsprings. It was raw, unbridled passion, the kind that left no room for thought or restraint.

When she came, it was with a cry of his name, her body shuddering as pleasure ripped through her. He followed moments later, his release crashing over him as he buried himself deep inside her, filling her completely.

For a long moment, they stayed like that, panting and trembling, their bodies still connected. Then, with a sigh, she collapsed onto his chest, her ear pressed against his racing heart.

“I love you,” he blurted out, the words slipping past his lips before he could stop them. For a moment, he panicked, fearing he’d ruined everything. But then she looked up at him, a soft smile playing on her lips.

“About time,” she teased, brushing a strand of hair from his face before leaning in to kiss him. It was gentle, tender, and full of promise.

[jaxieus]

Eating Icecream by yourself handsome?

*sigh... get a job

This was mainly more practice with After Effects! And animating in CSP fir the first time in like 5 years! I like how it turned out especially the background.

i think i was able to integrate peri into the scene pretty well though! way better than my first two tries

It was inspired by the Don Bluth backgrounds. They're so breathtakingly beautiful and i wanted to try and capture that nostalgic feeling i get when looking at them

Erm timelapses/Process vids under the cut!

[yeonmuse]

𓍯 — Girl Of My Dreams 𖡎

ᥫ᭡ f!reader x sim jaeyun ── 𝒢enre. angst. fluff, non idol enha. ᭙ᥴ 5.4k Not proofread [reqs are open] ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓁ibrary

authors 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈 so recently I watched this film called dr birds advice for sad poets and I fell in love with it, the somber romance and dependency of one person to another to keep them mentally stable just stuck with me. Though this isn’t as somber to the movie the limerent romance is similar.

IN WHICH Jake finds himself deeply in love with a girl that has a somber heart but a love for poetry. She uses words to mask the pain that hides behind her angelic smile, and the closer the two get the more dependent she becomes on him.

🏷️ : @jwonistic @squiishymeow @river-demon-slayer @sol3chu @butterflywonz

In all honesty Jake knew absolutely nothing about poetry, he had never even found himself interested in a single poem until he had laid eyes on her. Though he was a man of books and literature, never in his life had he picked up a book of poetry. Even so he found himself attending every meeting of the dead poets society, all out of hopes that he could finally get closer to her.

Despite his friend group Jake had always been a socially awkward person, being around others that weren’t his childhood friends made him absolutely anxious. When he became overwhelmed it was like Bees swarming a comb of honey, his thoughts sent into an immediate frenzy. To outsiders because he was quiet and just had always remained in the books it made him weird. He hated the unwanted attention that surrounded him, the negative and positive attention that seemed to surround him like a heavy fog, there was only person's attention he truly wanted and didn’t mind having and that was hers. Everything about her was vibrant and the complete personification of what sunlight was to be in human form. First time their eyes met he felt he had experienced what it was like to come face to face with the stars, to stare into the heart of space itself. She summoned an endless swarm of butterflies in the pit of his stomach every time the two crossed paths. So imagine his feelings when she approached him and his friends during their study session; a study session during which only two of them seemed to be studying.

Jake had been so entirely invested in his book that he hadn’t even realized she approached their table. It wasn’t until his nose had sensed the sweet smell of her perfume that he realized she had been nearby. Sunghoon slaps at Heeseungs shoulder as if to bring his attention to the scene before them. All of his friends were well aware of the massive crush they’re friend had on her.

“Jake?” His heart had begun to beat so fast that he felt he was experiencing heart palpitations, as he heard his name spill from her plump lips, a sound that was absolutely angelic falling upon his ears. The way his name melted off her tongue sending his burning stomach into a frenzied state.

“You’re Jake right?” As he finally tore his gaze away from his book and forced them to focus on her face, he froze up on the spot.

“You are so breathtakingly beautiful.” The words spilled from his lips before he himself could even grasp the fact that they had.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“..Okay, anywho..Jake.” She says it again, the butterflies in his stomach rampage upon her calling his name again. He'd have sworn he had honey dripping from his ears by now, having heard his name from her once again.

“You work in the bookstore downtown right?”

“Right, yeah every week.”

“Perfect, um so the poetry club has been looking for a new place to meet after hours since the campus library is usually closed, and since I’ve seen you around there I was wondering, do you think we could use the bookstore?” Her every word has slipped through one ear and out the other, all he could do was stare into her doe eyes and wonder what thoughts were running through the forest in her head.

“Uh y-yeah I guess I could ask the owner?”

“Yes, yes yes! Thank you.” With the smile that spread across her face she was like the true embodiment of an angel. Before he had any sort of time to react she had kissed his cheek and ran off.

In that moment he had experienced over a thousand flames igniting within him, his heart entirely set ablaze.

The next morning he sat in class contemplating the ways he could ‘accidentally’ run into her outside of her classroom once her lecture had been over. He stood pacing the floor, his thoughts nearly swallowing him whole like a sea of irregular waves. He did that often when it came to her, constantly overthinking, always questioning whether or not she’d ever truly be interested in him. If he would ever actually man up and tell her he had adorned her for quite some time.

“Jake?” Her voice instantly pulled him from his head, forcing him to focus on something other than his thoughts of her and remain in the present. As his eyes fell upon her she dismissed her friends and made her way over to him.

“Hey, I was looking for you this morning, usually you’re in the courtyard with your friends but you weren’t there this morning.” She noticed that? She noticed him enough to realize that he wasn’t in his usual place.

“Ah right I got here a little late, my shift last night ran kinda late. I did get the okay to have you guys use the store though, as long as everyone is out by 12 the place is all yours.”

“Oh my god! You’re literally the best!” Jake found himself lost in her smile, lost in her dimples as she cheerfully pulled a note from her bag.

“This is the poetry club's schedule. I made this extra one so that you would be aware of the days we’ll be attending, since you’ll already be there. Maybe you should listen to it every now and then?” She hands over the invitation with a smile, his gaze remained glued to her as she brushed the loose strands of hair away from her face.

“Ah yeah, Maybe I should. I've been wanting to get into poetry lately.” A blatant lie, he had never ever thought to get into it.

“Oh? Then tonight will be perfect for you. We're discovering the works of Edgar Allen, starting off with simple works since we’ve gotten new members.” The only time he had ever picked up any work by the former writer he had been in middle school, it was the only time he had ever read poetry in his life and it had been forced upon him.

“Save a book for me then yeah?”

“I’ll get there early tonight, maybe you can help me set up before everyone gets there?” He couldn’t possibly deny her request, with the way her beautiful eyes gazed at him expectantly, he was forced to crumble under pressure.

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” Of course he’d be there he had to fucking work. He swore when it came to her all his logic was immediately thrown out the window.

When Jake had finally arrived to work his thoughts were rampant once more, with no way to silence them. He was nervous to say the least, he had never experienced love, nor had he ever experienced what it was like to love someone this much, let alone someone like her. She was like a rare flower that only bloomed upon the night of a full moon. Her energy was always infectious to anyone that had crossed paths with her. She had a way of making even the saddest of man smile.

The ding of the front bell drew Jake out of his ongoing thoughts, and as she walked wearing her white button up and black skirt, a red sweater adorned around her waist. His eyes drink her in, as if snapping a picture with his pupils and engraving the sight within his mind for eternity. Everything about her was sweet, her plump lips, the dimples that poked out when she smiled, the freckles that adorned her face, and don’t even get him started with her laugh or her voice, that melted off her tongue like sweet honeysuckle.

“Hi Jake.”

“Hey, you actually really did come earlier than expected.”

“I’m a girl of my word.” She responds with a smile as she sits down on a box of books on the only empty table in the store.

“So there's a room in the back, where we keep the old books, but there’s enough space for all of you to gather there, and it's somewhat secluded if you all don’t want to be bothered.”

“Thank you I honestly owe you one, I really do appreciate us letting you use the place.” She responds with a smile, taking the sweater from around her neck and placing it on the table.

