#MIX AND MATCH EPISODE 2 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

koyagifs · 5 days ago

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EP.20 to the room of truth

1.4M views | 84k likes | wc: 2.2k | 9th member WARNING: this episode contains alcohol, teasing, reader is a lightweight. yeosang focus.

in this tacit rule of republic of korea

Your face was bright red—almost perfectly matching San’s—as you quietly picked at the food in front of you. A smile lingered on your lips, the buzz setting in pleasantly. You didn’t even notice the driver had returned until the door clicked shut again.

Yeosang, leaning slightly against you, caused you to glance at him in confusion—until he shifted the other way just as Hongjoong stumbled and nearly fell back in his seat, drawing a burst of laughter from you.

More food was brought to the table, and you perked up instantly, grabbing your chopsticks with excitement. Yeosang, ever attentive, scooped a bit more into your bowl before pouring shots for both of you.

You looked up just in time to see Mingi standing, arms wide, swaying a little as he burst into song.

“I am! Alcohol free~ and I’m drunk~!” he sang proudly.

You couldn’t help but giggle, joining in with a cheerful, “I haven’t had a sip~!”

The boys all cheered, raising their glasses and clinking them together. You downed your shot in one go, barely even flinching this time.

“Are… YN and San okay?” Hongjoong asked after a beat, squinting across the table.

You looked up just as San took another shot, looking like he’d just finished running a marathon—hair tousled, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy but determined.

“They’re good drinkers,” Wooyoung said confidently, grinning as he leaned back in his chair.

“Are you crying right now?” Hongjoong asked, eyeing you with amusement as a soft giggle slipped out.

You quickly shook your head, lips twitching into a smile—though your eyes were definitely a little glassy. Across the table, San shut his eyes tightly, his face somehow turning an even deeper shade of red.

“I’m not crying!” he insisted, though his voice cracked just enough to make the others laugh.

Seonghwa leaned across Yeosang, his hand reaching out in mock comfort as he sang in a teasing tone, “Don’t cry, sillies~ I’m really okay~”

You snorted and tossed a plastic bottle cap at him, which bounced harmlessly off his arm. He just chuckled, clearly enjoying himself.

“Wanna play a drinking game?” Wooyoung asked, his hand casually resting on your leg now, fingers tracing small shapes.

Your eyes widened in alarm, head shaking before he even finished the sentence. “I’ll sit this one out,” you said quickly, clutching your glass like a lifeline.

“Smart choice,” Yeosang whispered, smirking as he nudged your side.

Wooyoung leaned toward Jongho, still relaxed. “Think about it, Jongho.”

But Jongho was already rolling up his sleeves with a spark in his eye. “Let’s fill a beer cup with soju and play rock, paper, scissors. Losing team shares the glass.”

The table exploded in mixed reactions—groans, laughter, and someone (probably San) whispering “death wish” under their breath.

team 1: Seonghwa, Yeosang, San, Mingi and Jongho team 2: Hongjoong, yn, Yunho, Wooyoung

“YN and San can go first,” Jongho announced with a smug grin, already anticipating the chaos.

You and San faced each other, both giggling under your breath as you shook out your hands in sync.

“Rock, paper, scissors—shoot!”

You both threw out rock.

San blinked. You blinked.

A beat of silence passed.

“Again!” Wooyoung called from behind you, already snickering.

You reset.

“Rock, paper, scissors—shoot!”

You went rock again… and San pulled out paper.

A loud chorus of “OHHHHH!” echoed from both teams.

Your jaw dropped. “You traitor!” you cried, pointing dramatically at San as he grinned triumphantly, cheeks still flushed from earlier.

“Sorry not sorry,” San laughed, leaning back into Yeosang, clearly riding the high of his win.

Wooyoung slid an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in close as he cooed, “It’s okay, baby. We’ll win the war.”

“Now it’s San hyung and Wooyoung hyung!” Jongho announced, already giggling to himself.

The two held out their hands.

Wooyoung: rock. San: paper.

A collective groan echoed around your team.

You let your head fall against Yeosang’s shoulder, whining softly. Wooyoung just stared blankly at the table, his soul clearly leaving his body.

“San hyung and Hongjoong hyung, you're up!”

Hongjoong: scissors. San: rock.

Another round of cheers from the opposing team. You sat up and glared at Wooyoung, who was still refusing to make eye contact with anyone—especially you.

“Yunho hyung and San hyung!” Jongho called, trying to contain his laughter.

Yunho: rock. San: scissors.

Your eyes widened as Yunho smiled confidently. “Let’s turn this around,” he said.

A glimmer of hope sparked in your chest... only to die instantly.

“Yunho hyung and Mingi hyung next!”

Yunho: rock. Mingi: paper.

You slumped back in your chair with a dramatic groan, covering your face with both hands.

Jongho, ever the chaos coordinator, clapped his hands together. “Now a game between the three of you—”

“A practice game!” Yunho interrupted quickly, straightening up with an innocent smile, trying his absolute best to dodge the incoming soju doom.

There was a beat of stunned silence before the entire table burst into loud protests.

“YAH!”

“No way!”

“Nice try,Yunho!”

Except for you.

You stayed quiet, arms crossed, simply watching Yunho with an amused tilt to your head.

Jongho stood firm, shaking his head with mock severity. “There are no practice rounds in drinking games!”

“There’s a silent rule in Korea,” Jongho explained confidently, waving his hand like a seasoned veteran. “You learn the games as you drink. It even has a melody!”

That earned a round of chuckles before the final showdown was declared:

Yunho vs. YN vs. Hongjoong vs. Wooyoung.

Hands raised, everyone got ready.

You: rock Yunho: scissors Hongjoong: scissors Wooyoung: paper

Wooyoung froze mid-motion, blinking in disbelief.

You jumped up in your seat, throwing your hands in the air. “YES! Finally!” you shouted, grinning like you’d just won the lottery.

“Rock supremacy!” you declared dramatically as everyone laughed.

Yunho and Hongjoong locked eyes, doing their own round to decide their fate—intense, silent, and hilariously serious—before a groan revealed Hongjoong’s second loss of the night.

But just as you were about to celebrate your victory fully, Jongho raised the cursed cup of soju and pointed directly at you.

“YN, you still have to drink.”

“Huh?!” you exclaimed, whipping your head toward him so fast your hair flew. “But I won!”

Jongho shrugged, far too smug. “No immunity. It’s a rite of passage.”

The boys howled with laughter as you stared at the cup in your hand like it had personally betrayed you.

“This feels targeted,” you muttered, holding the cup up dramatically like it was your final moment on Earth.

The lineup stood: You > Yunho > Hongjoong > Wooyoung

Jongho smirked, voice filled with teasing authority. “The fun thing about this is~ the first person—”

“Don’t worry about us,” Wooyoung cut in smoothly, waving a hand as if dismissing the rules entirely.

Jongho looked at him, tongue pushing against his cheek in disbelief, but eventually nodded. “Alright… suit yourselves.”

“We’ll do what we want,” Wooyoung said with a mischievous grin, turning to you. “Now drink up, Ynnie.”

You shot him a glare, shoving him lightly in the shoulder before raising the cup. Without a word, you tilted it back and took four large gulps, your throat burning with every swallow.

The table fell silent.

Then, without flinching, you stood up and handed the cup to Yunho like a queen passing down her crown.

The boys stared at you, wide-eyed.

“Holy sh—” San started, but cut himself off with a wheeze.

Yeosang blinked. “Did you… train for this?”

Even Jongho looked stunned. “That wasn’t four sips. That was four shots.”

You just wiped your lips, shrugged, and smiled. “Next.”

Wooyoung placed a hand over his heart, eyes dramatic and dreamy. “Someone hold me. I’m in love.”

Without missing a beat, you leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

His eyes flew open, stunned into silence as you pulled back with a playful smile and casually made your way back to Yeosang’s side. You slid in close, curling against him like nothing had happened.

Yeosang burst into laughter the moment he saw Wooyoung’s face—mouth slightly open, pupils wide, completely stuck.

“And YN is now cut!” Hongjoong announced like a referee, grinning as he pointed his chopsticks toward you. “Hurry, someone fill her bowl—keep her busy with food!”

“Yes, sir,” Yeosang said between laughs, already grabbing the nearest tongs and loading up your bowl with meat and banchan like he was on a mission.

“I second that,” Seonghwa added, sipping his drink calmly. “One more shot and she’s kissing me next.”

“Wouldn’t be the worst outcome,” you mumbled teasingly, earning a round of howls from the table.

San groaned, face still pink from alcohol. “I feel like I need to fight for my life at this dinner.”

Wooyoung finally snapped out of it, waving his hand dramatically. “She just stole my soul and you’re feeding her kimchi like that’s going to help?!”

Yeosang smirked, placing the chopsticks into your bowl with a flourish. “It might. She can’t kiss anyone if her mouth is full.”

“That hasn’t stopped her before,” Yunho murmured into his cup.

You choked on a laugh, smacking the table as the whole group roared again.

(THIS PART HAS BEEN CUT)

Your mouth watered the moment your eyes landed on the tteokgalbi and bibimbap. Yeosang was already ahead of you—bowl in hand, carefully piling a perfect balance of meat, rice, and veggies just the way you liked it.

“Here, baby,” he said, setting it in front of you.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice softer now, more grounded as the buzz started to fade.

Slowly, you were sobering up—your mind clearing, your limbs less loose. The light hum in your chest lingered, but the room had stopped spinning, and you felt deeply grateful that Hongjoong had stepped in earlier.

As you ate, you quietly admired the boys’ easy bickering and laughter, the way they bounced off each other so naturally.

“I wanted to do something while we’re all drinking,” Jongho announced suddenly. “All nine of us doing a drunk live.”

“Oh, a song?” Hongjoong asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Later,” Jongho replied with a mischievous grin.

Seonghwa smiled, shaking his head. “Let’s do it now! Why wait?”

Before anyone else could answer, San suddenly bellowed the opening lines of Wave at the top of his lungs.

You jumped, then laughed and quickly joined in.

“Just going on!” you sang along.

“On the way to the hot sun!” San shouted, voice cracking but full of energy.

Hongjoong looked around, a smile tugging at his lips. “Alright then—what song do you want to sing?”

Seonghwa, who had somehow managed to balance a spoon inside an empty soju bottle, spoke up with a grin, “Turbulence.”

Everyone nodded quickly, the choice unanimous.

You kept munching on your food, half-listening to Mingi’s voice as it carried through the room, but your eyes were drawn to Yunho who had already stood up. San practically shouted his part with full enthusiasm.

“By the rough wind, by the wounded heart,” Mingi sang softly, voice steady and clear.

You glanced at San and Wooyoung, now both fully engaged. Wooyoung had taken off his hoodie, sleeves rolled up, his voice soaring.

“As if the world only asks me to fall, only endless darkness!” Wooyoung sang, his voice raw, eyes closed like he was performing on a world stage.

You were still seated, chopsticks in hand mid-bite, when Seonghwa’s voice joined in, smooth and earnest. “At the end of this road, where should we be? What should we become, in what form?”

Jongho raised a spoon to his mouth like a mic, his face overly serious as he sang his part with mock intensity.

You just stared at them, overwhelmed by affection—by the pure joy and ridiculousness of it all. A smile slowly spread across your lips.

Then, suddenly, San grabbed your wrist and pulled you up with him. “Come on!” he laughed, dragging you to the front of the table.

You barely had time to react before he dropped to his knees, belting his lines with full dramatic flair. You burst into laughter, clapping your hands as he spun on the floor like a popstar in a music video.

Yunho’s voice cut in next, rich and steady. He stepped in behind you, gently turning you to face him as he placed a warm hand on your hip. With a soft smile, he began swaying you side to side with him in time to the music.

The room filled with off-key notes, laughter, clinking dishes, and warmth.

You looked around, your chest aching—in the best way—with how much you adored them.

The chaos felt like home. And your smile had never been wider.

“YN! Sing the high note!” someone shouted—probably San, but honestly, it could’ve been all of them at once.

You gasped, laughing as you grabbed the nearest “microphone” (a spoon, courtesy of Jongho), holding it dramatically in front of your mouth.

The boys fell silent, all eyes on you, and then—

You went for it.

The high note soared from your throat, not perfect but passionate—wobbly from the soju, steady from the joy. The second you hit it, the boys exploded in cheers and wild applause like you'd just won a singing competition.

“SHE DID IT!” Mingi shouted, practically jumping out of his chair.

“Main vocal, baby!” Yeosang laughed, clapping behind you.

“Forget the live—we’re debuting again with her in center!” Wooyoung yelled dramatically.

The rest of them joined in, voices overlapping as they belted out the final lines together, arms flung around each other and around you, no one quite on beat but absolutely in sync where it mattered.

The last note faded into the clatter of dishes and the soft buzz of laughter.

Your cheeks were flushed, your throat a little sore, but your heart—your heart was full.

#ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez #9th member of ateez #ateez 9th member #idol reader #ateez x idol reader #ateez scenarios #ateez x y/n #ateez ninth member #ateez addition #ateez extra member #ateez female addition #ateez female member #ateez extra member au #⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ wanteez ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

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glowup-princess · 6 months ago

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ʜᴏᴡ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴛᴜᴅʏ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʙʟᴀɪʀ ᴡᴀʟᴅᴏʀꜰ

1. Curate a Luxurious Study Environment

Choose a study space that feels sophisticated and clean. Think: a home library, a perfectly organized desk, or a favorite spot at a chic café.

Add luxury touches like scented candles, fresh flowers, and soft, ambient lighting. Blair would never settle for clutter!

2. Dress Like a Queen Bee

Elevate your look: Blair never slouches in sweats. Choose something stylish yet comfortable, like a cashmere sweater, tailored loungewear, or a polished blouse.

Accessorize with a headband, stud earrings, or a delicate necklace for an effortless, put-together vibe.

3. Create a Glamorous Study Kit

Invest in elegant stationery: monogrammed notebooks, gold or pastel pens, and highlighters that match your aesthetic.

Use a structured planner or journal to organize your day (bonus points for color-coded to-do lists).

4. Organize Tasks with Precision

Start by writing out a prioritized to-do list. Divide tasks into categories: "Must Do Today," "Can Wait," and "Bonus Goals."

Break larger projects into manageable sections with clear deadlines for each step.

5. Schedule Study Blocks

Use a time management method like the Pomodoro Technique (25 minutes of focused work, 5-minute breaks).

During study blocks, turn off distractions (silence your phone, close unnecessary tabs) and commit to full focus.

6. Use Blair-Worthy Study Techniques

Flashcards: Memorize concepts efficiently and quiz yourself.

Active Note-Taking: Rewrite your notes in a neat, organized manner, summarizing key points.

Study Groups: Engage in intellectual debates or discussions to solidify your understanding. If solo, practice explaining topics out loud.

7. Stay Energized with Elegant Snacks

Blair wouldn’t snack on junk food. Choose something light and upscale:

Green tea, sparkling water, or artisanal coffee.

A small bowl of mixed nuts, fresh fruit, or dark chocolate.

8. Refresh with Chic Breaks

Use breaks to pamper yourself or recharge:

Apply a hydrating face mask or spritz facial mist.

Do a quick yoga stretch or go for a short walk.

Play soft classical music or a calming playlist to reset.

9. Set Ambitious Yet Realistic Goals

Keep your eyes on the prize. Blair's motivator was visualizing success. Remember why you're working hard, whether it’s a test or a career goal.

Reward milestones: Treat yourself after completing major tasks, like indulging in an episode of your favorite show or a mini shopping spree.

10. End with Reflection and Gratitude

Review your accomplishments for the day. Check off completed tasks and organize any unfinished ones for tomorrow.

Tidy your study space to maintain a sense of order.

Wrap up with positive affirmations: "I am capable," or Blair's energy: "I’m the best, and I know it."

Take care of yourself <3

pt.2?

Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated <3

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lilmisssona · 6 months ago

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𐙚 ˚A ' Chris ' Mas Mayhem 𐙚 ˚

𐙚 ˚Pairing - Bang Chan × Fem Reader

𐙚 ˚Plot - YN returns to Seoul after three years, leaving behind her boyfriend for a work project, and finally gets transferred back just before Christmas. Excited to reunite, she decides to move into her boyfriend’s place, only to discover it isn’t his house at all. To make matters worse, she learns her Christmas gifts have been going to the wrong address all along—leading to an unexpected twist.

𐙚 ˚Genre - Angst, Hurt, Healing,Comedy, Fluff

𐙚 ˚Warnings - Hurt, betrayal, breakup, neighbor au, non Idol au, healing, comfort, Strangers to lovers

𐙚 ˚Word count - 8.7 K 𐙚 ˚ Screenshot Count - 2

𐙚 ˚A/N - Ahh! I'm so excited to share the first episode of Staymas! Dive into this fun mix of Christmas gifts, neighborly banter, and the spark of something deeper. This is just Slight proofread. So apologies for any mistakes 🙂‍↕️

𐙚 ˚SKZ Masterlist 𐙚 ˚Staymas Masterlist

It was a quiet winter afternoon in Seoul. The capital city, once blanketed in snow just weeks ago, had now settled into the crisp, dry embrace of December air.

The crunch of the remaining snow under your boots brought you back to the present as you stepped out of the taxi. You were home. After three years of relentless overtime, endless meetings, and the nonstop pace of Tokyo, you were finally back in Seoul. Back to the city you had always called home.

Your overseas transfer to Tokyo had been your first project as a lead. While life in Tokyo matched the speed and intensity of Seoul, you missed your home; and, more than anything, you missed your boyfriend, Chris Han.

