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[wallpapers4screen]

[angelsfat3]

꽃.ㅤㅤ( 𝓓𝑟𝖊𝒶𝒎 ) ／ㅤ𝓝𝖔ᆞᆞᆞ24．

𝖧𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗇𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌𝗇'𝗍, 𝖺𝗍 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝖡𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎.ㅤ／ㅤ 𝑠𝑡𝑢𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑡!𝑆𝑢𝑛𝑔𝒉𝑜𝑜𝑛, 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑔𝑒 𝑎𝑢, 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑐𝑘/𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑝𝑒, 𝑑𝑢𝑚𝑏!𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟, 𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑐 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑑𝑦?, 𝑠𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑙.ㅤ٭ㅤ危险──𝑃𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑔 𝑆𝑢𝑛𝑔𝒉𝑜𝑜𝑛, 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑎𝑐𝑐𝑒𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝒉𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑎𝑡 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡, 𝑗𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑦 (𝑏𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑡𝑜𝑢𝑐𝒉𝑒𝑑), '𝒉𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑡𝒉𝑦' 𝑜𝑏𝑠𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛, 𝑠𝑒𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑡 𝑎𝑑𝑚𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑟, 𝑒𝑡𝑐.

The crisp night air from the Han River brushed against your face as you walked alongside Sunghoon. The sky had darkened into a deep shade of blue, the last rays of sunlight finally fading beyond the horizon. Now, only the scattered streetlights illuminated the streets, their glow reflecting off the water, giving the city an oddly calming, almost cozy atmosphere—despite the cold. It was a quiet night, almost perfect.

Except for the strange sensation creeping up your spine.

Sunghoon was silent.

He was never silent. He was always teasing you about some embarrassing memory—yours—claiming he had captured it in a photo or video, shoving it in your face and laughing.

You turned to him, walking backward as you rambled about something entirely trivial, but the seriousness in his eyes made you pause. The way he pressed his lips together, the way his hands remained buried in his jacket pockets—it wasn’t like him.

You figured he was probably still trying to process the stupid order you had placed on Temu, something you already regretted buying. But Sunghoon didn’t laugh. He didn’t make his usual mocking remark. He just looked at you with an unreadable expression, far too serious for him.

And then, without warning, he said it.

"I’m in love with you."

You blinked.

"I thought they were dick shaped earri—what?"

Sunghoon didn’t even flinch at how utterly embarrassing that moment was. His dark eyes remained fixed on you, and his voice was lower, steadier than you had ever heard it before.

"I’ve liked you since the first time I saw you. Since we became friends. Since… basically forever."

The night breeze blew between you, but the silence that followed was even louder. The sound of water, the distant hum of cars—they all seemed to ring in your ears.

You stood there, struggling to process his words, while Sunghoon watched you with a mix of nervousness and determination, though there was a flicker of impatience in the way he shrugged.

What the hell were you supposed to say now?

Maybe we should go... a little too far back to understand.

Like, for example, the first time you ever spoke to Sunghoon—because you had no other choice.

It wasn’t like you hated him or anything, but from the moment he walked into the classroom, radiating that almost unbearably sociable energy that matched his friends', you knew the two of you couldn’t be more different.

Him, with his dazzling smile and that outgoing attitude—strangely quiet when he was alone—was like a blazing sun, his laughter loud enough to echo across a basketball court, impossible to ignore. Meanwhile, you, a gray cloud, preferred to fade into the background, tucked away in the corner of the classroom, drowning out the world with music in your headphones, just waiting for the day to end so you could go home and rest.

Maybe that was the one thing you had in common...

Anyway.

Sunghoon took his seat, scanning the class with that over-the-top confident look, like he already knew everyone admired him, even the teachers. Then, just as you started pulling out your book, the teacher made an announcement:

"Alright, for this class… we’ll just be starting a project. Your partners will be assigned randomly."

The sound of crumpling paper and pages flipping filled the room as the teacher began reading off names. And, as if the universe had decided to play a cruel joke on you, the very last name?

Yours.

"[…], your partner will be Sunghoon."

Sunghoon perked up immediately, drawing attention from everyone around him as he clapped loudly. It wasn’t unusual for him to be chatty in class, but this time, there was a particular energy to him. He turned to you, and the moment he did, his expression shifted.

"Finally!" he said enthusiastically, exhaling lightly as he settled back into his seat. "Finally, it’s my turn to use the genius. So I guess that means you’ll be doing all the work, and I’ll just slap my name on it at the end, right, [...]?"

You didn’t respond immediately, partly because of the way a few people turned to stare at you so openly. You simply observed him in silence over the rim of your glasses, hoping—somehow—that his attitude would change. It didn’t. Instead, Sunghoon kept chatting and laughing with his friends like he didn’t have a single worry in the world.

"Relax, relax. I’m kidding, I’m kidding." He leaned forward across the table, shooting you a playful look from across the room. "I’m not as lazy as my brother."

Even though you tried not to let his attitude get to you, something about the way he spoke made you hesitate. Why was he so loud? What did he want? What did he mean by ‘use the genius’?

That was… the first of many times Sunghoon would do everything in his power to get closer to you. In his own weird way.

At first, you saw him as nothing more than your project partner—someone who, for whatever reason, needed to be annoying, teasing you only to make up for it later by buying you breakfast and hovering around you. But then, something strange started happening.

"Okay, okay... I swear I’ll delete the photo. How about lunch at the cafeteria? I’ll buy you whatever you want. But, uh… my friends and my brother will be there. They’re kinda loud. That okay?"