“I’ll take these back there for you, feel free to look around.” He lifts the box with ease, not seeming to realize the way she observes him curiously. She had always seen him around campus, or in their shared lectures, his head always buried in a book when he wasn’t studying or hanging around his friends. She always thought him to be cute, though she wasn’t the type to simply crush on someone all because they were cute, she liked to take the deeper dives. To fall for anyone she needed to fall deep into the abyssal vortex of their minds.

She trails him, strolling through the aisles, eyes scanning through the ongoing shelves of books, her fingers dusting over each outdated and upgraded cover, or spine.

“Do you like it here? I mean you must love books a lot to work here of all the options in town.”

“Yeah it’s not bad, I mean the pay could be better but I’d rather be surrounded by something I love than getting higher pay for a shitty job that leaves me miserable.” He responds by taking one of the books into his hands as he sits down the box full of them. He had seen poe's work countless of times, his poetry above all being one of the recent purchases from the store, though he himself had never been intrigued enough to even spare it a glance until now.

“Do you have a favorite work?”

“Favorite work?”

“A favorite piece of his? Poe? Or any poet for that matter if you prefer others.”

“Ah, I’ve actually never even bothered to pick up any poetry, don’t think I’ve read any since I was in middle school.”

“Seriously?”

“I guess I just never got the point, to me they were always just mindless words put together on a page.”

“Then that means you just haven’t written the right works.” She disappears from sight leaving Jake confused as he hears rustling down one of the aisles until she returns with a book.

“This one is one of my favorites.” She steps at his side pulling the book open to one of the first pages inside.

“She walks in beauty, Lord Byron.” As she began to read he found himself captivated, near hypnotised by the sound of her voice. Partially distracted how close the two of them now were, close enough for him to detect the aroma of her perfume almost immediately. As her arm brushed against his own it sent shivers up his back.

“She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that’s best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes;

Thus mellowed to that tender light

Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,

Had half impaired the nameless grace

Which waves in every raven tress,

Or softly lightens o’er her face;

Where thoughts serenely sweet express,

How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,

So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,

The smiles that win, the tints that glow,

But tell of days in goodness spent,

A mind at peace with all below,

A heart whose love is innocent”

Once she finished reading her gaze shifted from the book in hand, over to him who had already been looking at her.

“Beautiful.” He wasn’t talking about the poem, he meant how captivating she could look standing there. How angelic her voice had sounded as she read through the lines of the page. Of course the poem itself was beautiful, it resembled the exact way he thought of her, but having her standing here she looked all the more beautiful.

“It may sound beautiful, yes, but the words where you hear them, what do you think? What did they mean to you?”

“Sounds to me like he’s praising a woman for her beauty, the unfathomable realization that one could be so beautiful, that they could look so sweet and angelic, she must be praised for her visuals and attributes among all.”

He responds, tearing his gaze away from her and looking at the book, part of that had been solely his thoughts towards her.

“Well, the piece is meant to praise the inner and outer attributes of a woman, to admire her beauty, innocence and purity. The admiration of a woman and all that she may be, adorning her inner and outer beauty.”

“It’s beautiful.” He responds looking back at her, her eyes had nearly met him until the bell at the front door rung and slowly but surely members of the club began to trickle in.

Though work pulled him away from the ongoing meeting it didn’t stop him from stopping in every now and then nor did it stop his ears from listening in. He never thought he’d ever find himself interested in poetry but the way she talked about it, how passionate she got when it came to each poem, it drew him in.

By the end of the night when everyone had left and the meeting had come to an end, she was the last to stay behind.

“So what did you think?” She sauntered over to the checkout counter, resting her elbows on top and her head in her palms.

“I guess it’s not as boring as I thought.” He responds, trying to act cool at which she only laughs at his attempt at being nonchalant.

“There's no meeting tomorrow, but do you work?”

“I open tomorrow, yes, though Someone else will be closing.”

“Perfect, I’ll swing by and pick you up after your shift, I’ll make sure that by the end of this week you’ll absolutely love it by the end of this week.”

“Yeah? If you can get me to like it, I'll take you and the whole club out for ice cream, my treat.”

“I hope your wallet is ready by the end of the week then.” She grabs her things, throwing her sweater over her shoulder before making her way to the door.

“See you tomorrow.”

“You promised her what??” Heeseung and Sunghoon were sent into a fit of laughter as Jake went over the events of tonight.

“Oh you’re so whipped it's insane.”

“Im pretty sure I’m fucked, even if I don’t like anything she shows me tomorrow I know I’ll just give in and tell her I like it anyways.”

“How many people are in this club anyways?”

“Including her, twenty.”

“So basically he’ll be buying two hundred dollars worth of ice cream.”

“Isn’t that like your whole paycheck? You only make 350 a week.”

“Well at least he’s finally got a date with the girl of his dreams.”

The next morning Jake found himself watching the clock, waiting for the time to trickle down, his eyes often shifting to the door as if he had been waiting for her to walk right through it. Eventually he forced himself to keep himself busy, dusting shelves and rearranging books out of hopes that it would make the time go by faster, though it just continued to go agonizingly slow. As the front bell dinged he quickly rushed to the front, his heart nearly falling from his chest as she entered. With her green topped button up and brown skirt, this was the first time he hadn’t seen her in some sort of formal attire, honestly it was the first time he had ever been seeing her outside of a scholastic setting. She looked beautiful as always, but something about the revelation of skin made goosebumps adorn his skin.

“Hi Jake.” She approaches him with a bright smile, that same bright smile that made his heart beat every time he laid eyes upon it.

“You look, you look beautiful.” He spoke absentmindedly, earning a smile from her.

“Not that you don’t look beautiful all the time- just today you..today I actually. You know what I think they need help over there I’ll be right back.” Jake silently curses himself as he slips from behind the counter and escapes the aisle to help an elderly couple that had just entered the store.

Meanwhile she sauntered down the aisle, her eyes trailing the shelves until landed upon something that was worthy of a read in her eyes.

“Stealing beauty.” A book she herself had read time and time again simply to feel something, a reminder to her that love existed, that even the most foreign loves could be real.

“Have you read it?” Jake asks, stepping behind her he takes one of the five copies of the book into his hand.

“Mm I have, more times than i’d like to admit.”

“There's something about italian romance that is above all other types, summer italy. Maybe it’s the fact that Italy itself is more beautiful that makes the romance so breathtaking.” He continues on as he puts the book back in his place, this was the first time that she was getting a good look at him now that they had been this close. As he spoke she found his words tugging at her heartstrings, she was getting a glimpse into his own mind.

“Do you like them? Romance books?”

“I’ve read them since I was younger, I’ve always had a knack for them, I’ll read any genre but there’s something about romance that makes you feel hopeful about your own love life, helps discover the things you yourself might like to experience with another person.” The more he talked the more his thick accent melted her ears, there was something infectious about the way he spoke, it was quite obvious that he was a man of books.

“Jake! You can clock out now. I'm sorry for being late.” A tall male who she assumed to be his coworker yells from the front counter, neither of them knew when he got there but he had now made his presence known.

“Soobin you do realize you don’t have to yell, I wasn’t even that far back in the store.” Jake walks away and she lets out an unknown sigh of relief.

For the first time since knowing about him, she found herself becoming more and more interested in Sim Jaeyun.

“So you mean to tell me you’ve really read books all your life and never picked up one poetry book?” She asks, as the two walked down the street side by side

“I’ve never found any interest in it. Why read something so short and inconclusive when I could fall into the world of a book, stimulating my imaginative side.”

“Poems may also be short but they tell a story as well, it may not be as long and drawn out as the chapters of a book, but if you find the right one you’ll fall in love with them.”

The two of them found themselves walking down the street market, her immediately stopping as her eyes fell upon the jewelry cart and he instantly took notice at what her eyes fell upon.

“Do you want one?”

“What?”

“The ring, did you want one?”

“As beautiful as they are, I can't have you buy this Jake.”