You had just started dating Chris four years ago after a chance meeting at a club. He had been everything you could hope for: caring, attentive, and loving.

But things took a turn when you mentioned your transfer, barely a year into your relationship. He resisted the idea vehemently, arguing that long-distance relationships never worked. But this was your dream project, and you were determined.

Reluctantly, he agreed, and you left with tears in your eyes, clinging to the hope that distance would strengthen your bond.

At first, it did. Video calls became your lifeline, and you were grateful for his support despite the miles between you. Each Christmas, you went out of your way to send him thoughtful gifts: hand-knit sweaters, heartfelt letters, and cookies you baked yourself. You imagined him opening them, smiling, and feeling less alone.

But as time passed, the calls became less frequent, and the distance began to weigh on you. Yet, your heart remained steadfast, filled with love for Chris. Now that you were back, you couldn't wait to celebrate your first Christmas together in years.

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Standing in front of the apartment building, you took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing nerves. You had gone to great lengths to make this moment a reality, even renting an apartment in the same building as his, though he had no idea yet. This was meant to be a surprise, something special that would bring you closer in a way he wouldn’t expect.

Unbeknownst to him, you'd taken the opportunity to secure a place in the very same building, arranging everything during a video call with the tenant. You had even wired some advance money to her, securing the apartment without him ever suspecting a thing.

The elevator doors opened on your desired floor, and you stepped out, the faint hum of the building filling the quiet space around you. The tenant, the one you had finalized everything with, was waiting for you to complete the paperwork.

She smiled warmly, gesturing for you to come inside. As you hesitated in the hallway, your eyes darted nervously around, scanning for any familiar faces. You didn’t want to risk your boyfriend finding out about your arrival just yet, so you made sure to move cautiously, stepping inside and out of sight, ready to finalize this surprise and begin a new chapter.

You signed the last documents, handed over the remaining deposit, and took the keys to your new home. The apartment, though sparse, felt cozy and warm, just as it had seemed in the calls. After a quick shower, you put on the sweater Chris had once gifted you, applied light makeup, and prepared for the moment you’d been waiting for.

Clutching a box of homemade chocolate chip cookies, your heart pounded as you approached apartment 504- Chris's place. Smoothing your scarf, you knocked on the door, excitement bubbling inside you.

You pictured the scene perfectly: Chris opening the door, stunned, before pulling you into his arms with a cheesy line like, "I can't believe you're mine forever now." The two of you would share cookies, cuddle, and watch movies like you used to. It was the perfect surprise.

But when the door opened, it wasn’t Chris who greeted you....

“Uh, hi?” The man at the door blinked at you, clearly confused. He was tall, with soft, dark hair that framed his strikingly sharp features. He looked effortlessly attractive, dressed in casual sweatpants and a hoodie, as if he’d just stepped out of a photoshoot.

You froze, your brain scrambling to make sense of the situation.

“Is Chris here?” you asked hesitantly.

The man tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah… Who’s asking?”

“I’m Y/N, his girlfriend,” you replied nervously. “He lives here, right? Apartment 504?”

The man blinked at you, his confusion deepening. “M-My girlfriend? Sorry, but… do I know you?”

Your stomach tightened in a knot as you stared at him. Maybe Chris Han hadn’t told his friends about your relationship. Or maybe this guy was some distant relative visiting. But wait, he said “My girlfriend?” That didn’t make any sense, you thought. Chris Han was your boyfriend, not this stranger standing in front of you with a perplexed look on his face.

The silence between you both was deafening as you locked eyes. You couldn’t help but admire his features again. This guy was effortlessly handsome in a way that felt almost unfair. His eyes glinted with amusement as he studied you just as you did him. His skin, with a warm golden undertone, glowed faintly in the soft light spilling from the apartment. His jawline was sharp and defined, like a sculptor’s dream, and his high cheekbones gave his face an almost regal quality.

The air hung thick, suffocating in its silence. Yet, you couldn’t tear your gaze away from him, just as he couldn’t from you. It felt like something needed to break the tension before you’d be trapped in this awkward loop forever.

“Yo, Chris?” a voice called from inside. “What’s got you so caught up?”

The stranger snapped out of his thoughts and suddenly burst into laughter. Embarrassed by the situation, you stepped back, ready to leave.

“Wait, wait,” he said, holding up a hand to stop you. “You think I’m your boyfriend?” He grinned, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Hate to break it to you, but I’m not. I’m Chris Bang. And unless I’ve somehow gotten into a relationship I didn’t know about, I think you’ve got the wrong guy.”

Your cheeks burned red with embarrassment. “What?! But… this is apartment 504! Doesn’t Chris live here?”

“Yeah,” Chris Bang said, nodding. “That’s me. Chris Bang. Single. Not your boyfriend.”

The realization hit you like a freight train. “Oh my god,” you mumbled, backing away. “I… this is so...this is a mistake. I’m so sorry!”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Chris called after you, laughing as you turned to flee. “Don’t run away yet! I want to know how this happened. Did you just knock on the wrong door, or did your boyfriend ghost you and give you my address instead?”

You whipped back around, glaring at him. “He did not ghost me! I—” You froze in confusion. Wait. If this wasn’t Chris Han’s apartment, then where…?

Chris Bang watched as the realization painfully dawned on you. “Wait… are you the new neighbor who moved into apartment 404?”

“Yeah,” you muttered, your voice filled with regret. “Apparently, across from you.”

“Well, this is going to be fun,” Chris said, clearly enjoying your humiliation. Before you could respond, the elevator dinged down the hall, and a door opened just a floor above yours. Stepping out of apartment 604 was Chris Han—your boyfriend.

A wave of relief washed over your face. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach again as you watched him approach the elevator. “Babe!” you called out, waving, while simultaneously giving your new namesake neighbor an apology. Chris Bang just smiled and waved it off, closing the door behind him.

“Chris, babe!” you called again, louder this time. At the sound of your voice, Chris Han looked down, his eyes widening in surprise as they landed on you.

“Y/N?” Chris Han called out, his voice thick with confusion. His steps were hesitant as he descended the stairs toward you.

“Chris, babe, surprise!” Your smile widened as he stepped closer to you. You opened your arms, eager to embrace him, hoping he’d pull you into his warm, comforting hug. But he didn’t. Instead of the excitement you’d expected, his gaze remained distant—cold, even. “You’re here?” he asked, his voice stiff. “When did you come back?”

“Just this morning! I wanted to surprise you!” you chirped, trying to break the palpable tension. “And guess what? I even rented an apartment here. So we’re neighbors now!” You pointed toward your apartment door with a nervous smile. “Maybe just a floor apart,” you added, awkwardly scratching your head.

“You rented… an apartment? Here?” Chris’s voice was flat, lacking the warmth you had expected.

“Yeah,” you said softly, feeling your heart sink. “I missed you, Chris. Three years is a long time, and I thought… Well, I thought it was time for us to be close again.”

“And this thought occurred to you… after three years?” Chris’s gaze was sharp, colder than you had ever seen it, and it hit you like a physical blow to the chest.

“Well, the project finally wrapped up, and now I’m back...to you. Won’t you welcome me?” Though your voice lacked some of the earlier enthusiasm, there was still hope in your words.

“You know what? Let’s talk inside.” Chris sighed heavily. “It doesn’t feel right to say this in a public space.” Nodding, you followed him upstairs, your chest tightening with each step.

-----------------------------------------------------

You stepped into Chris’s apartment, quickly glancing around. The place was neat, but it felt cold, uninviting. It wasn’t the home you had envisioned for the two of you. It looked more like a temporary crash pad than a place filled with warmth and love. There wasn’t a single Christmas decoration in sight, not even with Christmas Eve just two days away. The only decoration was a solitary string of fairy lights on a corner shelf.

“Oh, you didn’t decorate for Christmas?” you asked, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice. Chris shrugged. “Haven’t had the time. Last-minute work before the holidays has been crazy.”

“Maybe we can decorate it together?” you suggested, forcing a smile.

Chris let out a long, weary sigh before turning back to you. “Look, Y/N, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this, but it didn’t feel right to say it over the phone. Now that you’re here, I think it’s best we just move on.” He paused. “From us.”

You stared at him, stunned. “So… you’re breaking up with me? Two days before our anniversary? After three years of making it work long distance?” Your voice cracked with rage as you glared at him.

He hesitated again, his voice soft but sharp, like daggers to your heart. “Look, Y/N, I’m really sorry, but I think… maybe we’ve been holding on to something that’s not really there anymore. I’m sorry, but… this… us… it can’t work anymore.”

The ground beneath you shook violently as you absorbed the words spilling from Chris’s mouth. Everything you had planned, everything you had believed, crumbled in an instant. After a long stretch of silence, you exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding back.

Chris stared at you, uncertain, hesitant about what to say next.

"I thought you loved me..." you whispered, your voice trembling, barely audible over the pounding of your heart. Chris stood before you, his gaze fixed on the floor, unable to meet your eyes. The silence between you was suffocating, each second stretching endlessly.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen like this,” he finally said, his voice low and thick with regret. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You stood there, frozen in place, the words echoing in your mind like a cruel mockery. The sting of betrayal tightened in your chest, making it hard to breathe. Your hands clenched at your sides as you fought back the tears threatening to spill.

Finally, a bitter laugh escaped your lips, cold and sharp like shattered glass. “Thank you, Chris. Thank you for ruining everything.” Your voice broke, and your chest ached from the weight of your own words. You took a shaky step back, your vision blurring.

You added, with venom laced in your tone, “Merry fucking Christmas.”

Without waiting for a response, you turned and walked back toward your apartment. As you passed Chris Bang’s door, it suddenly opened, startling you. He looked at you with an expression mixed with concern and curiosity.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice softer this time.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you pushed past him and into your own apartment. The warmth that had once filled the space now felt distant, as if the walls were closing in on you. The contrast between how it had felt just an hour ago and the suffocating coldness now was striking. Closing the door behind you, you sank to the floor, beside the doorframe, tears streaming down your face.

----------------------------------------------------

December 24th

Two days later, it was Christmas Eve. You hadn’t yet moved on from that painful conversation with Chris. Determined to fix things, you decided to meet him later. One awkward conversation wasn’t going to be the end of everything. Maybe you could work through it. Maybe everything would be okay after this.

You hit send on the message, asking him to meet you at 8 in the evening at his favorite restaurant. He agreed, and you smiled at your phone, slipping it back into your pocket.

Since you were meeting him at 8,three hours after your shift ended, you decided to treat yourself to a little coffee at the cozy cafe beside your new apartment. It wasn’t long before you were settled inside, the warmth inside a welcome contrast to the biting winter wind outside. Ordering a cappuccino, you took a seat by the window, sipping your drink as you stared out at the wind-whipped scene.

Not long after, something caught your eye. Across the cafe, a familiar silhouette of a man and a woman sat at a table just a little farther away. You squinted, just to be sure.

And there he was—Chris Han—feeding an unknown woman a piece of cake. The woman, with long brown hair, blushed and laughed at something Chris must have said. They looked so comfortable with each other, so intimate, and Chris smiled at her with the same warmth he used to smile at you three years ago. And then they kissed.

Kissed ?!!

A sharp pang of betrayal struck your gut. Your mouth hung open in shock. Rage boiled inside you, and before you could stop it, your legs carried you over to their table.

"So this is why you decided to move on, huh?" you called, standing at the edge of their table.

"Y/N?!" Chris exclaimed, clearly caught off guard. "What are you doing here?"

"Me?" you scoffed. "Oh, I don’t know, maybe I’m just waiting to meet my boyfriend after his shift to fix things."

"And look what I find! He’s here all along, kissing and feeding cake to another woman, like the past three years meant nothing to you." Your voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Chris, who is this?" The woman looked awkwardly between the two of you.

Chris sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Y/N, now’s not the time."

"Not the time?" you trembled. "So, this is why you said ‘it’s not going to work,’ is it?"

"You were cheating on me all along, and now that I’m back, you’re too scared to admit it. So, you fake this 'it’s not going to work' nonsense!"

"This is the reason I told you long-distance doesn’t work for me, Y/N. But you didn’t listen to me back then!" Chris shot back.

"Our relationship meant nothing to you, did it? I was just a fool, believing our love was still alive!" you spat bitterly.

Chris sighed again, looking at you with something that resembled pity. "I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t want it to happen like this, but… I’ve moved on. " " I told you my answer remains the same"

"Unbelievable!" you blinked back tears, refusing to let him see you cry. "I hope she’s worth it," you said coldly, turning on your heel and storming out of the cafe.

You clung to your jacket as you waited for the elevator, feeling the weight of the evening pressing on you. It was uncomfortably cold in the lobby. Maybe it was because of what had just happened—that the warmth and hope you once carried for a fresh start had been snuffed out, leaving you broken and alone.

Just as you were about to step into the elevator, a voice called out, "Hey, wait for me!" You looked up to see Chris Bang rushing toward the elevator. Quickly, you wedged your hand between the doors to stop them from closing as he hopped in.

"Thank you," he panted, taking deep breaths to steady himself after running. You nodded, acknowledging him silently. You just wanted to be alone, but the elevator seemed to take forever to reach your floor. The tears you’d been holding back threatened to spill as you replayed everything that had happened. Was it your fault? Could you have prevented it? If you hadn’t taken on the new project, if you hadn’t been transferred… maybe this wouldn’t have happened...

These thoughts clouded your mind as the elevator slowly ascended. When it finally reached your floor, you stepped out, your head still in a daze.

"YN, is it?" Chris suddenly asked. You nodded, barely meeting his gaze.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

You realized you must look like a mess,your mascara smudged, your hair disheveled, your eyes red from holding back tears. You sighed and gave a shaky laugh. "Not really."

Chris tilted his head, his sharp features softening. "Wanna talk about it? I’ve got cookies, and I promise I don’t feed cake to random people in cafes." He smiled, his warmth surprising you.

You blinked, taken aback. How did he know? But he wasn’t teasing you. There was no smug grin or sarcastic quip, just sincerity.

"Cookies?" you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper.

Chris smiled, a soft, lopsided grin that felt genuine. "Yeah, cookies. And hot chocolate. The perfect cure for whatever mess you just walked away from."

----------------------------------------------------

If this had happened on any other day, you would’ve brushed him off and retreated to your apartment to cry in solitude. But something about the warmth in Chris's expression, the absence of judgment, just pure sincerity, made you pause and truly look at him. Maybe it was because it was Christmas Eve, or maybe it was the way his dark oceanic eyes and his sincere smile spread warmth inside you. You sighed, quickly wiping your eyes. "You know what? Sure. Why not."

You motioned for him to lead the way as he opened the door to his apartment. Reluctantly, you stepped inside after he gestured you in. Despite your lingering embarrassment, curiosity got the better of you as you glanced around.

The apartment was cozy, though not overly decorated. It was minimalist at best. A single gray couch sat in the living room, with two plush cushions resting on it. In front of it was a wooden coffee table with what looked like an empty mug of coffee. Yet there was a festive vibe in the room: small fairy lights twinkled around the window and shelves, and a medium-sized Christmas tree stood in the corner, neatly decorated with baubles and stockings. It felt inviting, almost like home.

You awkwardly sank into the gray couch and waited for him, as Chris disappeared behind the kitchen counter for a few moments, telling you to make yourself comfortable.

The scent of vanilla and chocolate soon filled your nostrils, making your stomach rumble. You hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast; the last-minute workload had kept you too busy. Save for a couple of sips of cappuccino at the café, you hadn’t had solid food all day. You hadn’t even realized how hungry you were until Chris placed a plate of cookies and a cup of hot chocolate in front of you. Your mouth watered at the sight.

"There you go, YN," Chris smiled, handing you the cup of hot chocolate he’d made. "Please, help yourself."

"Thank you," you muttered, taking a sip. The sweetness of the hot chocolate melted away the bitterness in your heart, filling you with warmth. “Hmm, it’s so good,” you sighed in satisfaction.

“It sure is,” Chris hummed, settling beside you on the couch.

"So..." Chris leaned back, studying you carefully. "If you’re comfortable sharing... is it boyfriend trouble, or...?"

"More like ex-boyfriend trouble now," you interjected, a bitter laugh escaping your lips.

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt.

"Actually, we met four years ago. A year later, I had to leave Seoul for a project in Tokyo. I had to lead a new company project."

"He didn’t want to do long distance. It led to a lot of disagreements, but somehow, we agreed to give it a shot. But when I came back two days ago, he didn’t seem too happy about it." You paused. "He told me it wasn’t working anymore..." You looked away, trying to hide the tears that were threatening to fall. "I thought our love could withstand the distance, but I guess I was wrong."

"And today, you saw him with someone else, right?" Chris asked gently.

You whipped your head back toward him, stunned. "H..How’d you know?"

"It’s the only café in the neighborhood. I was there for my daily coffee and happened to witness it," he said, glancing at you with an apologetic look. "I’m sorry if I intruded on your space."

Your cheeks burned in embarrassment, but somehow, you still wanted to keep talking. "Yeah, that’s how I became single on Christmas Eve," you said wistfully, a small smile forming on your lips.

"That’s rough. I’m so sorry," Chris winced.

"Yeah, I was an idiot for holding onto it for three years," you said with a bittersweet smile. "Maybe I shouldn’t have taken the transfer. Maybe things would have been different. Maybe we wouldn’t have broken up..."

"YN," Chris said softly, turning you to face him. "Look at me."

You met his eyes, and he continued, "I know, for what it’s worth, that it’s not your fault. That Chris Han... he can go screw himself for letting go of someone like you."

His words caught you off guard. "Now, aren’t you going a little too far ahead of yourself?" you replied with a half-laugh, half-smile. "You barely know me, Mister. How can you say that?"