“I’ll take two of them.” He tells the seller, completely ignoring her disapproval of him spending money on her.

“Thank you.” Jake gives the seller a charming smile below continuing their walk.

“Here.” He stops only a few feet away to slip the ring on her finger before slipping one on his own.

“What is the significance of these anyways, what’s special about them?” She had been so busy staring down at her hand that she nearly ignored his question.

“They’re mood rings.”

“Like the rings that change with your mood right?” She gives him an absent nod and he looks down at her ring before looking at his own.

“Mine is dark green? What’s the meaning of it?”

“Means you’re feeling mixed emotions right now, in that case the ring can’t pinpoint any exact emotion so it turns a darker green.”

“And yours?” He responds glancing down at her ring, he nervously bit his lip, as he awaited her answer.

“Indigo.”

“What does indigo mean”

“Means I'm happy, that i'm at peace.” Jake's chest heaved a relieved sigh upon hearing those words, she was happy, and he didn’t care if it was because he had gotten her that ring or if it was because she was with him, all that mattered was she was happy.

The evening had gone by far too quick for him, she spent the entire day making him read different poems, showing him different arts and music pieces. They talked over dinner, both of them sharing their interests and talking about some of their favorite works and films that had cause their spark for the things they were so passionate about, and when they finally bid goodbye to one another Jake went home with a smile on his face while she herself went home with a feeling of dread. Before meeting Jake Poetry had been her only escape, of course she had her friends but they had their own lives of course, they couldn’t always be there when they had lives to live as well. Today with Jake had been so perfect, it wasn’t until she got home that she realized she didn’t want to leave him.

As she stepped into her home, the overwhelming sense of dread and immense sadness had overbared her. Broken glass crunched beneath her feet and the sound of yelling in a nearby room caused her to clamp her ears shut as she ran up the stairs to her room. You’d think she’d be used to it now, the constant screaming and yelling, the violently laced exchange of words between her mother and her father. She had been dealing with it since high school, so she couldn’t understand why now in her twenties she still couldn’t handle the way they talked to one another. She had no one, her little brother was never home and it's not like she wanted him to see her like this anyways, after all the oldest daughter was meant to bear all of it on her own. So she plugged her ears with her earbuds, hoping to drown out any sound of the ongoing fuss as she cried herself to sleep.

The prettiest of smiles hide the saddest of hearts

The next day she decided to lock herself in her room, it was a sunday. She should have been out and about, enjoying her day off before returning back to school, yet there she lay wasting away in her room, starving herself. Of course she couldn’t leave her room, she didn’t want to face either of them, she wished that they would just make it easy on everyone in the house and divorce but part of her also knew that that would hurt her too.

Jake on the other hand could only think about her and the previous night, he regrets not getting her number, because now he sat behind the bookstore counter wondering if she had as good a time as he did.

The next day when everyone had returned to campus Jake was quite surprised to see her joining him and his friends for lunch.

“Hi Jake. These are your friends right?” She flashes each of them a smile as she introduces herself to them. In all honesty every one of them had been quite shocked at the fact that she had been sitting at their table, it left them to wonder what exactly happened between her and Jake the day before that the two were now close.

“I wanted to ask you something.”

“I’m all ears.”

“There's a film convention coming up at the end of the month and I usually get tickets early, I was wondering if you wanted to go? They're showing stealing beauty and since you like the book too I thought we could go together?”

Jake had frozen on the spot, she was asking him to a movie?

“Yeah- yeah I’d love that it sounds fun, i'll be there.”

For some reason she found herself letting out a relieved breath she didn’t even know she had been holding in. It would have been absolutely humiliating if he had rejected her in front of his friends.

The week had gone by pretty quick, a week in which she hadn’t had much time to think about her family because she had been drowning herself in school work, poetry club and none other than Sim Jaeyun. He became her rock, someone she found herself depending on whenever she felt overwhelming sadness or dread. Whether it was the two of them reading together, watching movies, or simply sharing interests it always tore her mind away from the dreadful things in life.

The two had become quite close, so close that it was obvious to any outsiders that the two had formed some sort of feelings for one another. If it wasn’t obvious enough, the handholding, whispering to one another, or her giggling whenever he smiled or looked at her would absolutely give it away.

As she struggles to place a book onto the top shelf Jake steps behind her, taking the opportunity to snake an arm around her waist and take the book from her hands, placing it up on the shelf himself.

“You know you could have just used the stool.”

“Then how would I have gotten you to come over and help me?” Her words earn a chuckle from Jake, who brushes her hair behind her ear as she turns to face him.

“I think I deserve some sort of reward for helping you put it up anyways.”

“Is that right?”

“Mm.” He hums, leaning in pressing her against the shelf as he presses his lips against her own.

“Please don’t fuck in here I don’t think the owner will be too happy with seeing that on the cameras” Soobin chimes in from down the aisle, causing the both of them to jump.

“Ah what did I tell you about yelling bin.” Jake complains, rubbing his head after having hit on the bookshelf, which only makes her laugh.

The two walked hand and hand to the ice cream parlor that was a mere two blocks away from the bookstore, him now owing the entire club ice cream all because he had indeed, fallen in love with not only poetry, but with her.

The month had gone by smoothly, and the closer the two had gotten, the more in love they fell with one another the worse things had gotten in her family. She had been on her way out when she heard the two of them screaming their lungs out in the kitchen, her mom throwing things as per usual. It was like she couldn’t get out of the house quick enough. Jake had been making his way to the door when she stepped out, she forced a smile on her face as she saw him approaching her with flowers in his hand.

“Hi beautiful.”

“Hello handsome.” He hands her the flowers before tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Are your parents working late again? I was hoping to meet them tonight but if they’re busy again then I guess I’ll just have to catch them another time.”

“They’re gone to my brother's game.” She lied, she hated lying to him but she refused to let him see how fucked up her family had been right now, she didn’t want him looking at her differently. The entire car ride she had been silent, seemingly lost in thought, that was when Jake realized that something had been off. He took her hand into his own, rubbing over her knuckles with his thumb before bringing it to his lips for a kiss, it was then that he realized the color of her mood ring was one he had never witnessed on her finger before, Gray.

“Sweetheart you know you can tell me if something’s bothering you?”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“Your ring, whatevers stressing you out, whatever’s got you nervous, anxious you me you can tell me?” That was it, she shut down on the spot. It wasn't a lie she could lie to him; he had already known something was up by her silence and the color of her ring, but she couldn't bring herself to say a word.

How could she sit right here in the passenger seat of his car and tell him that she had been lying about her parents. How could she tell him that she’s always avoided the topic when he talked about making things official because she was scared. She was scared that this wasn’t really a romance, that she was only dependent on him to feel something other than sadness. That she was scared that if she really did love him; they would end up just like her parents. Before she had even realized tears had been streaming down her face and it sent Jake into an instant panic.

He immediately pulls up into the driveway of their destination and stops the car.

“Sweetheart, did I say something wrong? I’m sorry love i didn’t mean to-“

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? Sorry for what sweetheart, why are you apologizing?”

“For using you, for depending on you to make my shitty life not so shitty.”

“What are you talking about sweetheart you aren’t making any sense.”

“I’ve been lying to you Jake.” Her tearful eyes staring at him made him suck in a breath.

“My parents, the reason I never want you to come over or meet them is because they’re always fighting, they’re always down each other's throats, and it’s the reason my brother never even bothers to come home. I tried, I tried to be happy, you made me happy, but I- I’ve been relying on you like some sort of drug. I’ve been pretending all this time to be happy and cheerful, I’ve smiled when all I want to do is break down.”

“Why? Why didn’t you just tell me? Why didn’t you just talk to me?”

“I just- I didn’t want you to look at me differently, to not like me anymore because I wasn’t the happy cheerful girl you met on campus.” He wiped the tears from her cheeks, though endless tears continued to fall he still wiped them nonetheless, holding her head in his hands he forced her to look at him.