"I know for a fact, YN," he said, his voice calm and sincere. "I know how much you loved him, and how unappreciative he was. I know he didn’t care about you." "For what it’s worth, from my two cents as your new neighbor, I believe you deserve so much better. Way more, YN," Chris smiled at you.

"How do you know, for a 'fact'that I loved him?" you asked, half-smiling, half-curious.

"Because of all the love you poured into those gifts you sent..." he smirked.

"Gifts?" you asked, confused.

Chris nervously scratched his head, realizing he may have said more than he intended. You raised an eyebrow, and that’s when it clicked.

"Don’t tell me..." you gasped.

"Promise me you won’t be mad, YN?" Chris smiled sheepishly.

You gave him a stern look as he got up and pulled a cardboard box from the cupboard. Inside were neatly wrapped packages with handmade bows, festive papers, and labels that read: "To Chris, Merry Christmas Love, YN."

You stared at him, stunned. "Chris Bang! Why?" you glared at him. "You promised me you wouldn’t be mad!" he nervously chuckled.

"How can I not be mad when you’re literally stealing my ex’s gifts?" you protested. "For the past three years, you’ve been stealing them, and you didn’t even think to check if they were yours or not!"

He just silently stared at you, nonchalantly, as if this was the most normal thing in the world. His boyish grin didn’t help either. In fact, it made this bizarre turn even harder to comprehend.

"Let me get this straight," you said, holding onto the edge of the couch to steady yourself as you leaned back. "You’re telling me that for the past three years, you’ve been getting the Christmas presents I meant to send to my ex? And instead of, I don’t know, returning them, you just... kept them?"

Chris rubbed the back of his neck, his expression somewhere between amused and sheepish. "I mean, technically, yeah. But in my defense, your handwriting on the shipping label was pretty bad. It just said ‘Chris,’ no last name, and my address."

Your mouth hung open. "Now you’re blaming my handwriting for this?"

"Not entirely," he admitted, his grin widening. "I figured it out eventually, probably by the second gift. But by then... well, I didn’t have the heart to send them back. Plus, they were really thoughtful gifts. And I thought, hey, maybe the universe just wanted me to have them."

You gaped at him, caught between disbelief and reluctant amusement. "The universe wanted you to have my ex’s gifts?"

"Okay, when you put it like that, it sounds pretty creepy," he laughed lightly. "But come on....who wouldn’t keep the presents? It’s Christmas!"

"Unbelievable," you scoffed. "Maybe this is the reason Chris Han broke up with me... He didn’t get my special handmade gifts, thanks to a certain gift thief..."

Chris laughed, clearly enjoying your reaction. "Hey, don’t be too mad. You kind of made my Christmases a lot less lonely. I mean, who wouldn’t love surprise presents from a stranger? It’s like I had a secret admirer."

"I wasn’t your admirer, Chris," you snapped back, your face flushed with embarrassment.

"Well, technically, you were, even if you didn’t intend to," he chuckled. "But seriously, thank you for the gifts every year, YN. The handmade cookies, the blue scarf, the mugs, and that beautiful coat you sent really made me feel at home. I wore them all winter and used the mug every day."

"Don’t tell me you read the letters too..." you groaned, burying your face in your hands.

"I did, YN," he said softly. "And they just gave me a sense of fulfillment, a sense of not being alone... like someone was with me."

"Thank you for making my Christmases unintentionally," he added with a huge grin, his eyes shining. A smile so sincere it made your stomach do flips, and your cheeks turn a shade of red you couldn’t explain. What was happening to you? It was too early to be swooning over a guy you just met. Or maybe it was because his hand brushed against you for a second?

"And even if you think that gifting those things to Chris Han would’ve made things better," Chris continued, looking at you seriously, "I believe you’ve got a lot to learn before dating guys who cheat behind your back."

"Backstabbers will always be the same, YN. Even if you think they’ve changed, they won’t."

At his sincere confession, you looked at him, realizing he was right. Chris Han was an utter POS.

You laughed, genuinely, and even surprised yourself. "Oh, and I suppose you think you set the bar higher?"

He grinned, leaning back and resting his arm on the back of the couch. "I mean, I’ve been told I’m a decent neighbor."

You rolled your eyes. "Yep, a decent neighbor who steals other people’s gifts” you smirk

"Flattery won't save you, you know..." you laughed, your voice light but teasing.

"Wasn't trying to save myself either," he replied, leaning back casually against the couch with a carefree smile. "Just telling the truth."

You busied yourself nibbling on another cookie, pretending to focus on the snack while trying to ignore the warmth spreading across your cheeks. "Okay, Chris," you said, your lips quirking into a small but genuine smile, the playful banter making you feel oddly at ease.

Suddenly, an idea popped into your head, making your smile widen mischievously. "As an apology, why don't you bake me these delicious cookies and hot chocolate every day until New Year's?" you suggested, raising an eyebrow, your voice playful yet sincere.

"Sounds like a deal, YN," he replied with a grin, his eyes twinkling.

"But before that," you added, a hint of mischief in your voice, "how about you close your eyes for just a couple of seconds?" You could see the flicker of curiosity in his expression, and you couldn't help but smile.

Chris raised an eyebrow. "Now, if you're trying to kidnap or murder me, I can, you know..." you said, throwing a couple of playful air punches in the air as you chuckled, enjoying the light-hearted moment.

"Wasn't tryin' to do that, but thanks for telling me anyway," he laughed, shaking his head, clearly entertained by your antics.

Something soft was placed in your hand, and after a brief moment of waiting, you slowly opened your eyes. To your surprise, there was a small gift bag resting in your palm. You raised an eyebrow, your mind racing with confusion and curiosity.

"You're returning the wrong Chris' gifts?" you asked him, half-joking, half-puzzled.

A smirk curled onto his lips as he leaned forward slightly. "More like giving you one," he replied, his voice filled with a touch of mystery.

Just as you were about to respond, the clock in the room struck twelve with a soft chime, followed by the cheerful cuckoo bird popping out and singing its song. The atmosphere felt like it belonged in a holiday movie, warm and comforting.

"Merry Christmas, YN," Chris grinned at you, his smile wide and sincere.

"Merry Christmas, Chris," you replied with a smile that felt more real than anything you'd said in a while. It was a moment that you wanted to hold onto, even if it was fleeting.

"And what's this?" you asked, nodding toward the gift bag, still trying to figure out the meaning behind it.

"This?" He held it up between his hands, looking down at it with a gentle expression. "This one’s for you."

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you took a closer look at the bag. "For me? Why?" you asked, your voice laced with curiosity.

"I figured out two days ago that you're the one who's been sending me the gifts for the past three years..." He paused for a second, his eyes softening, as though the weight of the moment was sinking in.

"Consider it my way of saying thank you—for three years of accidentally making my Christmases a lot less lonely," he said, his tone sincere but tinged with something that made your heart ache slightly.

"Lonely?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, the word lingering in the air. This was the second time he had mentioned his loneliness in the conversation, and it made you wonder about the deeper layers of his feelings.

For just a fraction of a second, his smile faltered, and you noticed his gaze shift as if lost in thought. The change was so brief, but you could tell there was something he wasn’t saying.

"Australia is my real home," he said quietly, his voice distant. "And I'm settled in Seoul now for work. I miss my family, my sister, my brother, and my dog, Berry, so much. Christmas is when I miss them the most, but it is what it is..." His words trailed off, and there was an unspoken weight behind them, something raw that he hadn’t fully expressed.

Your chest tightened unexpectedly. There was something in his tone, something guarded, like he didn't want to reveal too much. You didn’t press, giving him the space he needed, and the silence between you both was comforting, almost as if you both understood what the other was feeling.

Wanting to change the subject and give him a bit of relief, you spoke softly, "Okay, let’s see what you’ve got."

He handed over the bag, and as your fingers brushed briefly against his, you ignored the flicker of warmth that spread up your arm. You focused on the bag in your hands, pulling out the tissue paper with careful movements. When you revealed the contents, your breath caught in your throat: it was a beautiful bag in your favorite color - blush pink. The sight of it made your heart skip a beat.

"Chris, how do you know?" you asked in surprise, your voice a mix of awe and wonder.

He shrugged casually, his grin widening. "I may have done some detective work," he said, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "One of your letters mentioned the bag color," he added with a wink. "Thought it might mean something to you..."

You stared at the bag, your fingers gently brushing over the smooth, polished handle. It was a stunning blush pink crossbody bag, perfectly suited for going out to dinner nights or for the holidays. It was exactly the type of bag you’d been admiring for months, and yet, you’d never mentioned it to him.

Of all the gifts you’d sent in the past three years, none had ever felt this thoughtful or this personal. It was as if he truly understood you in a way you hadn't even realized.

"Wow," you murmured, your voice a little breathless. You looked up at him, your smile widening with genuine appreciation. "That’s... actually really beautiful and sweet."

A wide grin spread across his face as he leaned back a little, clearly pleased with your reaction. "Sweet enough to make up for the whole 'stealing your ex’s gifts’ thing?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with teasing amusement.

You laughed, shaking your head in disbelief. "Not even close," you said, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "But it’s a start."

As the night continued, you felt the weight in your chest slowly lighten. You weren't ready to move on yet, but sitting there, sharing cookies and banter with your neighbor Chris, felt like a step in the right direction. The conversation flowed effortlessly from there, transitioning from light teasing to stories about each other’s lives. Chris had a way of making you laugh, even when you felt like crying. By the time you left his apartment, you realized you were looking forward to seeing him again, something you hadn't expected just a few days ago.

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The Next Day

You giggled at his texts, the warmth of his words making you feel unexpectedly lighter.

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The days following Christmas blurred into a whirlwind of family gatherings, catching up on work, and the bittersweet calm that often followed the holiday rush. Yet amidst the festive cheer and the soft lull of post-holiday routine, there was a lingering ache—the heartbreak Chris Han had left behind. It was a quiet, constant presence, one that refused to be ignored despite your attempts to distract yourself. Happy couples strolling hand in hand, cheerful holiday music playing in every store, and glowing lights in every window served as unwelcome reminders of what you had lost.

But then there was Chris Bang, your accidental neighbor and self-proclaimed Christmas gift stealer. Against all odds, he became the unintentional solace you hadn’t realized you needed. He had a knack for showing up at just the right time: bumping into you in the hallway with a witty comment about your landlord’s questionable taste in decorations or surprising you with coffee and cookies when your day felt particularly heavy. "Caffeine and cookies cure everything," he’d say with that mischievous grin that never failed to draw a reluctant smile from you.

One day, when you were especially weighed down by the sight of happy couples and the ache in your chest seemed heavier than ever, Chris knocked on your door, insisting you come with him to the fair. At first, you refused, wrapped in your own melancholy, but his persistence wore you down. And so, hours later, you found yourself laughing in the crisp winter air, your hands full of hot cocoa as Chris tried, and failed,repeatedly to win you a plush teddy bear from a claw machine. You teased him mercilessly for his lack of skill, and his mock frustration only made you laugh harder. The ache in your chest lightened, and for the first time in days, you felt like yourself again.

He never left your side, even as work got busier and the New Year dawned. Whether it was a simple message, a casual phone call, or a surprise invitation to take a walk in the park when the sun came out, he made sure to check in, offering little moments of comfort when you needed it most.

With time, you learned more about the man who had unexpectedly found his way into your life. He told you about growing up in Australia, how Seoul had never been part of his plan until his online friends Jisung and Changbin lured him here with the promise of his dream job as a music producer, so he moved across the world. How he had an impressive art collection from his best friend Hyunjin, an artist he was incredibly proud of, and how he’d used the holidays to stay in and unwind from a stressful year. He’d been surprisingly open, sharing details of his life that he usually kept close to his chest.

For your part, you had shared a lot with Chris, your work, your best friends (who were instantly curious about him), and how your parents had been gently pushing you to settle down, despite the fact that you were struggling to imagine your life on anyone else’s timeline. You were beginning to realize how much you enjoyed these quiet, meaningful conversations with him, especially considering how effortlessly everything seemed to flow. Even the things you thought might make you feel vulnerable, you found yourself talking about with surprising ease.

Chris, in turn, had opened up more about his family life. He talked about the playful dynamic he shared with his sister, how they loved to tease each other and how he cherished the annual trips back home to visit. He shared stories about his dog, Berry, whom he missed dearly. There were other little details too, how much he had been adapting to life in Seoul and the adjustment from his home in Australia. Each time he shared something new, you found yourself appreciating him more, and the more you learned about him, the deeper your connection seemed to grow.

You shared your hesitations, your dreams, and the small quirks that made you who you were. It felt natural, easy, even the things that had once felt like guarded secrets seemed safe with him.

And Chris listened, truly listened. He never rushed you or offered hollow reassurances. Instead, he met you where you were, matching your vulnerability with his own. Slowly but surely, the cracks in your heart began to mend, and in their place, something new and unexpected began to grow.

Each shared moment, each quiet laugh, and each tender look made you realize just how much Chris had come to mean to you. The heartbreak that had once defined your days began to fade, replaced by the warmth of his presence...

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As December 2024 arrived, you found yourself surprised at how quickly the year had passed. It was as if time had slipped through your fingers, leaving you wondering how the months had gone by in a blur. Despite a rocky beginning to the year, one thing was clear, Chris Bang had been a steady and reassuring presence in your life, his bad jokes, comforting smile, and unassuming nature making 2024 a lot more bearable than 2023. And now, every time he spoke, you found yourself struck by how his voice, that familiar warmth, could make your heart flutter in a way you hadn’t expected. His smile, his presence,it was beginning to feel like something more than just a friendship, something you weren’t sure how to define yet.

So, when Chris invited you over for his Christmas Eve gathering, you decided to go all in. You wanted to make this night special, just as much for him as for you. You crocheted him a sweater, carefully stitching his initials into the fabric. You baked cookies, filling your kitchen with their delicious scent, and chose a red dress that made you feel both confident and beautiful. As the evening approached, your nerves kicked in, the anticipation of seeing him making your heart race.

When you finally arrived at his door, you knocked lightly, trying to calm the fluttering feeling in your chest. The door opened quickly, and to your surprise, it wasn’t Chris standing there. Instead, it was his friend Han Jisung, whom you’d met briefly a few months ago. His bright smile was instantly familiar, putting you at ease.

"Hey, YN!" Jisung greeted warmly. "Come on in!" he added, stepping aside to let you enter. You walked inside, immediately feeling the cozy Christmas atmosphere. The living room was stunning, with a large tree in the center, its lights twinkling softly against the backdrop of garlands and ornaments. It felt so festive, and for a moment, you forgot about the nerves that had plagued you moments ago.

Chris and his friends were in the middle of a lively conversation when you stepped into the room. But the moment Chris saw you, everything else seemed to fade away. He froze for just a moment, mid-sentence, his eyes wide as they locked onto you. The effect you had on him was immediate, and you couldn’t help but feel a rush of warmth in your chest.

You were standing there in your red gown, your hair styled in soft beachy waves that cascaded down to your shoulders. The sight of him standing there, visibly taken aback, made your cheeks flush with warmth. You couldn't help but smile shyly, and when you caught his gaze, his expression softened, his lips parting as if searching for words.

"Hyung!" someone called out, a playful voice that broke the moment. You turned to see a big, muscular guy, probably Changbin, giving Chris a teasing look. "A fly will enter if you don’t close your mouth."

Chris's face immediately turned a shade of red that matched your dress, and he shot a mock glare at Changbin. The others burst into laughter, but Chris quickly composed himself, a sheepish grin replacing his flustered look. "Welcome, YN," he said, his voice warm and inviting. He gestured for you to sit next to him on the couch, his eyes still lingering on you with a mixture of admiration and affection.

You nodded shyly and walked over to the couch, your heart racing as you sat beside him. But as soon as you did, the teasing began. The others couldn't resist. "Ooooooh!" they shouted in unison, their voices full of playful mischief.

You and Chris both erupted into giggles, trying to stifle your laughter. It was clear that no matter how much you both tried to pretend otherwise, the chemistry between you was undeniable. As the teasing continued, you both found comfort in the easy banter, laughing together until the weight of everything else seemed to disappear.

The night unfolded like a beautiful dream, with the flickering lights of the Christmas tree casting a soft glow over the cozy room. Laughter echoed through the space, mixing with the gentle hum of conversations and the clink of glasses. You were surrounded by the warmth of good friends, but there was something about the way Chris's presence seemed to fill every corner of the room, making everything feel just a little brighter. Of course, his ever-present humor kept the atmosphere light, and his jokes, though admittedly cheesy, had everyone laughing, including you.

"Do you know this man right here is a Christmas gift stealer?" you said, pointing toward Chris with a playful grin, recounting the story of how you met him to the group.

"No way!" Hyunjin exclaimed, his eyes wide with surprise as he absorbed the details of the story.

“We thought you were the new neighbor, and that’s how he met you,” Changbin added with a teasing tone, looking at Chris as if he’d just discovered some hidden truth about him.

“I had better expectations of you, man,” Jisung laughed. “But you’re no different than the rest of us.”

Chris sighed dramatically, playing along with the teasing. “Hey, in my defense,” he said, lifting his hands in mock surrender. “How was I supposed to know that gift wasn’t meant for me? It said ‘Dear Chris, love YN’ with my address on it. I thought the universe had decided to bless me with early Christmas gifts.”

The entire room erupted in laughter, some of the guys doubled over, clutching their stomachs. Chris sat back in his chair, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, his dimples making an appearance as his signature smile spread across his face.