“Why would I give up on you for something that’s out of your control? I’ve liked you for longer than I could remember, sat alone sometimes constantly overthinking if you would like me with all my own flaws and anxieties. How could I ever stop loving you or look at you differently for showing aspects that make you human. Your parents actions or words don’t define the person that you are, so what they do I don’t care.”

“Jake.”

“I don’t care, I love you, I fell in love with you and I’m going to love you through sad and happy moments, do you think I’m always happy? That I don’t sometimes feel the stress or dread of life just crushing me, it's part of who we are, part of who all of us are, and you aren’t using me. I’ve looked into your eyes many times, and it's not guilt or deceit that I’ve seen. You love me.”

“Jake I”

“Saying it won’t make me disappear, telling me you love me won’t drive me away, you love me.” There was an overbearing silence after his words. As scared as she had been the entire time to admit it to not him but herself, he was right.

“I love you.” Her voice cracks as she finally speaks the words aloud. Three words that made Jake's heart beat faster in his chest and he was finally able to feel some sort of relief hearing her say it.

“Don’t think about anything going on at home tonight, just be in the present.” He spoke softly, a loving undertone to his voice as he cleaned her tear stained cheeks.

“Let’s make sure that by the end of the night, your ring turns back to indigo.”

[dorims]

I like the way you make me feel (about you, baby).

gif creds @/cassandrahoward

pairing. roman roy x reader

wc. ~700

genre. fluff

just a morning before work with roman roy

tags. NO beta, english isn't my first language // established relationship, roman's low self-esteem makes a very subtle appearance, suggestive (one line), mentions of roman's slutty waist (literally)

a/n. i love him your honor, thats it. i was also gonna add that for some reason i seem to be keen of writing intimate scenes inside bathrooms but that come outs...weirder than it is lol ANYWAY i hope u enjoy !!

“I have a what?”

You could see the furrow of his brows through the mirror. It made you bite back a giggle, hiding the cheeky smile on your lips behind his shoulder.

“A slutty waist.” you mumbled against his work shirt, pulling him tighter against you. It was impossible not to interrupt his morning routine when he wore those shirts and those pants and when he looked way too good for your own good. Which, to be fair, was more often than not. Regardless, there was something about him in the mornings, when his tie laid over his shoulders unknotted and his hair fell over his forehead free of gel. 

“Uh…thanks?” He looked baffled while making eye contact, and you only broke it when he shook his head, your eyes teetering upwards to see his profile. “Between the two of us, I always thought you were the slut but oh well-“

“That's not how it works!” You laughed, slapping his shoulder lightly. He pulled your arms tighter around him gently, missing the pressure around his body when you stepped backwards. 

It felt good for you too. Feeling the warmth of him after fighting your way out under the comforter made up for being woken up at 6 in the morning by his alarm. 

“Well,” interrupting himself as his fingers fought the silk of his tie into a knot. “I don’t want to be the only one that's getting slut-shamed.”

“I didn’t call you a slut, I called your waist slutty.” 

“Oh, so you’re slut-shaming my waist, same difference.” He scoffed, basking in the way you rolled your eyes as you turned his body to face you. 

He wanted to complain as your arms snaked away from his waist but held back once he felt your fingers pick up both ends of his tie. At this point, he wasn’t sure if it was some sort of weaponized incompetence or actual incompetence that didn’t allow him to tie it properly by himself. A mix of both, probably, but you always did it better than him. 

Plus, if he had to access some weird part of his brain, then he’d have to admit he quite liked it when you let it get tighter than usual before loosening it up.

“You say that as if you’ve never slut-shamed me.” You joked, pretending not to notice how he shivered when your fingers grazed his neck as you flipped the collar. 

“I don't slut-shame you, I slut-praise you.” Smirking as if trying to hide the effect you had on him, he quipped back. His attempt fell flat though. He swallowed down hard when you finished the loop of the tie with a gentle yet firm tug before smoothing it out.

“In that case, I’m praising your slutty waist too.” You let your hands trail down his chest until your grip rested on his hips. Gentle as always, your touch felt all too warm. The mushiness of being tired, you supposed. He thought so too as you pulled him closer, “And I’ll keep doing so because I think you’re,” and placed a gentle kiss against his and then hovering, intertwining each word with another. “beautiful and hot and gorgeous and breathtakingly stunning—“

“Oh fuck off, get out of here.” He broke into a bashful smile, cheeks tinted pink as you punctuated your affection with a kiss on his cheek.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty.” You sighed, pushing yourself off him to let him get ready, though not before lingering against the door frame. “I’m gonna make coffee, you want some?”

He chuckled, “You know we have people to do that, right?”

“I know,” you shrugged, “but I enjoy making some for you.”

You didn’t need verbal confirmation from him. Knowing the answer had grown into a pleasant habit, the same way picking the coffee he liked and using the same brand of low-fat milk had. 

You closed the door with a lovesickness unlike any dripping from a smile of your own. And if he had to access an even darker, twisted and weirder part of his brain, as he had done before, he would struggle to admit that the way you cared made him feel awfully warm, like hinting to the despair that gnawed at the back of his head that he wasn’t as unlovable as he thought. 

[embodimentofthemoon]

Okay so I had seen some art around for a fic on a03, and let me just say I usually don't click on the fics people draw for because I just feel I won't get to them. But then I saw another piece of work for it so I decided to click on it and have a quick read through.

And oh my God it was so good right off the bat. The fic is a Sonadow fic called The Secrets in Our Quills by Nebrasska and the writing and story is beautiful and the way scenes were explained always put a near clear picture in my head. Not to mention just how the characters are written is breathtakingly good.

It was also recently updated (With Chapter 20) and that chapter was just so good!?!? Like it was an array of emotions, not to mention the writing in that chapter, and the way that chapter was written was just so stunning and I can't even come up with words for it. Um but I couldn't hold back and drew like a scene. Or two. (Ignore the quality I have no idea how to capture what Nebrasska wrote, so I heavily recommend!)

This line will also linger in my brain forever I swear

Thank you for looking at these, I've literally never drawn the movie versions before so bare with me-

[fourmoony]

Hey! Requesting a Remus fluff where he spots reader in the library and is completely infatuated by her. James and Sirius persuades him to go up to her and eventually builds up the courage :3

hi lovely, thank you so much for requesting! hope you enjoy :) this one realllly got away from me, but I love it sm!!! he's baby your honour...

2.3k remus x fem!reader fluff language

masterlist

Sirius has his feet kicked up on the desk, his chair balancing on its hind legs and if Remus wasn't so distracted he'd probably tell him off, make up some lie about a kid he knew when he went to primary that fell and smashed his head open, caused a scene, traumatised a teacher and a classroom full of seven year olds, the paramedics ended up coming in to do a talk on classroom safety... something like that. Sirius probably wouldn't listen anyway, but at least he'd know he tried.

But he's distracted.

For once, it's not because of James' heavy handed typing as he abuses his poor laptop's keyboard, writing and erasing, writing and erasing. And it's also not because of the obnoxious groan Sirius lets out every few minutes just to make sure Remus and James know he's still there, waiting for them to be done so they can wrap up another week of uni with a few pints at the local pub.

No, today he's fully distracted by something else.

You.

It's not fair, actually. He thinks your beauty is actually hurting him, doing something funny to his heart. Can a person's beauty physically cause heart failure? Chest pains? Maybe an anxiety attack over the existential crisis he's facing knowing he'll never be able to have you? Remus doesn't know, but he thinks James would - he's the one doing his PhD, after all. Not that Remus would ever admit to finding you so breathtakingly beautiful it's causing physical pain. No, Sirius and James would never let him live that down.

So instead, he pretends to read his textbook on astro-physics, everything he's supposed to be revising going straight over his head, while stealing glances at you two tables over. You're in your own world, furiously typing into your laptop, stopping every now and then to take a sip of the comically large coffee beside you. It's midterm season, your large coffee is warranted in Remus' humble opinion. Not that you're even aware he's in solidarity of it. James would probably have some boring medical fact about coffee stunting growth and hormones or some load of bollocks similar, but he doesn't care.