“You guys act like I planned it,” Chris protested, though his playful tone made it clear he was enjoying the moment. “It’s not my fault the universe decided to shower me with gifts every Christmas.”

“Free gifts?” you raised an eyebrow, not letting him off the hook that easily. “You’re lucky I didn’t press charges for theft, Christopher Bang!”

The room burst into another wave of laughter, the sound so infectious it had you all grinning ear to ear. Chris shook his head, chuckling. “Alright, alright,” he said, holding up his hands in a gesture of defeat. “But those gifts were too nice to ignore. I figured I must have been extra good that year.”

Hyunjin leaned forward, a playful glint in his eyes. “Or maybe someone was really in love with you and you didn’t even know it.”

Chris’s cheeks immediately turned a shade of pink, and he hastily averted his gaze to the floor, mumbling something incoherent. The group caught on to his sudden shyness and burst out with a loud, collective “Ooooooh!”

“Wait a second,” Jisung interjected with a raised eyebrow, now eyeing Chris in mock disbelief. “So you’ve been using scarves, mugs, and all those gifts knowing full well they weren’t even yours?”

Chris’s grin widened mischievously. “Hey, they came with my name on them. Technically, they were mine.”

Changbin leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, looking at Chris as if he were a detective revealing a crucial piece of evidence. “You’re lucky YN didn’t track you down sooner. This could have turned into one of those true crime documentaries where the victim is the ‘mystery gift giver.’”

You shook your head, chuckling softly at the thought. “Trust me, I almost did. But now, I’m starting to think the universe had its reasons.”

For a moment, the laughter died down, and the room grew quieter as your eyes met Chris’s. There was something in his gaze, something softer than the playful teasing that had filled the air just moments before. The noise of the room seemed to fade, and all you could hear was the rhythmic beat of your own heart. His smile remained, but there was a depth to it now, a quiet understanding that seemed to bridge the gap between you. It felt like the world was holding its breath as you shared a moment that was just for the two of you.

As the clock inched closer to midnight, the lively chatter in the room began to fade, replaced by the soft hum of smaller conversations and the gentle melodies of Christmas tunes playing in the background. The festive atmosphere lingered, cozy and comforting, as the glow of the Christmas tree bathed the room in warm, golden light.

You found yourself nestled beside Chris on the couch, a glass of wine cradled in your hand. He seemed relaxed, his attention caught by a show playing softly on the TV. But your focus was elsewhere, on the small, carefully wrapped package resting in your lap.

Gathering your courage, you turned to him and gently nudged his arm. "Here," you said, offering him the gift with a shy smile.

Chris’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as he looked down at the neatly wrapped present in your hands. "For me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Or did you forget the right address again?"

You laughed, rolling your eyes at his teasing. “Shut up and open it!”

As the paper fell away, his face lit up with genuine delight. Nestled inside was a periwinkle sweater, his initials lovingly stitched into the fabric, alongside a neatly arranged box of homemade cookies. His grin widened as he looked between the gift and you, his eyes sparkling with warmth.

"You made this?" he asked, his voice soft with wonder.

You nodded, biting your lip nervously. "I did. Took me a while, but... I wanted it to be special."

Chris held up the sweater, admiring the intricate detail, before carefully setting it aside along with the cookies. His gaze returned to you, his smile softer now, almost reverent.

Chris carefully set the sweater and cookies aside, his attention fully on you. He leaned in slightly, his voice lowering, as if the room around you had faded away and there was only the two of you left in this quiet, intimate space. “YNnie,” he whispered, the nickname he had given you rolling off his tongue with such warmth that it sent a shiver down your spine, “I don’t think you realize how much you’ve changed my life this past year.”

You blinked, your heart suddenly racing in your chest, caught off guard by the weight of his words. “Me?”

Chris nodded, his hand moving gently to brush a loose strand of hair from your face, his touch tender and almost reverent. “When I met you, I thought it was just some funny coincidence, a mix-up that led to free gifts and good laughs. But you... you turned out to be so much more than that. You’re thoughtful, kind, ridiculously talented, and you've made this year brighter in ways I can’t even put into words. And I’m not just saying that because you bake the best cookies.”

You let out a soft laugh, a tear threatening to spill as his words wrapped around your heart. “You’re just saying that because I made you a sweater,” you teased, trying to deflect the overwhelming emotion building in your chest.

“No,” he said firmly, his eyes never leaving yours, his voice unwavering. “I’m saying it because it’s true.”

The room felt smaller now, the Christmas lights casting their soft glow around you, wrapping you both in a bubble of warmth and intimacy. It was as if time had slowed down, and all that mattered was this moment, the two of you. His hand found yours, gently resting over it, his touch grounding you.

“You’ve made me laugh when I didn’t feel like laughing,” he continued, his voice rich with sincerity. “You’ve reminded me that life doesn’t have to be perfect to be beautiful. And every time I look at you, I’m reminded that maybe, just maybe, the universe finally got it right.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, tears threatening to spill as you absorbed the weight of his words. “Chris…”

Your cheeks burned as you gazed at him, unable to deny the depth of the feelings that had been quietly building between you over the past year. The way he had supported you, respected your space, and been there when you needed him, all without hesitation. How had you never realized before just how much he had changed your life? Maybe, just maybe, he was the one you had been waiting for all along.

When Chris leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, intimate murmur, you felt it,the certainty that the so-called mix-up, the mistake that had brought you into each other’s lives, was anything but coincidence. It was fate. A quiet, unspoken connection that had led you here, to this very moment.

Your breath hitched as the distance between you disappeared. Without hesitation, you closed your eyes, surrendering to the magnetic pull of his presence. His lips brushed against yours, featherlight at first,hesitant, almost as if asking for permission. When you didn’t pull away, the kiss deepened, unfolding with a slowness that spoke of intention and meaning. It was tender yet passionate, every movement deliberate, as though he wanted to savor every second.

His hand gently cupped your cheek, the pad of his thumb tracing delicate circles against your skin. The warmth of his touch grounded you, even as your heart threatened to soar. You melted into him, losing yourself in the quiet intimacy of the moment. For that brief, perfect moment, the world outside ceased to exist. Nothing else mattered,only him, only this.

When you finally broke apart, both breathless and overwhelmed, Chris rested his forehead gently against yours, his tender smile radiating warmth. “Merry Christmas, YNnie,” he whispered, his voice low and filled with affection, as though the words were meant for you and you alone.

“Merry Christmas, Chris,” you murmured in return, your voice trembling with emotion. Your heart felt impossibly full, and the heat in your cheeks lingered, a reminder of the moment you’d just shared.

As the world around you softened, wrapped in the glow of twinkling Christmas lights and the quiet hum of holiday melodies, you leaned into the comforting presence beside you. In that stillness, a profound realization settled over you. Sometimes, the most precious gifts in life aren’t the ones you meticulously plan or chase after. They’re the ones that catch you off guard...the ones that find you, that feel like fate wrapping itself around you in the most unexpected, beautiful way.

And tonight, that gift had come wrapped in a heart, a dimpled smile, and a name that had become your favorite sound....

𐙚 ˚Tags - @atinyniki @writingforstraykids @yangbbokari @theo4eve @livelovelaughmiko @silverstarburst @galaxycatdrawz @skzoologist @shua-f4lmings @iknowyouknowminho @krisstheidiot @hyunjinhoexxx @gho-ster @ezlynkisses @elmoslungcancer @b1nn1e-1s-cut3 @seungseung-minmin @cuddlylonelyperson @jeonginsleftcheek @oreoqueen @freekyfangirl

Comment your @ If you wish to be added or removed from this list ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

𐙚 ˚ENDNOTE - Everything Here is a work of fiction and my own imagination. This does not represent the real life characteristics of Stray Kids. Make sure to like, reblog comment, and follow me for new updates!

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usomads · 7 months ago

Text

Finisher // Roman Reigns x Reader (Pin Me Pt. 2)

Author’s Note -> Hiiii everyone! So many of you requested a part two to Pin Me, which again thank you so much for all the love on the first part. I honestly didn’t think of making it multiple parts when I first wrote this, but here we are and here it is lol! Happy reading!

Plot -> After pinning the Smackdown Women’s Champion in your mixed tag-team match with Roman Reigns, you gained popularity and with that your first singles title opportunity. You’ve never been more nervous for anything in your life, so your Tribal Chief helps ease your nerves before your match…

Pairings -> Roman Reigns x Fem!Reader (Y/N)

Warnings -> Cursing, Oral Sex (Fem!Receiving), Fingering, Gagging, Implied Smut, Not Proofread, MDNI

Word Count -> 3.0k

(time skip to the first Smackdown episode after Saturday Night’s Main Event)

“I’ve been your Smackdown Women’s Champion for nearly five months now, and since becoming your champion I have proved that I am the irresistible force and nobody can take this title from me. Not Bayley, not Naomi, not Tiffany, and esp-” Nia’s promo was cut short by your entrance music hitting, the crowd rising to their feet and popping loudly for your theme. Since pinning Nia at Saturday Night’s Main Event, you had taken the WWE Universe by storm; your social media following went up, more and more people were recognizing you in public, you had gotten exactly the recognition you wanted all along- and it was all thanks to Roman Reigns.

Since last Saturday and your “celebration” post-match, you’ve grown closer to Joe. You were getting to know each other better, spending more time together, and what you initially thought was a one-time thing in the heat of the moment was clearly not. Joe got his hands on you every chance he could, it didn’t matter where or when, if he wanted you he was going to have you. And who were you to turn down your Tribal Chief?

Now, you two hadn’t defined your “relationship” just yet but you both were perfectly fine with the way things were at the moment- taking things slow and really getting to know each other (among other things) before making anything official. You were doing pretty well for yourself; you were gaining more traction than before and you had a fine ass man to go home to- you had zero complaints with how your life and career were going at the moment.

You emerged from backstage, microphone in hand, as the crowd roared at your entrance. You signaled for production to cut your music, walking confidently to the ring as you spoke. “Now, Nia, I know damn well you didn’t come in the ring to talk all this mess about ‘no one can beat me’ after last week… did you hit your head too hard during our match or something because I,” you paused, signaling to the crowd filling the arena, “as well as the entire WWE universe remember very clearly that I pinned you last week at Main Event.” The crowd cheered in response, boosting your already high confidence as you smirked at Nia. “If you’re soooo confident you can beat me one-on-one, then do it. Put your title on the line next week and let’s see how much of a ‘force’ you really are.”

“Oh, Y/N…” Nia mocked you, “it’s so adorable that you think you’re a threat to me and my title. That win you got last week, pinning me? Was pure luck.” Nia stepped to you, with little distance between you too as she glared down at you, “But unlike you, at least I don’t have to sleep with anyone to get my main event spots, I work hard for what I have. Do that first, then come talk to me.” That wasn’t in the fucking script, is she serious right now? Oh, if she wants to improv, best believe I can too. You swung without thinking twice, using the microphone in your hand to hit her on the side of the head. It was time for a fight.

You and Nia took turns trying to go at each other, both of you countering the other until she blindsided you out of nowhere with a hit that made you see double for a second. You knew you were done after that, feeling blood trickle from a cut on your head created by her. She continued to attack you while you were down, the crowd booing with every hit she delivered. After your body had slumped in the center of the ring she grabbed you by your hair and pulled you up, showing your beaten and bloody face to the crowd and cameras. “This isn’t fantasy, Y/N, stop playing pretend with Roman and go back to catering where you fucking belong.” She threw your head back onto the mat and exited the ring as security and medical personnel rushed to the ring. You dragged your fatigued body out of the ring and backstage, refusing treatment from medical despite their protests. You walked into the locker room Joe and you now shared, while Joe was screaming at someone on the phone.

“Nick, are you fucking kidding me? There’s gotta be some form of punish- I don’t give a shit what the higher ups thought about it, she could’ve seriously injured Y/N, I-,” Joe paused, turning around and seeing you enter the locker room, “I gotta go. This conversation isn’t over.” Joe hung up on the GM and rushed over to you. “Baby, are you okay? Did she hurt you? Have you gotten looked at by-”

“No, Joe, and I’m not going to. Just please, drop it. I’m over it.”

“Well, I’m not. Why the fuck would she even say something like that? How would she have known about us?”

“I don’t fuckin’ know, Joe! Now leave it alone, seriously, I’m not in the goddamn mood.” You went silent, thinking about what you were going to do about Nia. You needed to do something different, something she would never see coming. Your priorities shifted completely after that segment, you now no longer wanted just the title. Your biggest priority, maybe even more than wanting the belt, was to beat the shit outta Nia Jax, no matter what it took.

“Babe, c’mon, you need to sit down. You’re gonna stress yourself into a heart attack if you don’t quit pacing around the room like that,” Joe was currently attempting to calm you down, you had been completely fine this past week you were training and promoting the match, but now that the show had officially started your overwhelming amount of confidence had completely vanished.

“Easy for you to say, title matches are second nature to you. Muscle memory. I have never competed for a title before, I have every right to be freaking the fuck out right now, Joe,” you sighed. “It feels like everything just did a 180 degree turn, like I have so many eyes on me now and they all want me to beat Nia’s ass, and I just don’t know if I-”

“Hey, none of that. Y/N, look at me,” you slowly brought your head up to meet his eyes, the same ones that completely captivated your being just a couple weeks ago. “Whatever you’re about to say, don’t. That crowd out there knows exactly what you’re capable of, you know what you’re capable of, and I know what you’re capable of. I believe in you, baby, and if you can’t find it in you to believe in yourself then I’ll believe enough for the both of us. You got this, Y/N, I know you do.” Your heart melted at his words, the soothing and reassuring tone in his voice providing you some much needed comfort.

“You still nervous, baby?” You nodded your head, looking down at your lap as he scooted closer to you on the couch. “I think I have an idea on how we can fix that. Do you trust me?”

“A-always, Joe.”

“Good girl.” He lifts your chin with his finger and passionately presses his lips to yours, resting his palm on the side of your face as you moan into the kiss. Your stomach flutters at his soft demeanor, feeling some of your nerves dissipate as his lips caress yours. He lays you down on the couch, hovering over you as he deepens the kiss. Breathless, he pulls away, leaning his forehead against yours and looking lovingly into your eyes. “You still feelin’ nervous, baby?”

“Y-yeah,” you breathed out, “a little less, but still pretty nervous.”

“I guess I’ll have to keep going then, don’t I?” His lips find their way back to yours, resting there for a moment before trailing along your jawbone and down your neck, leaving a few wet kisses at the base of your throat before continuing his path downward. Your breathing had picked up, and you were now looking down at him as his lips left a trail down your abdomen.

“A-are you sure we should… now? I mean, I have my match later and I-”

“Shhh, I promise I’ll be quick. Just wanna take care of you, help my baby out,” he muttered against your hip bone as he teased the lining of your ring gear you had been wearing. You sighed contently, leaning your head back against the arm of the couch and allowing yourself to relax into his touch. His fingers interlock in the lining of your bottoms as he looks up for you, asking for permission to remove them. You lift your hips off the couch, allowing him to slowly drag the material down your legs and throw them to the side. He snakes both hands up your legs, kneading the soft flesh of your thighs before splitting them apart and exposing you to him. Your body was so reactive to him- Joe loved how goosebumps would scatter across your skin at the brush of his lips or how your eyes would flutter closed and your eyebrows would scrunch together with just his touch, but most of all, he loved how how wet he made you without doing a thing to you.

“Fuck, ma, always so ready for me,” you moaned loudly and bucked your hips, desperate for any sort of friction, “you gon’ have to be quiet for me, don’t want nobody to hear us, right baby?” You nodded and bit your lip, trying to hold in your cries and his fingers danced up the smooth skin of your inner thighs and through your folds, leaning down to make his face level with your core and presses a soft kiss on your clit before wrapping his lips around the swollen bud, nipping and sucking while he continues to drag his fingers along your slit before pushing a finger inside. His thrusts are slow, putting his focus on his mouth as he eats you with a burning intensity. His tongue works itself in ways that set your body on fire, the scruff of his beard along with it only adding to the sensation he’s giving you. The lip you’re biting to keep quiet is nearly drawing blood. You want to cry out, you want to moan his praises loud enough for the crowd inside the arena to hear, but you know you can’t so you continue to restrain yourself despite wanting to do the complete opposite.

He replaces his fingers with his tongue now, pumping it inside of you and using one to pin your hips down and the other to draw slow circles into your clit. This time you can’t help yourself; your clit is so sensitive that the second his fingers brushed it, you were done for. He pauses for a moment to remove his t-shirt he was wearing and you whine from the loss of contact, watching as he morphs the cotton material into a ball and hands it over to you, bringing his hand back down to your clit. “Bite down on this, since you can’t keep yourself quiet, I’ll make you.” You hesitate for a moment and look down at him, his features darkening and giving you a sly smirk before nodding his head. You bring the material to your lips before biting down on it, your senses being completely filled by Joe. He goes back to eating you as you moan into the cloth, the material successfully muffling your cries. Joe’s movements become more and more desperate, moving his tongue and fingers faster as he can sense you’re close. You can’t stop your moans now, saliva drooling from the corner of your mouth as you feel yourself getting closer to your release. Your legs begin to shake and Joe, noticing you were close, dives his head deeper into your pussy, trapping you with his mouth. Your eyes squeeze shut as you inhale, breathing in his scent and cologne you were using as a gag, triggering your own orgasm. You came on his tongue hard, shaking and moaning into the fabric of his shirt as he laps up your juices like an animal deprived of water. You even your breathing and throw his shirt back at him, the both of you laughing as he crawls on top of you.