Every now and then, you'll pout at your laptop screen, tilting your head to the side like whatever is on your screen has personally offended you. It makes Remus' heart slam against his rib cage in a totally annoying, embarrassing way he wishes he could make soft. He's not a creep. Really, he's not. He knows you. Somewhat. You've met a couple times when you've been chatting to Marlene - who shares a Comms class with you - either in the library or at the pub on the occasional Friday you make an appearance with your friends. It's not like he's having these weird feelings about a stranger. Well. A complete stranger. But there's just something so startling about how kissable your lips are, so soft looking and pink, and adorable in the way your head tilts like that of a confused puppy.

Your attention leaves the screen in front of you in an instant as if you can feel Remus' pining from ten feet away, eyes scanning your surroundings, and when your eyes meet his, Remus chokes on thin air. Thin fucking air. He's so shocked you've caught him, so shocked you're actually a real person he can make eye contact with and not a figment of his imagination, that he chokes, eyes widening, and looks back down to the text book in front of him. He resigns to the awful feeling of humiliation creeping up his neck, accepts the fate of his crimson red cheeks.

"Subtle." Sirius comments, a sickening smirk that Remus just knows means he's been caught graces the former Black Heir's lips and he'd rather like to kick the two back legs out from under best friend's chair now, thanks.

Even though he knows he's been caught, Remus schools his features, because he's actually very capable of that when it comes to his friends, and returns to his book, flipping the page with what he hopes is nonchalance and shrugs, "Dunno what you're on about."

Sirius scoffs obnoxiously, just like Remus knew he would, and returns his chair back to four legs with haste, arms planted on the table in front of him and a look on his face that reads 'I hate to break it to you, but you're the most obvious bloke on the planet'. "Mate, just go over and put us all out of our misery. It's painful."

"It is, mate." James mumbles agreeably, still very much engrossed in the battering of his keyboard. It's a wonder he hasn't broken the thing, Remus thinks.

Remus rolls his eyes. If only it were that simple. How could anything be that simple when you're so infuriatingly beautiful Remus doesn't think he could get two words in to a conversation with you without making a royal twat of himself.

"You make it sound so simple, Pads, truly." Remus drawls sarcastically, eyes still downcast on the book in front of him.

He hasn't read and actually processed a single sentence since he caught sight of you on arrival. He's well and truly fucked.

Sirius scrubs his hands up and down his face like Remus' hesitance is physically paining him, "C'mon, Moony. They didn't call you the Casanova of Gryffindor House for nothing, mate."

It's Remus' turn to scoff, now. He was hardly a Casanova. Just a nice bloke who girls happened to be attracted to. But that was a private boarding school where girls had no access to the outside world apart from the odd weekend at the school's nearest village. You live in a world with people disposable at your fingertips. Coffee shop baristas, classmates, the people on the commute to your classes, there's an endless opportunity for you to meet someone of interest. And how is Remus supposed to compete with that?

"Not happening. I'll suffer in silence, thanks." Remus tells Sirius, a tight lipped smile about his face that he hopes Sirius will read as the end of the conversation.

Clearly, Sirius is no better at social cues now than when Remus first met him, because his friend rolls his eyes and returns to leaning back on his chair, legs once again kicked up onto the desk, muddy boots falling on a piece of paper Remus knows he'll probably have to rewrite, now. "All I'm saying is what do you have to lose? You ask her out she says no, you go back to staring at her like a right creep from two desks over, or," He makes a flourishing movement with his hands, ever the one for dramatics, "She says yes, you bang, fall in love, get married, have kids, etcetera, etcetera."

Sirius' smile is triumphant, like he truly believes he's some sort of genius and Remus can't help the way his lips tick up in amusement. Maybe he has a point, but anxiety still claws at Remus' chest.

"He's got a point, mate," James has pushed his laptop away from himself, his circular glasses balancing haphazardly on his forehead as he rubs tiredly at his face, "Even if he didn't, I'm still begging you to go over there just to get him," he jabs a finger at Sirius, who preens proudly, "to shut up so I can get this paper finished."

Remus sighs, mulls it over in his head, an endless list of outcomes, variables, it's what his scientist mind is programmed to think like. But he gives Sirius a look, finds his best friend staring at him earnestly, and he realises that Sirius doesn't actually see it as a big joke. He truly thinks Remus should do it.

"Fine." Remus bites, taking a breath and pushing himself out of his seat.

Sirius pumps his fists in the air so violently his chair wobbles, but Remus doesn't look back. If he does, he might turn around and give up, go back to staring from afar. God, maybe he is a creep.

You're so engrossed in whatever you're working on, you don't realise Remus hovering at the seat across from you. When you do, you jump a little, and Remus opens his mouth to apologise, but you're already speaking, a wide smile gracing your lips, features completely taken over by the kindness in your eyes - you recognise him, "Remus, right? You're friends with Marls."

Remus nods, swallows the thickness in his throat. He doesn't trust himself to talk, just yet, so he's grateful when you nod your head to the seat across from you, welcoming him to sit. You half close the lid of your laptop, offering him your full attention and wait patiently for him to talk.

"How are your midterms going, by the way?" You ask when Remus finds himself unable to start a conversation.

You don't seem put off by his apparent silence, more than happy to carry the conversation if he needs. He's grateful, because your direct question has given him a reason to speak, a boundary of the things he can say. He's not worried about shouting just how beautiful he finds you for the entire campus library to hear when he has a strict criteria of answers he can give. Well. He's less worried. It's still not impossible.

"Uh, alright, thanks. You're taking Art History, right? Hows that going?" He hopes he's not misheard Marlene's brief introduction, and he knows he hasn't when you preen at his remembrance.

You nod enthusiastically, hair bouncing over your shoulders with the movement, "Yeah! It's currently kicking my arse, but I'll pull through. I imagine it's not as hard as," you pause, brows furrowing for half a second before Remus sees a lightbulb go off behind your eyes, your smile returning, along with the smooth plane of your forehead, crease gone, "Astro-physics, right?"

Remus tries not to think about the way his entire stomach knots up and threatens to give out over the fact you know what his degree is. There's every chance Marlene has told you, like she told him your degree, but he can't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, you'd asked about him. Instead, he smiles dutifully, even though he can feel his somewhat calm and collected exterior melting away, "Yeah, astro-physics. But I imagine they're equally challenging in different ways."

You seem to like that answer, following along and nodding amicably to show you're listening, "I suppose you're right. Although, I think you could explain it to me like a five year old, and I'd still be lost."

Remus laughs. Not at you, but at the perplexed expression on your face as you imagine such a scenario. You shake your head out, giving him your full attention again. You're so lovely. So sweet and nice and Remus feels like he might actually have a shot, if your kindness and patience so far is anything to go on.

"If it makes you feel any better, I couldn't tell you squat about the Mona Lisa." Remus shrugs.

It's your turn to laugh, your head tilting back ever so slightly as it rocks through you. The sound is like music to Remus' ears. He decides then and there he'll do anything, forever, to get you to make that sound again. He commits it to memory, allows it to warm his chest, potential heart attack be damned.

"You're cute, Remus Lupin." You're amused as you say it, eyes shining with a kind of fondness Remus allows to steal his breath.

He thinks maybe you don't mean to say it, at first, but when your gaze holds his, confident and teasing Remus knows. He just. He knows. You're into him, too. Maybe not as deep as he's into you, but the interest is there and that's all Remus cares about.

"A few of us are going to the pub in a few for some drinks, Marlene will be there. Did you maybe want to join us?" Remus asks, an uncomfortable heat in his cheeks even though he knows you're likely to say yes.

He chuckles when you pretend to think it over, pout twisting into an amused grin when you go to speak, "Sure, Remus. I'd love to."

Remus feels like he's won some sort of gold medal, maybe the lottery. He's not sure. But what he does know is that his blood is thrumming through his veins in a way it never has before with pure elation. You're grinning ear to ear, already beginning to pack up your things. He waits patiently while you do, following your lead in standing up. You round the table, closer to him, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

"Remus?" You ask, stepping into his space and he can smell your perfume, your shampoo, so sweet he thinks he's going to pass out.

"Yeah?" He asks.

"I only have one condition."

He arches an eyebrow, urges you to go on.

"Next time, it's just us two. A proper date." You smile sweetly, completely unaware of the affect your sultry voice has on Remus' already weak knees.

His breath catches in his throat as you look up at him, your tiny hand encircling his wrist oh so carefully.

"Yeah?" His voice is gravelly, lips threatening to turn up in a wicked grin, "I'm sure we can make that happen."

Just like that, you step out of Remus' space, hand dropping his wrist and your teasing smile falling back into your soft, kind grin, "Great. I'm all yours for the rest of the night, Remus."

Remus almost groans as he leads you back over to Sirius and James, who are grinning like cheshire cats as they pack up their belongings to follow suit with you and Remus. He's met his match, he thinks. You're well and truly going to be the end of him.

Not that he cares in the slightest.

[whateverisbeautiful]

Richonne in Retrospect - The 💋 List

(every Richonne kiss ranked)

#1: The Epic Reunion Kiss (1.02) 🎉

🏆🎊🥳 #1!! 🏆🎊🥳 The winner for my favorite Richonne kiss of all time goes to Richonne's epic reunion kiss. It's gold, it's triple platinum, it's magnetic, it's everything. My goodness, they did their big one with this kiss. 🤩 Our captains always understand the assignment when it comes to Richonne - as evidenced in every single one of the scenes on this Top 30. But the big and highly anticipated assignment of portraying Richonne's first time in front of each other and first real kiss in years was going to have high expectations - and y'all, they aced it to perfection with what they delivered during this Richonne reunion.

This kiss is the definition of a soul kiss. Because truly it feels like this is Richonne's souls interlocking in this moment as they bask in the bliss of finally being reunited with their soulmate. At long last.🥹...

I always say when Rick and Michonne are together the world can wait. And the kiss they had during this reunion took it a step further because truly time stood still. All there was for a moment was Richonne and their love and it was a breathtakingly beautiful thing to behold. The reunion was already so perfectly crafted with the explosive way these two end up in the same vicinity and Michonne taking out soldiers left and right before putting her katana to a masked Rick's neck. And then when they lay eyes on each other for the first time and are hit first with a wave of shock and then a wave of emotions as they realize the love of their life is in front of them. 😭

I love seeing the way they approach each other with tears in their eyes. Those magnets kick in immediately and lead them to have such a heartfelt first embrace - with snow naturally falling and making the moment even more enchanting. Michonne's joyous declaration of "I found you" and Rick nestled into her, receiving warmth like this for the first time in almost a decade just puts a tear in my eye. I love that being a true father through and through, Rick's first words are checking in on Judith. It's precious how happy Michonne is to assure him their baby girl is alive and how relieved he is to hear that. And then it's so sweet how Rick is nervous as he finds the words to assure Michonne that he's not really with these other soldiers and Michonne doesn't hesitate to let him know she already knows.

And then once they've addressed their daughter and Rick's status with these masked folks, it's time for the two to more personally address each other. And I love that they do so with a gorgeous kiss that speaks volumes. You can visibly see Rick become entirely focused on loving on Michonne and he truly leans in like her kiss is the nourishment he's desperately needed for so long. And Michonne's joyous smile as she knows she's about to finally kiss her husband after years of holding onto hope that he was alive from afar. I've said it a lot in these posts but it's just the best way to put it - I love the way they lock in with this kiss. And I love that Richonne didn't have to hesitate or wonder if the other had moved on. All they had to do was look into each other's eyes and know the love of their life was still very much theirs.

It's great how Rick is both hungry for Michonne's kiss and eager to shower her in kisses. And I adore the way Michonne wraps her arms around him and truly conveys that she still has all the love in the world for him. They never stopped loving each other and this kiss assured them both of that. There are 7 kisses within this kiss and y'all know my extra self could write a whole paragraph about each one. I love that they both don't want to stop as they pull each other in close. They so clearly felt alive in this kiss. They'd gone through so much hardship over the years and they'd even just been through some pretty wild stuff mere minutes before, but for this moment all of that faded to the background as they just got to exist in their impeccable love.

After being unwillingly kept apart for so long, they kiss here like they want to be as attached as possible. They kiss like in no time at all, they're back to organically feeling like one intertwined soul. Also, this reunion kiss made it clear that no matter what was in store for Richonne in TOWL, Rick and Michonne were going to figure it out and rise above because their love was still as bright, enduring, and alive as ever. And so long as they have this love they really can overcome anything.

If someone said I have to select just one of Rick and Michonne's kisses to convey the cosmic soulmate level of Richonne to people unfamiliar with them, I'd choose this reunion kiss. It's incredibly romantic, heartfelt, sexy, intimate, hungry, sincere, vulnerable, joyous, loving, and passionate on the highest level. It's Richonne. And I love that every time I see this stunning reunion scene I can palpably feel the joy radiating off my two favorite characters as they relish in having found the other half of their soul against all odds. Rick and Michonne's connection is one of a kind and their every kiss reflects that. And this #1 kiss is a shining example of why Richonne has a love supreme. Truly a love story for the ages. ♥️

[pandorasword]

Chaeri as the 8th and youngest member of BTS.

CHAERI'S MASTERLIST

PTD On Stage in LA | Day 3

❒ genre: Slice of life

❒ words: 972

❒ summary: In which Chaeri uses Tae's beauty to her benefit

❒ prompts requested from the dialogue prompts game: “Wow, I really can’t speak, huh? Must be because of how pretty you look”

She was never good with words. She preferred facts: solid, reliable, hard to misunderstand. Words, on the other hand, always seemed elusive, ungraspable, especially when she had to use them in English. The situation worsened drastically when she found herself in front of thousands of people, right after singing for two hours non-stop. What was so difficult about a simple 'thank you'? For her, it was a real mystery. In fact, she didn’t believe a speech was necessary to express the emotion she felt every time. Hearing her songs sung by so many voices, with different accents, but with the same passion she put into them… she was sure it was evident during her performances how much she appreciated and was grateful for everything.

But it should be considered that those who cause their own misfortune should weep for themselves. She knew that day would come. She had all those years of experience and a highly competent team to ignore the inevitability of that moment. She could have taken the time to prepare a few sentences in English, memorize the pronunciation, and say them on stage. Instead, look at that, she had done nothing and couldn’t even remember why

In just a few seconds, all the times she had literally fled the room when she saw the English coach enter came back to her. It was almost like a scene from a cartoon: he came in one door and she scurried out the other, as if her only purpose in life was to avoid that conversation.

She had to refrain from slapping her forehead for being so stupid and irresponsible. She was still on stage, under the gaze of thousands of people.

Tae had just finished his speech. His English was insecure, his pronunciation questionable, but at least he had said something.

That evening, he stood out among the other seven, entirely dressed in red with a mask on his face, he had fun dancing and singing in a costume inspired by the Squid Game series, which had conquered the world in record time. And the crowd was ecstatic. A true show genius, born to capture attention: that's who Kim Taehyung was.

A shiver ran down her sweaty back, a testament to the hours spent jumping and running, reproducing the choreographies she knew by heart for that performance. 

It was her turn to speak.

With an uncertain gesture, she brought the microphone to her lips. Embarrassed, with no idea what to say or how to formulate a coherent speech, she searched the most remote areas of her brain for a foothold, a memory, or anything that could help her find the right words.

Then, suddenly, the screams of the crowd became so loud that they overwhelmed even her chaotic thoughts. Behind her, on the huge screen, appeared Taehyung who had removed his mask. 