“Oh, you wanna throw things at me do you? I might just have to teach you a le-”

Joe was interrupted by someone knocking on the door to his locker room. “Excuse me, Ms. Y/N? It’s almost time for your match, we need to head to Gorilla to finalize some things real quick.” You both sigh, him getting off of you as you put your bottoms back on in a rush. You make a run for the door to hurry and get to your position, but he grabs your arm to stop you. “You still feeling nervous?” You smiled at him and shook your head, going to thank him but getting cut off. “Good luck out there, baby. I’ll be waiting for you in Gorilla for you to show me that new title,” he kisses your cheek and you blush.

“Thank you, Joe, for everything. I mean it, I wouldn’t be doing this without you.” He gives you a soft smile and ushers you out the door, as you prepare yourself for possibly the biggest match of your entire career.

“Ughhh,” you groaned as Nia dragged you from the center of the ring to the corner, preparing to give you an Annihilator and win this match. From the jump Nia had punished you, much to the crowd’s distaste. It seemed like everybody in the arena had been behind you and you felt it, right up until the bell rang and she started throwing heavy combinations your way. You managed to sneak in a couple pieces of offense but none were convincing enough to give you any sort of edge. Nia got on the ropes, and performed the move. She remained seated on you, trying to get the pin. 1… 2… kick out. You pushed her off of you and sat on your heels, gripping your side. Jesus, my fuckin’ ribs.

Finally to your feet, you unload on Nia as she laid on the ground. Kicks, punches, springboard moves, you threw the whole arsenal but each pin attempt gave a 1 or 2 count, and never close calls. You knew deep down you were going to have to do something completely insane to get this win, so you start stringing things together to get it done. You start by giving her a drop kick to send her to the outside, following her out, then throwing her into the steel steps. You dragged her by the hair to the announce table, laying her on it as you ran to the ring and climbed to the top rope. You made sure everyone near the table had cleared before crossing your heart and doing a senton, landing on Nia as the table and collapsing along with it. You could tell that Nia was nearly to the breaking point, so you mustered all the energy and strength you could to drag her back into the ring and climbed to the top rope once more. You hit your finisher, but wasn’t satisfied. You wanted no doubts, so you climbed up and hit it again, straddling her shoulders and hooking your arms around her legs. The arena was so loud you could barely hear the ref’s count. 1… 2… 3… ‘Here is your winner, and the NEW… WWE Women’s Champion… Y/N!’

You couldn’t even process what had just happened, all you wanted to do was get the hell out of that ring so you snatched the title from the ref and escaped. You slowed down when you made it to the stage, clutching the title in your arms and looking down at it with tears brimming your eyes. Your knees felt weak, and your heart was beating out of your chest. You did it. You triumphantly raised the title in the air, tears starting to fall as you smiled and took the moment in. After the cameras had cut and you had taken a few pictures with fans, you walked backstage only to be greeted with cheers. You made your way to everyone, getting pictures, hugs, and everything else in between before locking eyes with the man you wanted to see ever since your hand was raised. Joe. You practically ran to him, jumping into his arms and wrapping yours around his neck, hugging him tightly. He spun you around and smiled from ear to ear.

“I’m so fuckin’ proud of you, baby. You had a helluva match out there, I knew you had it in you,” he kissed you sweetly right there, not caring who was watching as you grinned widely. “Now, let’s get you home,” he winked at you, setting you down before whispering low in your ear.

“We’ve got some more celebrating to do tonight.”

#roman reigns #roman reigns smut #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns fic #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns x female reader #roman reigns oneshot

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peekofhistory · 4 months ago

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I just want to say, before anything else, that I love your blog! It's so helpful to me when I write things. I'm also sorry for how long this ask is going to be. I normally ask anonymously but it won't let me put the photo in.

I really like this hanfu set but I don't know exactly what dynasty it's from, or even if it's actually historically accurate.

I also wanted to ask about the hanfu from Flourished Peony, and how accurate they are. Specifically that one pink round-collar hanfu Mudan wears when she's getting flowers from the mountain that I thought was a men's item, rather than a women's one.

Sorry about the long ask!

Going to answer both of these together since they're about the same show.

About the hanfu in the picture, this is a Ruqun (襦裙) set from the Weijin. The biggest giveaway is the stripe at the sleeves (it looks like 2 stripes but I have another pic of this outfit and you can see it's actually 1 decorative stripe with two bright borders). Also, if you look at this pic below with it untucked in the skirt, you can kind of see that there's a horizontal piece of fabric along the waist area.

If you take a look at my post about the Ruqun (here) you'll see an artefact that's very similar.

For Flourished peony, I'm only going to comment on the hanfu as I don't have enough knowledge about Tang dynasty hair or makeup right now to make any judgements. I'm also not looking at the patterns on the fabrics, I'm literally only looking at the styles of the clothing themselves.

Disclaimer, I haven't watched the show. These photos are from Google and Baidu promotional pics, and I did click through a few eps to take screencaps.

And if anyone has a screencap of, or can let me know which episode, the "pink round-collar hanfu Mudan wears" that's mentioned in the ask I'd really appreciate it (I tried looking for it but couldn't find it T__T)

Looking briefly through some of the posts regarding this show, it seems the production team put a lot of effort into recreating the Tang Dynasty aesthetic, from costumes to props (there are some people who have found props and matched them to museum pieces). For the most part, the clothing seems appropriate for the time period, the only nitpick I'll do is that it seems to mix together clothing styles from early Tang all the way to late Tang (but the show isn't set in a specific period of the Tang Dynasty, so they can kind of get away with that).

Most of the men seem to wear the round-collar robes that was most common during the Tang Dynasty (my post on it here).

This style of qixiong dress (over-bust dress) seems to be most common in this show, and definitely a staple for women's hanfu during the Tang Dynasty.

If you look at the width of her sleeve here, it doesn't appear very wide. Sleeve width became wider and wider during the Tang Dynasty, so looking at these sleeves it seems more early-going-into-Gold-era Tang (my post on Gold-era Tang hanfu here).

This style looks more early-Tang with the very form-fitted sleeve and the non-qixiong skirt. I can't see clearly the pattern of her dress here, but early Tang skirts often had alternating coloured blocks on their skirts (called jianqun/间裙子)(my post on early Tang here and here).

I can't tell clearly if this dress is a qixiong dress, or a hezi dress. Hezi dresses so far are not backed by any artefacts, there are rumours of its existence but nothing has been unearthed to verify it (someone asked me about this, I posted on it here).

Looking at the long outer robe with the wide sleeve, even if this was a qixiong dress, this would be late Tang, edging into the Five Dynasties post-Tang (my post on this here).

In the first pic, the two maids are wearing outfits that are very typical in early Tang. The collars, the little vest/half-sleeve of the shirt, etc.

I'll nitpick that historically, Chinese capes did not have hoods attached. They came separately.

You can see in this pic (from the 1987 Dream of the Red Chambers), the woman is wearing her cape, the man is holding the hood for her.

My personal theory is because of the various hair styles women have, and the various hats/guan (head pieces) men wear, a separate hood offered more flexibility. Like in this pic from Romance of the Three Kingdoms (1994), he's wearing a very tall guan so trying to fit it under a hood that's attached to the cape would be difficult. But this is all just my guesses, don't quote me xD

This maid is wearing a round-collared robe usually associated with men, but actually during the Tang Dynasty it wasn't uncommon for women to wear this style of robe as well.

This man has half the robe on, the other half off his shoulder, displaying the half-sleeve underneath. This was a common way men wore their robes in casual situations (it looks like he's hunting) (my post on this here).

I took this screenshot because you can see the difference in lengths between these two men's robes. One is calf-length, one is ankle-length. Men's robes also got longer as time went on during the Tang Dynasty. It's possible this servant is wearing a shorter robe to make walking easier, but going by the length of the man in red, this should be at least late-Tang Dynasty (post mentioning robe length here).

This outfit's sleeve is very wide, indicating later in the Tang Dynasty. I think people believe form-fitted sleeves were more for younger girls, servants, or women of lower class who had to work and large, wide sleeves were for higher-level women or older women who sat around all day. In actuality, sleeve width was an indication of time period during the Tang Dynasty (for both men and women).

This look is straight out of a Dunhuang Buddhist donor mural. They painted these to commemorate people who were devoted to Buddhism and/or gave a lot of offerings, you can find these murals at the Mogao Caves in Dunhuang City today (my post on this here).

I know I said I wouldn't discuss hair but just this one, since it's such an iconic look for the Tang Dynasty. This hairstyle is a clear replica of the Ladies with Flower in their Hair painting (簪花仕女图), but they've changed the clothing. This painting was originally believed to be from the Golden-era or Mid-Tang, but in recent years historians believe it's more likely to be late-Tang or Five Dynasties (possibly even Song Dynasty) painted. Even in China a lot of people still associate it with the Tang Dynasty.

So overall, the show's production team clearly did research to replicate Tang Dynasty clothing. For the most part, they did a good job, no cross-dynasty clothing being tossed around. There's a bit of mish-mash for which period of the Tang Dynasty the clothing's from, but that's not a huge issue. Given some of the crazy costumes that's come out of period dramas in recent years, big applause to the production team to the costuming department.

【EDIT March 6, 2025】 @/time-is-a-communist-construct sent me a pic of the pink robe they mentioned in the original ask:

During the Tang Dynasty it actually wasn't uncommon for women to wear men's clothing, such as this round-collared robe. This trend initially started in the imperial palace, before spreading to others outside the court, only fading away at the end of the Tang Dynasty:

#hanfu #汉服 #china #中国 #chinese hanfu #culture #history #fashion #clothing #historical clothing #ask #flourished peony #国色芳华 #国色芳华汉服 #flourished peony hanfu

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lilyinavalley · 1 month ago

Text

𝕷𝖊𝖋𝖙 𝕭𝖊𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖉 - 𝕿𝖆𝖎𝖌𝖆 𝕳𝖔𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖇𝖆𝖒𝖎🐯

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 2 - 𝔗𝔥𝔢 ℜ𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔲𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔱

Do you want to know what happened with Taiga in the cut scenes of episode 16? Then Check it out...

Taiga Hoshibami x reader Ao3 Ao3 versione italiana Warning! Mildly suggestive Contents! flirting, drinking, smoking, kissing, rough kissing, gentle kissing, dancing, making out [Masterlist]

Taiga: “So why don’t you just stay here, kitty-cat?”

“Stay here?”

Taiga: “Time moves faster in here, doesn’t it? How long do you have left before you kick the bucket?”

“A little over three months…”

Taiga: “Then it’s thirty months if you spend them here. In the meantime, those henchmen outside can rack their brains trying to find a way to fix you. You just stay curled up in here and wait, kitty-cat. Smart idea, huh?”

“I don’t think it’s right to just sit around waiting without trying to find a solution myself.”

Taiga: “You really think you can do something? It won’t matter whether you’re there or not. Try as hard as you want, but what’s meant to be will be.”

He puts an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer to whisper in my ear.

Taiga: “So? Don’t think about it. Just stay here with me.”

“Here with you…”

(If I stay here, I’ll have more time…)

(But… he’s right.)

“Would you really be okay with me staying here with you?”

He looks me in the eyes with an unreadable expression, holding my gaze for so long that time itself seems to slow down.

I try to meet his eyes, but the steam from the kitchen mixed with the smoke from the other patrons’ cigarettes starts to sting.

I blink to moisten my eyes, and by the time my vision clears, Taiga has already looked away. The answer to my question is, definitively, silence.

His lack of confirmation fills me with bitterness. After all, from his perspective, a life with me must seem terribly boring. Of course he wasn’t serious. Not to mention, I can’t live forever in this artificial city.

I reach for the tokkuri still full of sake that Taiga had ordered, but before I can even touch it, he beats me to it and starts pouring the drink into my cup, then into his.

We both raise our ceramic sakazuki and drink the sake in one gulp. The characteristic burn of the alcohol warms my throat and relaxes my nerves.

“You know, Taiga, we’ve known each other for a while now, and I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

This time, I pour the sake for both of us. Without waiting for a reply, I continue, gently swirling the liquid in my cup.

“You know something no one else does, right? And I’m not talking about secrets… but the future. You often act like you already know what’s going to happen, yet you don’t do anything to change the course of events. Instead, you go on acting carefree, like nothing you do matters, and the outcome will be the same no matter what.”

I sip the drink more slowly, glancing at him sideways. He keeps his eyes fixed on the cook juggling pans in the kitchen, his head lazily resting on the back of his hand.

(You really don’t like saying what’s on your mind, huh?)

I huff and, still waiting for any reaction from him, I down a few more cups of sake. When I feel the alcohol hitting a bit too hard, I set the cup down on the counter and nibble on some kataifi shrimp from one of the many dishes in front of us.

Taiga: “You’re right. I can predict the future.”

His sudden statement throws me off. I turn toward him, eyes wide.

He pulls a Chinese pipe from his jacket pocket, lights the tobacco with a match, and brings it to his lips. A puff of white smoke drifts out, reaching me too.

He lowers the slim gold-and-wood stem from his mouth and leans in dangerously close. The intense smell of burnt tobacco floods my nose.

Taiga: “Want proof?”

His gaze is too intense, his lips too close, my heart beating way too fast.

(I really shouldn’t have drunk so much…)

“Okay, show me.”

I look at him expectantly. He brings the golden tip of the pipe back to his lips, squints playfully, and smokes deliberately slowly.

Once the last wisp of smoke escapes between his sharp teeth, he places his free hand on my cheek, rubbing my cheekbone in gentle circles with his thumb.

Taiga: “Now I’m going to try to kiss you, and you’re going to slap me in disgust.”

His serious look vanishes as quickly as it came. He bursts into loud laughter, even doubling over with a hand on his stomach. The hand on my cheek slaps the counter repeatedly. I must look completely stunned — as do the other customers who’ve turned around at the commotion.

(Very funny, truly hilarious.)

He begins to calm down after a full minute. When he finally stops laughing, he throws his head back, catches his breath, and looks at me again with a mocking grin.

Taiga: “Ahhh, teasing you is way too much fun, ki—”

Before he can finish the sentence, I grab his shoulders and capture his lips with mine.

At first, Taiga freezes, but when I run the tip of my tongue along his lower lip, he responds with a breath-stealing hunger.

He sets the pipe down on the counter, grabs the back of my neck with one hand and wraps the other arm around my waist, pulling me toward him. I slide off the stool and in an instant, I’m pressed against his chest, positioned between his open legs.

He doesn’t give me a moment to breathe. He kisses me like he wants to devour me — merciless, overwhelming, almost intimidating.

When I feel I truly need air, I push him away firmly.

(I don’t want to die of asphyxiation ahead of schedule.)

Just before our lips part completely, he nibbles on my lower lip, teasing the sensitive skin with his sharp teeth—gently enough not to draw blood.

I open my eyes and find Taiga breathless, eyes shining. The Chinese lanterns above us cast a golden light across his sharp features, highlighting the faint blush creeping from beneath his eyes to the tips of his ears.

Taiga: “You surprised me, kitty-cat. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

(Neither did I… I definitely drank too much.)

But letting go isn’t so bad after all. Taiga’s right. In a few months, I might not even be alive anymore. What’s the point in holding back? Better to make bold choices than die full of regrets.

“I could still surprise you.”

The hand that had been resting at the back of my neck slides up, fingers threading through my hair. His black-polished nails tickle my scalp, sending a shiver of pleasure down my spine, ending in a soft moan.

Then his hand pulls away and the strands fall softly over my shoulders. He continues playing with my hair, running it through his fingers.

The laughter from the men playing Mahjong, the clinking of silverware, and the murmur of other diners create a carefree, lively atmosphere I haven’t experienced in a long time.

Taiga turns toward the others with a slight smile.

Taiga: “See? It’s not so bad here, after all.”

He picks up the pipe he’d left on the table and brings it back to his lips.

Temptation wraps around me like ivy—climbing my limbs, curling in my hair. Once it takes root, it’s hard to pull out. It suffocates you until you vanish from the world’s sight.

(No… I can’t stay here.)

“They say some things are beautiful because they don’t last. I think that no matter how fascinating Shi San Long is, even you would get bored eventually. Besides, if you stay here, who’ll run Sinostra’s casino?”

I say with extreme irony.

Taiga: “Ahhh, you’re right. Who’ll spend all of Lulù’s money in gambling?”

We both burst into a liberating laugh.

Taiga pulls me close again, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. Still smiling, he rubs his nose against mine and whispers:

Taiga: “Kitty-cat, come with me. Let’s have some fun before we leave this place.”

(As if he hasn’t been doing his own thing since we got to this city…)

When we step out of the restaurant, it’s already late at night. The narrow alleys of this district are bathed in the neon lights of various shops.

This hour belongs to the youth, who hang out for a good time. The streets are full of laughing groups, couples holding hands and hurrying—likely on their way home.

Taiga keeps me close with an arm around my waist. Together we weave through the twisted alleys of Shi San Long, trying not to bump into people.

(Mostly to spare the poor souls from Taiga.)

The evening breeze tousles our hair. Taiga’s long ponytail, which magically appeared with his clothes when we crossed the door, sways gently with the wind.

Without thinking, I reach out and grab the ponytail, letting it slide across my palm.

Taiga: “Do you like me with long hair? If you say yes, I might consider growing it out when we get back.”

He pulls me even closer, pressing my abdomen to his side.

Not intimidated, I take the initiative too, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“Didn’t you want to have fun? Come with me.”

I grab his hand and pull him into a place that looks like a nightclub. We descend a dark staircase; with every step, the muffled music grows louder.

At the bottom, I open a heavy black door and we’re greeted by a room packed with people swaying to the beat — hot bodies intertwined under strobe lights.

Without hesitation, I pay for two entries and rush with Taiga into the center of the dance floor.

We’re so tightly packed that we barely have space to move. I start swaying to the pounding rhythm while he stands still, his face masked in flickering darkness.

I turn my back to him, grab his arms, and wrap them around me. With my hands over his, I start guiding him with my body.

Finally, he begins to move too, sliding his hands along my hips, up and down my curves. I let my head fall back onto his firm chest.

Our heated gazes meet, and I turn back toward him.

I cup his face, rest my forehead against his, and we keep dancing like that—noses brushing, his hands exploring my shoulders, then down, tracing my waistline with his thumbs, lower, and lower… stopping on my rear.

I close my eyes and give in to the moment. I focus on the music rattling my eardrums, his body pressed against mine, and his scorching breath brushing my lips.

When I open my eyes again, a new song is playing—more upbeat this time. The crowd moves more frenetically, and we nearly get separated.

We get swept up in the energy, and Taiga grabs my hand, raises it, and spins me. Then he pulls me close to his chest, leaning in toward my ear.

Taiga: “Having fun, kitty-cat?”

He shouts to rise above the deafening music.

“Yes.”

I dance until I’m exhausted, until every joint aches, until my skin is soaked with sweat and my hair sticks to my forehead.

Drained, I collapse into Taiga’s arms—he hasn’t left me for a second.

“Let’s get some air.”

Without another word, we head for the exit.

Compared to when we arrived, the street is much emptier now—it must be really late.

I lean against a wall and let myself slide down to the ground.

“Ahh, I’m so exhausted. Can we go back to the inn?”

Taiga remains standing in front of me with his arms crossed.

Taiga: “I want to go somewhere first.”

“Alright, but wait a sec—”

Without giving me a moment to rest, he lifts me up, tosses me into the air, and catches me in his arms, one supporting my back and the other under my knees.

“Again?! Taiga, you have to stop throwing me into the air!”

He answers with a satisfied laugh and then jumps onto a trash bin.

“Where are we going?!”

I scream in fear, but I’m completely ignored, as instead of answering, Taiga is too busy doing parkour over pipes, balconies, and air conditioner vents, apparently trying to climb to the top of a building.

(Ahh, I give up.)

I wrap my arms around his neck and close my eyes, hiding my head on his shoulder, trying not to think about the reckless leaps he’s making dozens of meters above the ground.

Taiga: “Don’t be scared, open your eyes, kitty.”

He says this once we’ve come to a complete stop, still holding me in his arms.

I open my eyes hesitantly and loose the tight grip I had on him, almost choking him.

The view takes my breath away—we’re on the tallest building in Shi San Long. The city stretches out for miles below us like a spiderweb. You can clearly distinguish the dimly lit residential areas and the nightlife districts, glowing like tiny worlds of light in a universe that is still asleep.

“It’s beautiful.”

Taiga lets me go, and I walk toward the edge of the rooftop. The air is much crisper up here—a cold shiver runs up my spine and spreads to my arms, which I quickly cross over my chest to try and gather a bit of warmth.

Taiga: “Doesn’t seeing everything from up here make you feel invincible?”

He doesn’t offer me his jacket, but he does pull me into a hug from behind.

“So we came up here just to inflate your ego?”

A smile softens my expression, and another loud laugh makes his chest shake. I finally start to feel a little warmer.

I turn around and wrap my arms around Taiga.

“Thank you.”

I stand on my tiptoes and kiss him.

I kiss him lightly, trying to express all the gratitude I feel for these moments of peace he’s given me.

I kiss him passionately, so he can feel the fire that runs through my veins every time he touches me.

And then I kiss him tenderly, because I’m not ready yet to put a name to the feelings that tickle my heart every time we’re together.

When I pull away, I look into his eyes without saying a word.

A single tear falls down my cheek and disappears into the darkness of the night.

The Room <-PREVIOUS NEXT-> The Walk

Dividers by: @dollywons and @strangergraphics-archive

#tokyo debunker #tokyo debunker x reader #taiga hoshibami #taiga hoshibami x reader #tkdb

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sapphicnaturalrights · 11 months ago

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hiya folks! due to incredible popular demand, sapphicnatural week is back! it's a time to celebrate the diversity of the sapphic experience on the show through creating every kind of art you can think of, from art to fics to gifs to amvs to poetry...

the event will run from 26th august - 1st september, and everyone is welcome to participate! this year, @mrcowboydeanwinchester and @roublardise are hosting together <3

💗 prompts

we've whipped up a few prompts for each day to help generate ideas, but feel free to mix and match them as they inspire you, or completely ignore them:

day 1: heaven & hell/bury your gays

day 2: pink/chappell roan

day 3: came back wrong/monster

day 4: butch & femme/disabled sapphics

day 5: lavender/one episode wonder

day 6: new & niche/gaslight gatekeep girlboss

day 7: free space

we've got more info and context for each prompt here if you have any questions!

💗 some guidelines to help keep things running smoothly:

nsfw content is welcomed but we ask that minors do not create or interact with this content, and that all nsfw posts are tagged accordingly

we recommend using content warnings where applicable so everyone can stay safe

we won't rb content of man characters being portrayed as sapphic

we won't rb bi/pan headcanons of charlie and claire (more info on this here)

no incest

please be considerate of everything you post, and we won't be reblogging anything we deem racist, transphobic, ableist etc.

make sure you tag your post with #sapphicnaturalrights or @ us so we can see your gorgeous posts!! we'll be reblogging all of them on here throughout the week <3

and that's it! our asks are open if you have any further questions, and our faq is here. we can't wait to flood the dash with sapphicnatural content for another week, and see all the wonderful things everyone comes up with! catch you on the 26th!!

#let's go sapphics let's go !! SAPPHICNATURAL WEEK ROUND 2!!!#spn event #sapphicnatural #spnfanevent #sapphicnaturalrights

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kisses4tom · 10 months ago

Note

PT 2 OF TOM AS A DAD PLSSS

ᡣ𐭩 DAD TOM part 2!

───────────────

HEYY OFCC 🤭 SO MANY PPL ARE REQUESTING THIS ACTUALLY!! 😭 here is part 1

To be quite honest with you guys, I don't really know what else to add 😭, but I'll figure it out and make something up along the way! 💕

I hope it lives up to your expectations because, I will not lie, I ran out of ideas for a few of them 😭 yet I hope you like it either way! 🫶🏻

I also mixed various topics and scenarios for a little more inclusivity! especially because I made a lot of these hcs for a teen daughter

Obviously Tom is gonna be a girl dad 'cause what else would he beeeee 🤭🥹

───────────────

he would keep almost every drawing she's made throughout the years

HE WOULD LEND HER HIS YELLOW DOG PLUSHIE‼️‼️

when she's older he would love to get matching tattoos if she wants, but he's definitely getting one dedicated to her (did y'all know Bill and Tom have a matching tattoo with Leni? 👀)

definitely making her a photo album

if anybody says that the baby looks more like him than her mother he would act so proud istg

"Yeah, Y/n's genes said BYE!"

he would become her personal Instagram photographer

whenever his daughter brings a boy home he would be so sus of him and maybe even tell them to keep the door open 💀

DAD REFLEXES 🤭🤭‼️ so hot istg

he would get dragged into tiktoks and learn some dances together 😭

when the baby was younger, her mama would surprise Tom with matching fits and he would be sooo gitty and happy

always keeping an eye out for her in public

if he's talking to some people and he hears the smallest noise coming from his daughter (at the park or whatever), he would immidiately put everything on hold and make sure she's okay (if that makes sense idk), or he would turn to look at her

he would try to attend as many school/dance recitals as possible, but with work it's a little hard for him to find time (at times)

is she plays a sport he would cheer the loudest for her

if she ever comes out as an lgbtq+ member, he would be very supportive and just act casual after her confession

when the baby was just born and he had skin-to-skin contact with her for the first time, he got emotional

he would wake up in the middle of the night and feed her himself so you could rest (currently in between tears)

the band is OBSESSED with that child and always play with her whenever they have a chance

Tom knows he can rely on them as babysitters

why do I feel like him and Bill would FIGHT to choose who holds her

"Tom you always have her come onnn let me hold her this timeee"

he's so protective of that child

when she first started walking he’d kneel down and open his arms towards her

he would also scoot back so she could walk more and then let her fall in his arms (imagine him picking her up and kissing her cheek after 😭)

istg he would bring that child everywhere (especially when she's older)

he would make sure to dedicate her an episode/scene on Kaulitz & Kaulitz where he talks about fatherhood and his story

he's veeery supportive of everything she does

whenever he's live on Instagram or TikTok with the band he would call his daughter over and prank her with filters or something like that

he loves dressing her up, but hates changing her diaper

he usually doesn't enjoy shopping, but he would bring her everywhere and spend time together

he's such a quality time dad

when texting, he would send real time pictures of his most honest reaction LMFAO😭

he would make sure his and Gustav's daughter are like little cousins (spoiler alert: they are!)

his daughter will grow up with "do you need a stepmom by any chance?" questions 😻

if Tom and the baby's mom broke up, co-parenting would be pretty hard on him, as he loves that child so much it hurts him to know he can't see her every day

he would probably bring her to some meet and greets with fans (both now and back in the day)

fans would give him so many gifts for her

sometimes he gets emotional knowing she won't stay a baby forever, but he's still very excited to know her character and mess with her more

when she was a baby, at the beach he would dip her feet in the water

when she's older he'd splash the hell out of her and push her in the water

he definitely picks her up on his shoulders (both as a baby and as a teen)

if you have more ideas leave them in the comments so I can add them! 🤭

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justtakeout · 5 months ago

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The Big Bang Continuum EP 2: The Coefficient of Chaos in Child-Rearing

Sheldon faces a parenting dilemma when Leonard’s hockey game clashes with Laura's newfound passion for acting, a hobby he blames on Penny. As the gang gathers at the ice rink, Sheldon tries to maintain his scientific approach, but family dynamics quickly challenge his methods.

hi guys, this is ep2 of the tbbt webtoon! had to split what was originally ep2 into two separate episodes because of the upload limit. the next chapter will be the last one, and it'll probably take a while too since i haven’t even started it yet hahaha. hope you guys enjoy this one as much as i enjoyed making it, and i’d love to hear what you think! you can check it out here: Read The Big Bang Continuum :: The Coefficient of Chaos in Child-Rearing (Part 1) | Tapas Community Read The Big Bang Continuum :: The Coefficient of Chaos in Child-Rearing (Part 2) | Tapas Community

leonard cooper’s jersey number was supposed to be #12, but i messed up in ep1 and didn’t notice the typo until later. decided to roll with #14 instead to match his age, figured it worked out in the end.

apparently, “silver fox” means an attractive older man, which i had no idea about hhahaha. i was just throwing around team names with foxes, monkeys, and koalas. too late to change it now since the jerseys and logos are already done, and honestly, i’m too lazy to redo it t_t.

i don’t have a background in hockey or webtoons, so i pulled a lot of inspiration from dogshred (https://www.manhwatoon.com/manga/dogsred/) after seeing it recommended on reddit. mostly used it to figure out how to panel the game flow and sfx. no idea if what i did is accurate, i just went with what felt right, lol. if you’re into hockey manga, i’d say check it out, though i haven’t finished reading it yet.

for the gameplay, leonard cooper was loosely inspired by connor bedard (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bxFUWS5MBOc&list=WL&index=3&pp=gAQBiAQB), but the script’s game play is a mix of:

Little Caesars VS #2 Chicago Mission 15s | Game Highlights 2019 MAHA Bantam Major State Championship - HoneyBaked vs Little Caesars Bauer Bantam Elite Invite Finals - West Van vs Delta - Extended Game HighlightsAAA Bantam Day 3 Championship (Full game, no commentary)

asked a coworker for advice on the game and terminology, but yeah i don’t really know hockey hahaha used a ton of references while drawing the scenes.

also cut a lot of scenes from the original script since it felt like it was dragging the pace haha big thanks to angel @girlnamedangel for beta reading and giving super helpful feedback!

if you notice any differences in details, it’s probably because i drew some stuff from memory while at work lol. let me know if you spot any typos or mistakes so i can avoid them next time hahaha.

#sheldon x amy #amy farrah fowler #sheldon cooper #fanart #shamy #bigbang theory #tbbt #leonard hofstadter #penny #howard wolowitz #rajesh koothrappali #bernadette rostenkowski #young sheldon #webtoon #note is long i'm so sorry hahahahha

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cowboywritersworld · 1 year ago

Note

Can I prompt (Face) Fem!Reader & (Heel) Damian are paired together for the mixed match challenge & have worked well together. They are being interviewed backstage & the interviewer points out the chemistry they share & wonders if there is anything going on between them. Reader & Damian laugh it off & reader tries to prove there's nothing between them by kissing him. Both try to play it cool afterwards but clearly the kiss sparked something.

Maybe we are lying to ourselves

General Masterlist | WWE Masterlist | Damian Priest Masterlist

Characters: Damian Priest, Reader

Prompt: (Face) Fem!Reader & (Heel) Damian are paired together for the mixed match challenge & have worked well together. They are being interviewed backstage & the interviewer points out the chemistry they share & wonders if there is anything going on between them. Reader & Damian laugh it off & reader tries to prove there's nothing between them by kissing him. Both try to play it cool afterwards but clearly the kiss sparked something.

AN: thanks for requesting, here you are! Hope you'll enjoy it! For this fic as well, I can come up with a second part, if anyone is interested. Maybe where after they win the final, they kiss better and admit they are attracted to each other.

The time the fan had determined they wanted to see you and Damian pair in the Mixed Match Challenge, you had been surprised. You are a face, while Damian is a heel, but you work so perfectly together.

You look as he pins your opponent, while you hold Charlotte back, to avoid her breaking the pin.

1... 2... 3! It's done. You are the first mixed team to advance to the final of that season of the challenge. You slid into the ring and the referee holds your hands in the air, while you take in both the cheers and boos of the fans attending that episode of Raw.

"Well done on keeping Charlotte out of the ring." Damian whispers to you as you both head backstage.

"That's my job and I'm pretty good at it." You reply as you high-five some fans on the way.

"So full of yourself." He huffs, shushing you to the back.

"Never as much as you are."

You tease him, following him until the interviewer stops both of you. She places herself between you both, a little behind, keeping the mic in front of you.

"I am here with Damian Priest and Yrn. Guys, you just advanced to the finals of this challenge. How do you feel about it?" She doesn't ask anyone in particular, but it's Damian who speaks first.

"We were put in a team together just by joke by the fans. Well... Here we are! Heading to the final match as the first team qualified! How many of you thought we could come so far into this challenge? Never underestimate us!" Damian looks always straight into the camera, moving around, his hands as well, while he speaks.

"We may have some bickering from time to time, but we work strangely good together. We won't stop here, so whoever is going to win the last semifinal, beware: we'll be the winners! You have no chance against us." You grin as you speak, looking from time to time to Damian, but you keep your focus on your part of the segment.

"Speaking of working well together..." The interviewer catches your attention once again and you both turn slightly to her. "Everyone sees the chemistry there is between you two each time you have a match together. It seems like you are perfect partners. Many are wondering if there is anything between you two."

"..." You are left astonished for a moment, not expecting such a question, but you are quick to answer. "Our relation is only workwise. There is nothing between us backstage or outside work." You laugh, playing it cool, while Damian follows you.

"Then how is it..." She can't finish her question, since you cut her off.

"Well, let us show you that there is actually nothing between us."

You feel slightly pissed off while you reach over to Damian, getting on your tiptoes - Damian being at 2 feet 5 inches be damned - to kiss him on the lips.

The kiss lasts not even one minute, the interviewer looks surprised, as much as Damian, but he smirks letting you lead that chaste kiss. Once you take some steps back, you avoid looking at Damian, looking at the camera instead.

"Our chemistry doesn't involve anything personal. Now, if you'll excuse us..."

You dismiss yourselves and go to your locker room, lightly touching your lips deep in your thoughts, raising an eyebrow as you feel Damian following you. You are questioning what you have just done, because instead of proving it meant nothing, deep inside your heart you feel it's not like that.

"You don't need to follow me, you know? The cameras aren't with us anymore." You try to act still cool, but you can't stop thinking about the kiss, wanting to feel those lips once more.

"You know we didn't need to prove that, especially not in that way, right?" He asks, grinning. "Kissing me like that, will make the fans talk about it, instead of have them thinking there is really nothing between us."

You blush a little, scratching your nape. "I... I acted on instinct. Thought we could persuade them somehow." You definitely hate yourself now, you definitely shouldn't have.

#damian priest #damian priest imagine #damian priest x reader #damian priest x y/n #wwe imagine #wwe fic #wwe fanfiction #ask me

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axkirak · 10 months ago

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The Curse of Cassandra [EP : VI]

Read in Ao3 : here

Pairings: Qimir x f!reader(SEA Reader) [The Acolyte]

Content waring : 18+ smut/nsfw, manipulation, fingering, p in v, virgnity loss, unprotected sex, creampie (Just asking for a friend: Do the Bene Gesserit need a condom?🤔)

tags/themes : Alternate Universe - Dune & Star wars, Partners in Crime, Strangers to Lovers

Summary: On your twentieth birthday, after spending nearly three years with Qimir, you finally decide to reveal your secret to him. And from that moment, your relationship with him will never be the same again.