And, damn, he was breathtakingly beautiful.

At that moment, a fleeting memory from a few days before came back to her: she remembered Namjoon, visibly irritated, trying to watch an episode of Friends. The younger members of the group were making noise around him, forcing him to restart the same part of the episode several times because he couldn't hear the lines.

Yes, that line she had heard repeated at least five times was perfect, and luckily, it had stuck in her mind.

She turned towards Taehyung, just a few meters away from her. The blue lenses of his eyes shone under the reflection of the multicolored stage lights, accentuated by the glows of the armybombs not far from them.

“Wow, I really can’t speak, huh? Must be because of how pretty you look”

The crowd roared in approval, shouted for the interaction, clapped for the way the boy's cheeks turned red, almost as red as his costume, because of the unexpected compliment.

The rest of the members burst into laughter, teasing Taehyung, while she realized that the attention from her speech had successfully been diverted elsewhere.

What a perfect end, she would have shaken her own hand in congratulations.

Later, in the backstage

“Chaeri-yaaaaa, you made me blush like crazy out there. Did everyone notice?” said Tae, walking beside Chaeri, an arm around her shoulders and almost all his weight leaning on her, partly from the exhaustion of the evening, partly because he loved to tease her.

"Every single person here saw how red you got" Jimin replied with an amused smile before the girl could, taking the perfect opportunity to tease his group mate when he was usually the butt of the jokes.

"Aish" Tae sighed theatrically, faking a look of devastation "my reputation as a tough guy is ruined because of you, Chaeri-ya."

Chaeri raised an eyebrow. “When have you ever had a tough guy reputation?” she said with a playful tone

"Hey, you" a sarcastic, accusatory tone came from Namjoon as he approached the trio, who were dragging their feet, destroyed by now, along the floor, hoping to reach a place where they could sleep for hours. Many hours.

"Don't think I didn't realize you did it to avoid the speech you were supposed to prepare for tonight" Namjoon looked at her with a look that said it all, the look of someone who raised you and knows all your little tricks. 

"Oops?" she looked at him, softening her eyes and curling her lips a bit to look more innocent - which she wasn't - and more forgivable - her behavior was absolutely unforgivable -. 

"So you didn't think for real that I was so handsome to leave you speechless?" Tae had pulled away from her half hug to look her in the eyes, his tone high-pitched.

"If it makes you feel better, I really think you're the prettiest of us all" 

"Ha! Did you hear that, Hyung? I really am the prettiest"

taglist: @alixnsuperstxr | @bts-dream | @enchantingbrowneyedgirl | @ycuvi | @cosmicwintr

[winxanity-ii]

⌜Godly Things | DIVINE WHISPERS: Gilded Grieverance DIVINE WHISPERS: Gilded Grieverance | divine whispers: gilded grieverance⌟

╰ ⌞🇨‌🇭‌🇦‌🇵‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌ 🇮‌🇳‌🇩‌🇪‌🇽‌⌝

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You found yourself waking up in a shimmering, soft pink palace, disoriented and overwhelmed by the sudden shift in your surroundings.

The air was warm and filled with the delicate scent of roses. As your senses adjusted, you noticed you were lying on a vast pile of white roses, their petals soft and cool against your skin, their fragrance sweet and calming.

You sat up slowly, taking in the grandeur of the palace. Tall white pillars reached up to a ceiling painted with a mural of the sky at dawn, soft blues and pinks blending seamlessly. The light filtering through the room had a golden quality, casting everything in a warm, ethereal glow.

Glancing down at yourself, you realized you were still in your night clothes, a simple gown that felt unusually soft against your skin, as if woven from clouds. Barefoot, you stood up, the rose petals brushing off your clothes and falling softly back to the floor.

As you walked through the palace, each step was silent, the floor beneath your feet made of marble that gleamed as if it were still wet with morning dew. The palace seemed endless, with archways and hallways branching off in every direction, each path lined with more white roses and soft pink blooms that filled the air with a heady scent.

The reality of the place didn't entirely make sense—it all felt like a dream, hazy and slightly unreal.

You wandered in awe, touching the smooth marble of the pillars, the texture grounding you amidst the overwhelming beauty. The gentle warmth of the palace air brushed against your cheeks, comforting yet mystifying in its gentle embrace.

As you explored, the sound of a distant melody caught your ear—a soft, haunting tune. Intrigued and somewhat entranced, you followed the music, each note pulling you deeper into a part of the palace you hadn't yet explored.

As you followed the song, it led you through a series of winding corridors, each more lavishly decorated than the last. The walls shimmered with a gentle iridescence, the light catching on the mosaics of seashells and pearls that adorned them, casting subtle reflections that danced across the high ceilings like water.

The air was perfumed with a blend of ocean breeze and blooming roses, creating a heady scent that both soothed and excited your senses. Your footsteps were silent, guided by the echoes of the enchanting melody like an invisible thread.

Finally, the music led you to a set of grand double doors, their surfaces carved with scenes of divine revelry, gods and goddesses in poses of joy and celebration. Pushing them open, you entered what could only be described as a throne room, though it was unlike any you had ever seen.

The vast space was bathed in a soft pink light, casting everything in a warm, inviting glow.

At the far end of the room, on a dais, sat a figure so breathtakingly beautiful that for a moment, you forgot to breathe. She reclined casually on a throne of polished coral and pearl, her posture relaxed yet inherently regal.

Surrounding her, two nymphs floated, their delicate wings fluttering softly as they fanned her with large feather fans. The gentle breeze they created stirred the goddess's golden hair, which cascaded over her shoulders in waves of liquid sunlight.

Her gown flowed around her like a second skin, made of fabric that shimmered with every movement, hues shifting between the softest pinks and rich creams. It clung to her form, highlighting the graceful curves of her body, and spilled out around her throne in a pool of fabric soft as foam. She nibbled on chocolate-covered strawberries, the dark richness of the chocolate a stark contrast to her pale, flawless skin.

Her face was the epitome of divine allure. High cheekbones, a delicate nose, and full lips painted a soft rose were framed by her cascading hair.

But it was her eyes that truly captivated you—pale blue, almost translucent, with an intensity that seemed to look straight through you. They sparkled with a light that was both warm and mischievous, hinting at a depth of emotion and power beyond human comprehension.

For a moment, you simply stood there, captivated.

It seemed to take her only a brief moment to register your presence fully. With a languid, graceful movement, she shifted in her throne, her posture straightening as she bestowed upon you a gaze that was both commanding and curiously inviting.

A slight, knowing smile tugged at the corners of her lush lips as she waved off the nymphs with a flick of her wrist. Their movements ceased immediately, and with a bow, they drifted to the peripheries of the room, their forms fading into the soft shadows cast by the flickering light.

"Come closer," she beckoned you, her voice like velvet, rich and smooth, echoing slightly in the vast chamber.

Hesitantly, you stepped forward, each movement towards her feeling as if you were being drawn by invisible strings. The soft echoes of your footsteps mingled with the still-hovering notes of the melody that had led you there.

As you approached, her eyes followed every step, examining you with an intensity that made your heart beat faster. You stopped a few feet before her throne, suddenly very aware of your simple night clothes and bare feet in such a regal setting.

"Do you know who I am?"

You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry as you met her gaze. "No," you hesitated, then added, as courage found its way into your voice, "But if I had to guess... I'd say you must be Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty."

At your words, a pleased expression swept over Aphrodite's features, her posture subtly shifting as she preened slightly at the praise. "And what, pray tell, gave it away? Was it my beauty?" Her tone was playful yet carried an undertone of genuine curiosity.

"Y-Yes," you answered, your voice steadier as you spoke. "There's an aura about you that seems to weave beauty and grace into the very air. Its unlike anything I've ever felt or seen."

Her laughter, light and musical, filled the room, and the warmth in her eyes brightened noticeably. "You have a charming way with words," she complimented, her smile broadening. "It's rare to find a mortal who can stand in the presence of a goddess and still find their voice."

You felt a flush of warmth at her words, a mix of embarrassment and a peculiar sense of pride. Here you were, in a place beyond the ordinary, speaking with a being of myth and legend. It was surreal, and yet Aphrodite's demeanor, while regal, was not unkind. She observed you with a sort of amusement, as if your human foibles were endearing rather than disappointing.

"I suppose I shouldn't keep you in suspense," Aphrodite said after a moment, her voice smooth as silk yet carrying an undeniable authority. "You may be wondering why I'm meddling with your dreams, infiltrating your thoughts."

You nodded, your earlier nerves settling into a focus on her words. Her acknowledgment of her involvement in your experiences both alarmed and intrigued you.

She sighed softly, the sound like a melody fading into silence. "It's about the young prince, Telemachus..." Her tone softened, tinged with a reluctant apology. "I may have... influenced him more strongly than I intended. And for that, I apologize."

At the mention of Telemachus, the events of just a few hours ago flashed vividly in your mind. You remembered how he had appeared at the feast, his behavior erratic and unlike himself, his sudden collapse. After he had passed out, you had stayed by his side for an extra hour, ensuring he was stable. Once you were certain he wouldn't require immediate medical intervention, you had fetched a male servant to change him out of his ceremonial clothes before you retired to your own room, using your exhaustion as an excuse to escape the festive chaos.

Coming from your thoughts, you stared up at the goddess, sputtering, "That was you?"

Aphrodite sighed, rolling her eyes as she leaned on her hand, admitting to it. "Yes, that was me," she said, a note of annoyance in her voice as if the confession was being forced from her. "Telemachus has been... let's say, less than subtle about his feelings for you. He's been complaining, lamenting to the skies, as if I'm the one letting you slip away. Can you believe it? As if I control every little mortal feeling."

She waved her hand dismissively, brushing off the prince's emotional outbursts as trivial. "He's been practically crying out to me in prayers, loud monologues as if it's my fault," she continued, her tone a mixture of amusement and irritation. "So I thought, why not speed things up a bit? After all, what's a goddess for if not to stir the pot from time to time?"

Her lips curved into a wry smile, a spark of mischief lighting up her eyes. "And, of course, my son Eros sometimes takes things a little too far, but that's love for you," she shrugged nonchalantly. "Chaotic, unpredictable, and wildly out of control. But isn't that the beauty of it?"

The way she spoke of love—her domain—as something living and dynamic, it was clear that the goddess viewed these divine interventions as mere nudges on the paths mortals walked, little realizations of the chaotic nature of emotions and relationships.

"And now here we are," she concluded, her gaze piercing through you as if trying to gauge the effect of her handiwork. "A little chaos to liven up the predictable patterns of mortal affairs. Tell me, has it not made things more... interesting?"

Internally, you didn't quite know how to feel about Aphrodite's revelation.

The rush of emotions that had overwhelmed you during Telemachus' intense actions, now felt manipulated, tainted by the realization that they were spurred by the goddess of love herself. Your cheeks warmed with a mix of embarrassment and confusion, your mind racing as you tried to sort through the cascade of feelings.

Was it all really just a play of the gods? How much of what I felt was truly mines, and how much had been planted by divine whimsy? The thought made you feel like a pawn on a chessboard, moved at the whim of celestial beings for their amusement or agendas. The spontaneity and sincerity of the night's events were now called into question, leaving you unsure about what was real and what was merely the result of Aphrodite's or Eros' meddling.

As you processed these thoughts, Aphrodite watched you keenly, clearly curious about your reaction to her confession. Eventually, finding your voice, you managed to croak out, "It was just... unexpected." The words felt inadequate to describe the maelstrom inside you, but they were all you could muster under her scrutinizing gaze.

Before you could gather your thoughts further or voice another response, Aphrodite shifted on her throne, her demeanor changing as she prepared to reveal more. "There's something else you should know," she began, her voice smooth but carrying an edge of significance that made you tense. "The curse that has long shadowed your family—I've recently lifted it."

The revelation hit you like a wave, sudden and disorienting. "Curse?" you blurted out before you could stop yourself. The word felt heavy, laden with implications you couldn't immediately grasp.

Aphrodite blinked, a flicker of surprise crossing her otherwise composed features, as if she hadn't expected your ignorance. "You didn't know?" she asked, her tone turning coquettish as she leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. "Oh, my dear, haven't you ever wondered why misfortune seemed such a frequent guest in your life?"

You paused, processing her words. It was true—your life had been a series of unfortunate events, from minor mishaps to more profound losses. You'd always chalked it up to bad luck or perhaps fate's disfavor, but a curse?

As Aphrodite casually recounted the tale of your ancestors, her demeanor transformed subtly. It was as if the mere memory of the slight against her invoked a distaste that she could barely conceal. "Oh, it was such a trivial thing for them," she said, her face pinching slightly as if the memory were a sour taste she couldn't spit out. "A young man, deeply in love with a girl he was arranged to marry. They lived blissfully, loving quietly in a manner that irked me."

You listened, captivated yet disturbed by the casual way she spoke of changing fates as if adjusting an ornament on her lavish attire. "They never thanked me, you see," she continued, her voice laced with a cold humor. "Here I was, the goddess of love, and not once did they make an offering at my altars. Worse, they never showed their love outwardly. No grand declarations, no passionate displays—it was as if they thought their silent, private love was enough. As if they thought their happiness was theirs alone to credit."

Her fingers tapped impatiently on the arm of her throne, the rhythmic sound echoing slightly in the grand room. "And so, I decided a lesson was in order," Aphrodite declared, her pale blue eyes hardening with the recollection. "For every generation that followed, I ensured that their love stories would be... complicated. Heartbreak for heartbreak, pain for their disregard."

The casual cruelty in her recounting sent a chill down your spine. Here was a deity who manipulated mortal lives over perceived slights, holding grudges with a pettiness that belied her divine stature.

The realization that a deity's casual decision had so profoundly impacted your life sparked a cascade of thoughts and emotions within you.

It was difficult to reconcile the image of Aphrodite, the goddess of love, with the vengeful deity who had so nonchalantly manipulated the fates of mortals. Yet, despite the turmoil her revelations caused, you acknowledged the fundamental nature of the gods: powerful, unpredictable, and, above all, fickle.

This understanding didn't ease the bitterness that lingered, but it framed the divine caprices in a context you could grasp—if not fully accept.

Clearing your throat, you mustered the composure to address Aphrodite with the respect her divine status commanded, despite the turmoil inside you. "Thank you, Aphrodite, for lifting the curse," you managed to say, your voice steady though your mind was anything but. You bowed deeply, the gesture one of both respect and a need to collect yourself.

Aphrodite, reveling in the acknowledgment, received your thanks with a pleased smile. Her cheeks tinged with a blush, a rare show of modesty from such a powerful figure. "Oh, it's quite alright, darling," she responded, her voice laced with the satisfaction of being praised. "It's refreshing to see such gratitude and understanding. You're quite sweet, aren't you?" Her words were soft, almost affectionate, a stark contrast to the harshness of her earlier demeanor.

Straightening up, she regarded you with a look that suggested she considered the matter now closed. "Very well, that's all," she declared, her tone shifting back to the regal and composed Goddess of Love you had first encountered.

As the dreamlike quality of your surroundings began to dissolve, signaling the end of this unexpected encounter, Aphrodite's final words lingered in the air, cryptic and cautionary. "Just remember, dear, not to make the same mistakes as your ancestors."

With those parting words, the lush, rose-scented surroundings of the dream began to fade, the soft pink hues and the warm glow of the torches dimming as you slowly drifted back toward consciousness.

The echo of her voice followed you, a reminder that while the curse might be lifted, the whims of the gods remained a powerful force, one that could shift the course of your life in ways you could scarcely imagine.

A/N: a/n

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[mozeko-moeko]