Status: finished writing this fic! (It will end in Episode 14)

A/N : As mentioned, This fan fiction mixes elements from two universes, so some details might not match canon perfectly. I’ve made adjustments but will try to keep key canon elements intact. I hope you read this for enjoyment, not to nitpick details.

ps. Writing smut in English is rather demanding for me. I hope you can forgive any mistakes in this EP. I’ve done my best 😭

➡ Intro // EP : 1 // EP : 2 // EP : 3 // EP : 4 // EP : 5 // EP : 7 // EP : 8 // EP : 9 // EP : 10 // EP : 11 // EP : 12 // EP : 13 // EP : 14 (Completed)

Special OS : Phantom Thread // My mother is my enemy

[Episodes 6] Four things cannot be hidden—love, smoke, a pillar of fire and a man striding across the open bled.

On your twentieth birthday, after spending three years with Qimir, you finally decide to reveal your secret to him.

There is no point in hiding it any longer, especially after he has already seen something he shouldn’t have on that ship. Besides, you no longer wish to conceal it. That near-death experience has changed your perspective—not just on your own feelings but also on the visions that have surfaced from deep within your subconscious. Through the fog of time, you sense profound changes—both in the future paths and in the bond between you and him.

A bond you never wanted to form. Feelings you wish to deny. But no matter how hard you try, in the end, you can’t escape it.

Sometimes, fate has a strange way of twisting things—you can’t help but think that when you recall your first meeting. You hated Qimir with all the intensity of your feelings. You couldn’t stand him. There were moments you even plotted his death, planning to flee far away. But who would have thought that three years later, you’d find yourself lying in his arms on a small bed in a rundown hotel near the Starports on Olega, far removed from the bloody events on Tatooine.

You are uncertain if it can even be called love. But one thing is certain: Qimir's presence changes your life forever. He changes you. You change him. And you have no idea if it is for better or worse.

Resting your head on Qimir's chest, you let his large hand caress your back. It's strange how safe you feel with him, despite having witnessed him kill so many people.

But it's not just you who feels this way. Qimir doesn't seem to fear you either. His words are blunt and direct when he finally asks about what he's seen. "I saw what you did—you control people with just your words," Qimir says. "What exactly are you? A member of some witch's coven?"

He turns on his side, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, holding you close as if to comfort you from the terrifying events that have unfolded earlier. Yet at the same time, it is clear he intends to keep you there, preventing you from leaving until you answer his question honestly.

You know Qimir’s intent, but do not push back. You remain silent for a moment before replying.

"It is an ancient technique passed down by my people," you confess, feeling as though you are revealing a terrible sin to some forgotten god. "We use our voice to command others, bending their will to our desires." You pause before adding, "And no, I am not part of any witch’s coven. My mother said those covens are nothing but lowly imitators, trying to replicate what we truly are."

"Your people? What do you mean?" Qimir frowns, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. A wave of unease washes over you as you realize that the moment of truth is finally upon you.

“I am Bene Gesserit.”

Bene Gesserit—those words, foreign to most in this age, are known only to a select few who have studied ancient history.

According to old records, before the rise of the Jedi Order, the Bene Gesserit was a powerful religious order that held great power throughout the galaxy, known as the Sisterhood. They only accepted women deemed worthy into their ranks.

It is said that the Bene Gesserit were the true originators of the Force, passing down their teachings through generations. The Bene Gesserit sisters possessed mysterious powers and physical capabilities far beyond the reach of ordinary people. They could neutralize poisons within their own bodies, control others with the power of the voice, and train their minds and bodies to heights that defied natural limits. Some could even glimpse into the future with an eerie sense of prophecy, though only fragments of what was to come—except for the Reverend Mothers who led the order. They alone held the power to peer through the memories of their ancestors, journeying through the past, present, and distant future.

And it was this obsession with the visions they received that drove their beliefs. The Bene Gesserit were convinced that the universe was heading toward destruction, haunted by the prospect of a terrible future. Their only solution was to guide human evolution to its pinnacle through meticulous breeding programs that spanned generations. They strengthened their power by sending their sisters to marry and breed with the ruling houses of various planets, integrating themselves into the political and religious structures, and influencing every layer of society, from the lowest to the highest ranks—all for one ultimate goal: the creation of the Kwisatz Haderach, a superior human who transcended all others.

Yet ironically, it was the Kwisatz Haderach himself who brought about the very doom of the universe, which the Bene Gesserit had feared and attempted to avoid all along.

The Bene Gesserit succeeded in creating the Kwisatz Haderach as intended, but they utterly failed to control him. Paul Atreides, the only son of Duke Leto Atreides and Lady Jessica of the Atreides, a Bene Gesserit sister, became a religious icon before he reached twenty. He was revered as the Lisan al Gaib—Voice from the Outer World—and was worshiped as a godhead. He led the Fremen, the ancient people of Arrakis, in a jihad that spread across the galaxy. Tens of millions perished in the holy war, and hundreds of millions more during the tyrannical rule of the Kwisatz Haderach’s own son.

Eventually, the Kwisatz Haderach's dynasty was annihilated by the vengeful masses, and the universe slowly began to heal, giving rise to numerous new sects, including the Jedi Order.

The Bene Gesserit were said to have vanished during this time, and rumors of their demise were widespread. Some claimed that the Kwisatz Haderach, driven by his hatred for the Sisterhood, had eradicated them entirely, while others believed they were blamed for the jihad and were hunted down by the vengeful populace.

Regardless of the cause, the true reason for the destruction of the Bene Gesserit was their overwhelming power and the mysterious goals they pursued. It was decided that the Bene Gesserit witches should no longer exist in the universe, as no one wanted to risk the emergence of a second Kwisatz Haderach.

For thousands of years, you have been the last Bene Gesserit. Although your skills and powers are far weaker than those of your ancestors due to a lack of proper training, you still surpass both Jedi and Sith. Your power is the source of the Force they wield—an ancient power that none can fully replicate unless they are also Bene Gesserit.

“I am not only a Bene Gesserit; I am also a Fremen,” you reveal, deciding to share another layer of your secret with him. You point to your deep blue eyes, the eyes of Ibad, the distinct mark of your ancient race, now long extinct along with the Bene Gesserit. “My Fremen name is Hara[1], a name known only to my mother."

You are surprised at yourself for disclosing your Fremen name to him. For the Fremen, a tribal name carries deep meaning and significance, given only to those who can be trusted completely.

However, you feel a sense of relief after finally speaking, though it's not complete. There are still secrets you haven’t shared with him, but revealing this much is already more than enough. You trust Qimir, but you are unsure how much of this truth he can truly accept. Deep down, you are terrified he might see you as a monster, shun you, or worse, decide to eliminate you like others might. Your very existence might be too dangerous to allow you to survive.

But Qimir says nothing. He appears deep in thought, his expression unreadable. You can’t discern his feelings, and the silence grows unbearable. Finally, you ask, 'Do you fear me now that you know who I am?'"

As the words leave your mouth, you bite your lip unconsciously while waiting for his reply, worry gnawing at you. How strange it is to be afraid of his rejection more than your own death."

"Fear?" Qimir tilts his head, puzzled by your question for a moment. Seeing your distressed expression, he quickly grasps your concern. "I have no reason to fear you," he says, stepping closer to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, then the tip of your nose. "I do not fear you," he emphasizes, sealing his words with a firm kiss on your lips.

You let Qimir kiss you a little longer. When he finally gives you a chance to catch your breath, you ask, 'Even though I am dangerous?' Your voice is barely a whisper, filled with uncertainty.

Everything feels too perfect and too smooth, and instead of providing reassurance, it only makes you feel more uneasy.

Qimir smiles widely, almost as if he wants to laugh but is holding it back. "Oh, in that case, it’s me you should fear more." He teases, his tone playful, as he resumes kissing you. Not on your lips, but now on your ear, nibbling playfully, while one of his hands moves up to your breast, caressing and teasing your nipple through the fabric with his thumb.

Your eyes widen as you realize what is about to happen. You grab Qimir’s arm, quickly halting his mischievous actions before things can go any further. “Qimir,” you call out his name, your heart pounding, your voice faltering with each shaky breath.

Qimir stops immediately, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. You see the clear reflection of desire in his dark eyes. “Don’t want to?” he asks, his voice carrying a hint of pleading, though the playful smirk at the corner of his mouth suggests something more sly, as if he knows every thought in your mind without reading it, knowing that you won’t refuse.

His knowing demeanor makes you feel annoyed, but there is little you can do. In a situation like this, you are at a disadvantage in nearly every way.

“Well, I…” You try to speak but hesitate for a moment, your cheeks burning hot as if set aflame. You don’t know how to explain it to him without making yourself feel even more embarrassed. “I don’t know how... I’ve never... you understand, right?”

That isn’t entirely true. Even though you have never been intimate with anyone, you aren’t that naive. As a Bene Gesserit, you can see the past through ancestral memories, which sometimes bring you glimpses of things you shouldn’t see, intruding into your dreams. But dreams and reality are entirely different. You feel out of place, unsure of what to do, like someone who has read extensively but fails when it comes to practical application.

Qimir lets out a clear laugh, his sly smile shifting to one of genuine amusement, making you blush even more. Before you can protest, he seizes the moment and silences you with a kiss.

This time, though, it feels different.

Never before has a kiss between you two felt so deep and intense. His lips and tongue are sharp and distinct as they invade, filled with a potent desire that permeates every touch, burning with unwavering purpose, as if he wants to touch the very core of your being, reaching the true self you have never revealed to anyone.

When he finally pulls back, he doesn’t move far. His mouth lingers on your lips, and his hands gently cradle your cheeks. “Relax, don’t be afraid,” Qimir whispers, his lips trailing to your neck, feeling the rapid pulse beneath your skin, then moving down to your chest. “I told you before, you don’t need to hide yourself when you’re with me.” His voice is soft, almost dreamlike, but every touch is real.

You follow his lead, as if under a spell, letting him undress you without resistance. His large hands roam over every part of your soft skin, planting kisses along the curves of your body, from your shoulders down to your hips, and finally to the inside of your thighs. His dark eyes examine your naked form without looking away, not missing a single detail, taking in every perfection and flaw—nothing hidden, nothing concealed.

“I want you to feel every emotion within you—anger, fear, and desire…” The word ‘desire’ from Qimir’s lips was as sweet as honey. “Embrace who you truly are, what you can be, and what you can do when you’re with me—only with me.”

You flinch as his fingertips brush against your delicate folds before sliding inside you. You can feel every knuckle as he slowly works his way deeper, one finger becoming two, gently stretching you as he allows you to grow accustomed to the sensation. He then begins to move them slowly, his thumb rubbing your bud, massaging every sensitive spot inside and out, sending shivers of unfamiliar pleasure through your body.

Waves of strange, stinging bliss ripple across your skin, making you restless as you writhe in the throes of sharp delight. But his other hand presses firmly on your lower abdomen, forcing you to stay still.

“Be a good girl,” Qimir admonishes, a grin tugging at his lips, clearly enjoying watching you struggle helplessly beneath him.

You moan, burying your face in the pillow, your entire body trembling with the intensity of your climax, making you feel like you are floating in a sea of stars. After catching your breath for a moment, you look up to see Qimir hastily removing his own clothes. His skin is pale, his body sculpted with lean, defined muscles, as beautiful as a statue in a temple. But what sets him apart are the scars, some small, some large, like cracks in marble. Yet these imperfections only make him more striking, unique, and beautiful.

Qimir turns to look at you, fully aware that you have been watching him the entire time. His face softens in the dim light, but his eyes remain dark. You sense the intense longing within them—a desire he’s harbored for a long time. You wonder why you never noticed the fragile restraint in him until now. He seems on the verge of snapping, as if he’s been wound too tight, ready to unravel at any moment.

Qimir wastes no time, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close until there’s no space left between you and him. His hardness presses firmly against the crevice of your thighs, the heat spreading through your body as his cock gradually sinks into your swollen slit, filling you completely.

A low moan escapes his lips, soft and barely audible. Qimir pauses briefly, giving you a chance to catch your breath and adjust. As he takes a moment to relish the closeness, he revels in the warmth of your tight, slick, silky walls that embrace his length perfectly.

"It might hurt at first, but it’ll get better soon. Just bear with it," he murmurs, his hand gently stroking your hair. He plants a warm kiss on your cheek, trying to comfort you as your face contorts with pain. It feels like he’s about to tear you apart as he pushes in fully. You lock eyes with him in shock as a flood of emotions washes over you—strange, frightening, painful, and thrilling all at once.

Your lips part, letting out a silent moan as Qimir begins to move, thrusting in to the hilt until you can feel every inch of him deep within you. He brushes away a stray lock of black hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. His lips press a kiss to your sweat-dampened temple as his hips thrust forward, quickening the pace. Your soft inner walls tighten, clenching around him as his tip repeatedly hits your sweet spot.

By now, the pain has subsided, replaced by waves of pleasure building inside you, ready to explode.

Tears stream down your cheeks as you grip Qimir's shoulders as if your life depends on his mercy. Your hips rise to meet his movements, every fiber of your being striving to get closer to him, nearly melding into one.

The rhythm changes slightly, slowing down and becoming less steady but more forceful. You pant heavily, feeling the climax approaching, each movement bringing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

Just a few more thrusts, and you both reach the peak together. He spills into you, his release filling you up and spilling over. The hot, wet feeling of his cum makes your body shiver and feel dizzy, still unaccustomed to these new sensations.

The room gradually returns to calm. When Qimir pulls away, your body suddenly feels light and empty, like weightless cotton. You drift in the calm afterglow, enveloped in his embrace as he nuzzles you, kisses your cheeks and forehead, and caresses your hair tenderly, just as lovers do."

But there are no words of 'love' from his lips. The last thing you hear from Qimir before slipping into sleep is, 'You’re no longer alone. You belong to me.”

Instead of feeling reassured by these words, a strange unease flickers through your mind, as if you've just stepped onto a path of grave mistake.

Footnotes:

[1] In Fremen culture (as depicted in the film Dune), Fremen names are special names that differ from regular ones, only shared with outsiders when there’s deep trust and acceptance. For example, Chani tells Paul her Fremen name, 'Sihaya,' as a sign of accepting him as a lover. That’s why the reader needs a Fremen name—it’s culturally important (and I certainly WILL NOT USE Y/N as a Fremen name, absolutely no way!). I’ve hinted at this name since EP : I (if you pay attention, you’ll notice it), and it ties into the story, so I hope you're okay with the name I picked.

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glittter-skeleton · 2 months ago

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My Top five season 2 Sam fits:

I followed in the shoes of my fave OUAT recapper and decided to do a Qleap seasonal best outfits

“What Price, Gloria?” girlmorning comfy fit

This list wouldn’t be anywhere near complete without an outfit from this episode and this one stood out to me the most. First, it’s not Sam trying look like a girl, he just decided this was the most fitting thing to wear to cook breakfast apparently. Second, unlike the dresses (no offence to that level of swag but they’re all not really Sam’s style, even if you read him as a transfem egg) it complements him well. Also, green really is his color even if this shade specifically isn’t the best example of that.

“Good Morning Peoria” Makeout button up

Didn’t think Sam would look this great in pink but I love the way it looks on him with the warm lighting. The cuffed sleeves show him hard at work but also show off his forearms nicely. Mixes the masculine and the feminine. And I do love the shirt, it fits him very well but I’m a sucker for this almost bowling shirt pattern.

“Maybe baby” cowboy swag

A simple, elegant, all-American classic. A better take on the cowboy than the actual cowboy ep (though that wouldn’t count as it is from s1). It’s not all that interesting but boy does it fit well. I love the tight jeans (not quite matching the jacket is a nice touch), the white shirt gives us just a slimmer of chest hair, the belt buckle adds to the absolute swagger and the cowboy hat finishes it. Plus he’s missing the entire upper half of it for quite a long scene and I am but a woman.

“Another Mother” serious milf fit

Now this is a look with a skirt that while being era and situation appropriate is much closer to what I would imagine as Sam’s style. The earrings work well with the longer hair, the big poofy shirt is very late 70s-early 80s and works great to make the waist more prominent for an hourglass shape. I love the silly belt and I imagine he used the watch to keep us with the tight schedule of motherly duties. And the skirt is a beautiful forest green that suits him wonderfully. Fave fem look as of rn

“Disco Inferno” serious brother talk

This is completely biased choice as I just love 70’s style but it does truly do Sam ALL the favours. Tight jeans (wonderful bell bottoms obv though you can’t see that in the pic) strike again but the accessories and color choices really make this one so so special to me. It’s not Overwhelming with the green, it’s more of an accent color in the (quite tight;)) shirt while the rest is brown to match his hair and generally form an earthy-toned base which obviously matches his hair and complexion. And the accessories!!! Here’s a closeup so you can actually see them

It’s so ease to see men actually accessorise and I think Sam wouldn’t do it in his style (at least before he comes home) but it looks so pretty!!! And this isn’t an outfit he leaped into so I can only assume he either struck gold getting ready for a tv dinner with his fam or al helped him out. The chain drawing your eyes to the slightly open chest, the complementing chain bracelet, the ring!!! It looks incredible 100/10

#sam beckett #quantum leap #fashion #qleap

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midnight1nk · 7 months ago

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EPISODE CONCEPT #5

What if... WOTFI 2024 had a very different ending?

[more below cut]

For context, this was an idea I saved in my back pocket, based on my early theories of Marty being the villain for WOTFI ‘24. It obviously isn’t what we got at the end, however, this concept is not out of the realm of possibility… [Also available on AO3 + Wattpad]

“You asked for this.”

SMG4 placed a protective hand on Mario's shoulder, glaring at that cardboard cutout for that comment. This is ridiculous; how did Marty go from creating poisonous spaghetti sauce to building a whole CARNIVAL to trap them here? All because Mario left him behind in prison for spaghetti.

An eye for an eye, there were always two sides of the same coin.

Marty, a cutout whose sole purpose was to take over Mario's Pizza stand, felt underestimated. Underappreciated. What more did he have to approve to show he was friends with his own creator? Four supposed he could share that sentiment but there is a line where revenge can be mistaken for justice.

Mario, known to be an icon for Nintendo and the Avatar of the universe, has the ability to break reality for two consistent things: (1) spaghetti obviously, and (2) his friends. Mario simply couldn't help going after his favorite thing, and didn't intentionally leave Marty in prison. To betrayal. Whatever happens, the Crew will stand by Mario's side.

This domino effect of misunderstandings has led up to this, a feud between a creation and its creator. And this has to end.

From on top of the unmoved Ferris Wheel, Marty looked down at them and let out a robotic laugh. They don't stand a chance. With a puff of smoke, he disappeared. The Crew, who were watching him from below, exchanged glances at each other.

This was WOTFI, they knew the drill, but what were they supposed to do? Marty without a doubt made it impossible for them to escape when they were playing in his territory. A rather flashy territory, that is. The lights, the theatrics, if SMG4 knew anything, this wasn't Marty's style.

Saiko was the first to speak up. "Well, we can't just stand around and do nothing. Anyone got any ideas?"

"I'd say we start blowing stuff up," Bob suggested. SMG3's eyes lit up with excitement at the idea.

SMG4, Karen, and Mario shared a look. The three knew Karen still had a mission to finish off Marty and this would be her last chance to do so. With the expertise that she has, she could lead the group, have a plan. But SMG4 and Mario don't want to out Karen to the Crew that she's a former assassin. Realistically, Karen wouldn't be the odd one out of their mix-match Crew. For meme's sake, they have a melon goddess and a goofy Avatar that could bend time and space.

But the men wanted to allow Karen to have that choice to tell the Crew or not, giving her a nod. Her secret was safe. She nodded back in gratitude. "It'll be best if we split up and search around the grounds. There might be something that could help us get out of here."

"It's worth a shot," Four agreed. "Just to be safe, guys. Grab a buddy and we'll meet back here in half an hour."

They all hummed in affirmation or gave a thumbs-up, splitting up in different directions. Since Four was the only one left without an available partner, he decided to join Meggy and Mario.

Going through the game stands, Four prayed to the spaghetti gods that nothing was going to pop out of them for a scare. A cheap one, Meggy added.

Marty has shown to be incredibly resilient against attacks. Not even a nuke could leave a scratch.

Meggy upgraded her Splattershott with some of the parts from a water shooting game, now twice the power.

In a Whack-a-Mole game, Mario grabs a couple of hammers for himself and SMG4. They were similar to the ones he and Luigi used in combat in past adventures and Mario being his Avatar, Four could easily learn a few of his tricks.

Four, unlike the other two, was distracted at one of the stands. With a slingshot in hand, he aimed the small rubber balls at the targets. Perhaps it was muscle memory or something, he didn't miss a single one. He sighed in lament, maybe the Crew would've enjoyed spending a day at the carnival if they weren't trapped here against their will. When Four was readjusting his cap, he felt a bump inside. In the strange pocket dimension that was Four's cap, he reached in to find one of Three's bombs. After a second, it clicked for him. Right, SMG3 hid this back when the cafe went through that fake inspection visit. A bomb and a slingshot, an idea came to mind. He stuffed both of them under his cap, it might come in handy later.

As he turned around to return to the others, something caught his eye. By where the stands end, there are a couple of small tents set up. He couldn't tell from any of them what was lurking in the darkness. Except for one.

Four went to clutch his right wrist. Louder and louder and louder, he could feel his heart trying to burst out of his chest. That...

"SMG4! Our time is up, we should head back to the others!" Meggy called out.

Pulling back from the blur of his mind, he let out the air caught in his throat he unknowingly had. He released his grip, shaking his hand until he could feel it again. Why here? And why now?

He looked back at the tents once last time, his expression numb.

.・*-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-*・.

WOTFI has ended, Marty has been defeated, and Karen completed her mission by delivering the finishing blow. Three's bomb came in clutch at the right moment when the Crew was backed into a corner and it was thanks to Four's aim that got them out of it. Naturally, the Crew celebrated and they all went home to rest after such a long day, leaving Four alone in the Castle.

After splashing his face with water, Four gripped the edges of the sink. Whatever made his mind spiral is twisting his stomach. He felt sick but he swallowed it back down. No, it was already too much as it is.

This is what you asked for.

He was never exactly a fan of his reflection. At times, it showed how tired he looked. In others, it became its own person, taunting him. Just as it was doing now. After some thought, he dared to face the bathroom mirror and his determination looked right back at him.

Karen wasn't the only one who needed to finish a job.

He dried his face. Grabbing a hoodie, a flashlight, and his cap loaded with his combat tools, he left the Showgrounds without anyone noticing. He made sure no one followed.

.・*-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-*・.

The carnival was mostly destroyed due to their winning battle against Marty, left abandoned. Not even the Ferris Wheel was lit up, its presence was only noticed by the shadow against the sky. Retracing his steps, Four let his light guide him through the grounds. The rustle of branches and dirt from under his boots was the only noise that broke through the silence. Despite being here just a few hours ago, it felt like the first time.

Things were never truly the same in the dark.

Long at last, he arrived at the tents that were miraculously still intact. He stopped at the entrance of one in particular. Right above was a simple sign, a metallic ribbon with five golden stars. He took a breath and turned off his light. Marching through the curtain and into the dark, he waited.

"I got to hand it to you: you do know how to keep an audience waiting in suspense."

Four scoffed, "Mr Puzzles."

With a snap, the flame on the candles magically sparked to life, lighting as much as it possibly could for Four to take in. Mr Puzzles sat across from where Four was standing, a table being the only barrier between them. The candles, the hanging beads. The typical crystal ball. Four rolled his eyes, how fitting. It seems that Puzzles has read his mind, based on the grin he has now.

"Here for a fortune...?

"Cut the bullshit," Four interrupts him. "Don't think I haven't figured it out that you were the one helping Marty."

Puzzles, unfazed by Four, merely shrugged. "Well, he did lack creative vision."

Four pounded on the table, a dark aura settling upon him. "How's this for an idea, you son of a glitch: if you EVER put my friends in harm's way again, I'll make sure to TEAR every. Single. Damn wire off of you." His eyes narrowed. "Starting with your throat."

It took all of Four's willpower to hold himself back from throwing the nearby chair at Mr Puzzles' face. His eyes flashed a dim magenta. Puzzles looked up and down at him with an expression that Four couldn't decipher. Tired? Unimpressed? Pulling out a deck of cards, Puzzles focused his attention on shuffling them.

Mr Puzzles commented, his voice monotone. "My my, and what will your audience think of your attitude?"

Four steeled his expression, not caring for this "distraction". His hand was on standby, ready to pull out the hammer Mario gave him earlier or a Meme Poké ball from his cap.

"We're entertainers, SMG4. It's our desire to make the audience happy, no matter the cost," Mr Puzzles explained, flipping each card in between his fingers. "And you would know better than anyone that sacrifices are bound to happen."

"My friends aren't for your amusement!"

"As if you aren't doing the same thing."

"Getting them in random situations is one thing but I'm not the one using them as puppets." Four shakes his head. "So, no, I don't know whatever the hell you mean."

Mr Puzzles looks up at Four with an amused grin. "You chose to sacrifice the perfect video to save SMG3."

Four blinked. A wave of unease passed over him, just for the fact alone of Three's name coming out of his mouth... One of the strings that held him back snapped. He could feel his right eye slightly twitch, his fingers pinching a bit of the velvet tablecloth.

Mr Puzzles mutters, curious, "Hmm. A bit of a touchy subject, huh?"

Four took a breath, forcing himself to not get riled up. "Alright, spit it out already. What do you want from me? Otherwise, I'll start counting down until sunrise for you to leave the Mushroom Kingdom for good."

"I'm not the one sneaking off in the middle of the night into a fortune teller's tent, SMG4. Well, since you insist..." Mr Puzzles holds up a card, showing a water-colored picture to Four of a sunflower being stabbed by a sword, its petals swiped with blood. "Curious to see your fortune?"

"If this is one of your Puzzlevision tricks—"

"A parlor trick, nothing more," Mr Puzzles clarifies putting the card back into the deck. "If you let me read your future, then I'll give you what you want."

Mr Puzzles' hand gestures to the empty chair. An offer. A risky one at that, Four hesitated. He scanned Puzzles' face for a sign, anything that would reassure him that this couldn't be trusted.

...Nothing.

Of course, he could simply leave. But that would also risk Puzzles' getting away again. Another plan to destroy his friends. He would need to keep an eye on him.

Four pursed his lips into a thin line and took a seat. Slouching against its back, he crossed his arms with the attitude of a moody teenager. Puzzles started shuffling the deck once more.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic, SMG4. The cards will be doing the talking, not me. They will be the ones that will see your past, present, and future."

Puzzles played the cards in every way he could with pizzazz, his limbs moving in complex motion. A peculiar dance of sorts. Despite it all, Four didn't appreciate him showing off. What are you up to, Mr Puzzles?

Mr Puzzles spreads the deck into a fan within his hand. "Just pick three. Let them see through your heart and soul."

Four did what he was told, leaving the cards he picked on the table. With a twist of his wrist, Puzzles made the rest of the deck disappear. The TV man picked up the first card, showing an image of Four's USB Pod.

Mr Puzzles says, "Now you, young Meme Guardian, were the original glitch, affecting time and space to the universe. Reality was rewritten by your presence."

Somehow, with a flip or the swipe of the card, Puzzles created a colored moving scene. Where once was a picture, it has changed. What once had a back was no more. It wasn't any pictures either, they were in a gentle watercolor. Almost as if they were a peek at Four's memories.

"You were fulfilled with the adventures you went through, the friends you gathered along the way."

As Four sees, there was now an old picture of the Crew...

"Even having a rival gave you a thrill."

...SMG4 and SMG3 in their classic models, looking at the other with hostility. Ready to go after each other's throats...

"Back then, you couldn't ask for anything more. After all, you had a dream... To make everyone happy."

On the final swipe, it showed Four's former self, looking over his shoulder with a smile. Ever so happy he was, editing a video in Peach's castle.

Four rolled his eyes. What does he know about his past? Nothing, that's what. But he couldn't deny it, it really was his dream. Nor was it something he tried to hide. Puzzles flip the second card, a picture of people crowding over a cowering Four. Their faces were replaced with large eyes.

"However, it came to a cost," Mr Puzzles reads. "To them, it was never enough. You could never forget all of the things they have said to you, the unimaginable. What is the point of art if it can not survive beyond its creator? What is love if not sacrifice?"

A bittersweet series of portraits came raining down, one on top of the other....

Desti.

Axol.

Terrence.

SMG0.

And...

"Your sacrifice."

Unlike the other cards, Four's portrait was in carbon charcoal, his sketchy face staring back at the living Four with immense paranoia and horror. Possessed. The only color it had was pink highlighting his scars and eyes.

"You were lost in your own potential, this addicting high... and you were saved by that man you called your rival."

With a swipe, Puzzles revealed the next picture: a smiling Three, appearing almost angelic with the light shined behind him, gently holding a broken Four into an embrace. Watercolor and charcoal, blended together like it was meant to be.

Four's gaze softens. He could never forget the 'perfect' incident. Endangering his friends, leaving Peach to a horrible fate. Ruining everything. All because he was selfish. And indeed, SMG3 saved him, in every way he can be saved. If only Four could do the same.

...Focus, Four. He's just trying to get into your head.

"No matter how much you apologized, it was never enough," Mr Puzzles continues on.

The picture changed to a white silhouette of Four against a dark background. Floating vertically right above his head were a series of glowing white lines. As if....

"Your burdens became your crown. As heavy as it was on your head, you remind yourself: 'at the worst of times is when you put your biggest smile'. But you wonder how long will it take your friends, your audience, to see through your lies."

With swipe, it changed to a Four smiling at the viewer. An empty smile but a smile nonetheless. Four reached for his right arm, once again by instinct. His body tensed. Was I too obvious? How did he...?

Puzzles paid no mind, picking up the last card and standing behind Four. "But don't fret, SMG4, for your future I see: your efforts won't be for nothing..." He presents the card over Four's shoulder for him to see. The final picture: Four standing proudly on a pedestal, a light shining behind him. "...for you to become the man you always wanted to be."

Four slowly takes the card from his hand, allowing Mr Puzzles to sit back where he was. Puzzles crossed his legs, steepling his fingers in anticipation. One might wonder what is going on in Four's head.

The truth is, Four didn't know himself. His mind was clouded, spiraling in thought. And yet it also went empty. He's fine but he felt like he was going to puke. Empowered by emotion but numb. Everything and nothing.

Awaken.

He tosses the card onto the table with a huff, tempting to hide his unease. "There. You read my future." Four gets up from the chair and starts to head out. He needed to get out. When he reaches for the curtain with his right hand, he looks back one last time to see Puzzles' nonchalant smile. "Now, do your end of the deal. You're lucky you get a head start."

As Four turns back around, Mr Puzzles hums as he nods, "Why, yes. I believe I should give you exactly what you want."

Just as SMG4 was about to leave, a sudden pain coursed through his fingers. Four let out blood-curdling screams, dropping to his knees and onto the floor. This agonizing sensation crawled up to his arm, he felt as though he was being boiled alive. Out of desperation, he took off his glove and rolled up his blue sleeve.

The secret that he kept under his clothes, they glowed pink. No one knew of the scars he'd gotten from the incident.

"How did... What did you do to me?" Four managed to ask, gritting his teeth through the pain.

"How naive." Unfazed by Four recoiling on the floor, he got up and picked up a prepared suitcase. "Did you really think I wouldn't have a plan if Marty failed to destroy your stupid friends?"

Four felt sick to his stomach and threw up what was clogging his lungs. To his horror, what he saw, was another secret. One he tried flushing away so many times before.

The black goo.

Its consistency was thick as slime, and it was as dark as ink. Just as how he remembered. Puking his insides out in the toilet, hiding the worst parts from his friends.

Only this time, it had eyes, all sketchy and glowing. And they looked back at him.

"I needed a failsafe, and what better option than my fellow showman?" Mr Puzzles gives a wink. "Don't forget: you and I, we're entertainers. The audience demands for more, SMG4."

From the shadows of the candlelight, the red eldritch creature emerged, its appearance quite familiar for the two men as it was the same one that consumed the old castle and corrupted Peach. To Four's surprise, a tentacle reached for Mr Puzzles and he responded back with a friendly pat. As if it was a pet.

As if it was part of him.

The pink veins have reached to Four's neck, his cries being caught in the burning sensation.

"We made sacrifices to keep them happy," Mr Puzzles reiterates, walking over to Four. "Memory and body were the cost I had to pay to be eternal alongside my creation. I understand this must be painful and death may be a mercy, but what good will that do?" He stops before the man in pain and kneels down to meet his blue eyes.

Four rolled himself over from his back, his forearms trying to hold him up. Four's voice cracked, "B-but it's impossible! The keyboard is gone, along with Peach's castle!"

"Oh, SMG4." Mr Puzzles' face to a bloody red with realistic eyes and grin. "It never left. What other explanation is there when you need a second more of speed, a hand of strength, or your good aim?" Puzzles reached for the black goo but it squirmed away, hissing. "Though, I never understood why my own creation hated me, and chose you as its host. Not that it's my problem anymore."

Puzzles stands up, wiping away the inexistent dust off of his clothes, before heading towards the exit with his suitcase. The red creature shrunk down and slithered in-between the wires of his body.

Four winced, "You... liar..."

"I haven't told a single lie. I gave you your future and I'm giving you what you wanted: a chance to become the man you always wanted to be. You had unimaginable power right between your fingers and you foolishly gave it all up for him. Hmm. I suppose, if I put it that way, I can see why he did the same for you."

Four's body begged for the end of its pain, his limbs twisting and turning in all the wrong ways. He could hear the sound of cracking from his bones. His clogged-up lungs searched for air as the veins spread across his eyes. The goo he puked immediately noticed the vulnerability of its host, desperately slithering toward him.

His eyes fully turned magenta.

"Oh, don't worry, I'll leave the Mushroom Kingdom. Whatever you end up doing to your friends, it's their blood in your hands," Mr Puzzles said, his voice glitching to mimic a chuckle. "Now, may I remind you: I get a head start."

Puzzles leaves the tent with a wicked laugh, a gust of wind from his exit blows the candles out.

Four calls out, "Puzzles.... When I get...."

He could feel the goo slithering up his severe wounds. It whispered, dozens of voices merged together into a mess of words. He tried everything to get this thing off of him but it only made the goo consume more of his body.

The host must survive.

Suddenly, hallucinations of the Crew appeared. He tried to reach out, pleading to be saved. Their vacant smiles were the only response. One by one, they faded away as the goo dripped from his mouth and the corners of his eyes, like they were tears.

Meggy... Mario...

...Three.

I never wanted this!

But this is what you asked for. P̶͖͙͕͓̒͘é̴̖̔r̶̼̱̰̼̰̂͐͒͘f̶̞̐͗́̓̄͜e̴̬̮̜͕̻̐̈̋͑̈́c̴̢̛̅̂t̸̢͓̩̹͒͠i̷̲͈̪̱͐͋̔͝o̷͈̎̃͗̚n̸̘͌͆͐.̸̡̣̋̌

✧-✧-✧

[To be continued // Part 2]

#smg4 #:)#smg4 mario #smg4 marty #smg4 meggy #smg4 bob #smg4 karen #smg4 smg3 #smg34 #< implied #ink episode concepts #👁️

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