It wasn’t like you couldn’t survive eating alone, but something about his insistence unsettled you. Instead of rejecting him like you normally did—even with your own friends—you found yourself accepting. Like a part of you also wanted to understand why Sunghoon was so persistent, so bothersome when it came to you.

The next time was even stranger. He found you alone in the library—like always—surrounded by a stack of books that seemed more than enough to keep you occupied. After all, you had to finish your part of the oh-so-important project.

"Doesn’t it make you sleepy, being here all day?" he asked with a smirk, hands tucked into his pockets. You looked at him, even surprising yourself as you caught your own reflection in the window. You had no idea what he wanted, but Sunghoon seemed genuinely interested in hanging out with you—though he acted like he was being forced to.

"Not when my grade actually matters to me," you muttered, hoping to be curt enough to make him leave. But instead of getting offended, he pulled out the chair beside you and sat down.

"Well… I care about mine, too. Let’s just finish the damn project."

That was what confused you the most—his casual indifference and the way he was so... different from what you expected.

Because Sunghoon wasn’t just a pretty face or an extrovert when he was around his friends. He was something else. Something you couldn’t quite figure out yet… or maybe you could, but even your conclusions only left you with more questions than answers.

And after a few weeks—even after finishing the project, when you could no longer ignore what was happening—you started noticing little things he did, things only for you.

Like how, when he thought no one was watching, he’d glance at you with an expression full of… too many emotions at once: fondness, concern, even a little bit of warmth. Or how, whenever he dropped something—be it money or food—he’d always pass it to you without a word, like it was the most natural thing in the world for you to always be there.

And worst of all? You started feeling it, too.

You started feeling comfortable with him. With his presence.

And it pissed you off. It really pissed you off.

Sunghoon, with his deep laugh, his stupidly attractive smile, his way of being so… too careful and quiet around anyone else, made you feel like you had a front-row seat to everything that he was. But despite that, something about him kept you there. Something made you doubt your own walls.

Ignoring it was impossible, and in the end, Sunghoon had gone from being just that annoying guy to becoming a constant presence in your life. Your closest friend.

And the worst part? You weren’t sure if you wanted him to leave anymore.

You didn’t even want to think about it—because just the thought of it made your eyes sting.

… Well, as I was saying.

Each day seemed to weave a strange web of brief, almost imperceptible moments that gradually began to hold great significance between the two of you.

You were walking toward the cafeteria, lost in your thoughts and music, when suddenly—there he was. Sunghoon, waiting at the door with his arms crossed. His usual energy hit you immediately, in a good way, but today, despite his festive expression, there was a spark of something in his gaze that you couldn’t quite place.

“You’ve been… what? Two days? Showing up late,” he said teasingly, though the glint in his eyes hinted at concern. “Everything okay?”

You honestly didn’t feel like justifying yourself, so you simply shrugged in response. As you approached, you noticed something odd—his friends were keeping their distance. Even they seemed to have learned that Sunghoon had this… particularly possessive way of looking after what he cared about. In this case, you.

During lunch, like any other day since that (un)fortunate moment, Sunghoon sat beside you. Though this time, you opted to keep a little distance. He, as if he instinctively knew you wanted that exact space between you—an emptiness resisting being filled—chose to talk about anecdotes from the previous day, laughing and making casual comments about how he had mocked kids slipping on the ice rink.

But in the middle of the conversation, you felt how his hand briefly brushed against yours or how he’d occasionally squeeze your shoulder—fleeting touches that vanished before you could react, as if he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

At first, you didn’t pay much attention. You figured it was probably just his natural way of being—a habit he shared with his friends, one that had been there since the beginning. However, as days passed, those gestures became more frequent.

One afternoon, after class, you weren’t in the mood to socialize or be in a crowded space, so you ended up in the library. The atmosphere was quiet, the air conditioning let you wear your favorite hoodie, and the soft light filtered through the windows, creating that vibe you loved when taking pictures of empty hallways.

You were so deep in thought that you didn’t hear the sound of oddly loud footsteps approaching. But when you looked up, you already knew who it was. He didn’t even ask this time—he just sat next to you in silence, sighing as he dropped his backpack onto the floor.

At first, you thought he had something ridiculously stupid to say or that he had just realized you weren’t with him on campus. But as minutes passed, you noticed that, without interrupting whatever you were doing, he simply pulled out a small notebook and started writing. He didn’t dare look at you much, but every now and then, he’d glance up, watching for your reaction.

“… What are you writing?” you finally asked, giving in to curiosity—because you knew that’s exactly what he was waiting to hear.

“Oh? Nothing special, just… a few scribbles,” he replied with that straight-lined smile that always threw you off.

You didn’t know whether to take it as a joke or if there was actually something more behind those “scribbles.” But the feeling that, with each passing day, he was getting a little more serious—that he was trying to get just a few inches closer than before—was starting to affect you in ways you hadn’t expected.

The following week, during one of those long walks back to the dorms that had now become routine, Sunghoon was even more attentive.

He noticed the smallest details—how you tripped over a stone, how your shoelaces got dirty because you didn’t tie them tight enough, the way your words stumbled when you were nervous, tired, or lost in thought. He noticed how your eyes lit up when talking about your interests or the most nonsensical stories. Every time, he made sure to remind you that you were always on his mind, even if you still didn’t realize it.

During one of those walks, while the sun had set, stars were slowly appearing, and the apartment lights flickered to life, Sunghoon muttered under his breath:

“Should I send them already…?”

The question hung in the air, suspended between the sound of your footsteps, the way your fingers searched for your keys, and the unusually fast beating of your heart. But before you could say goodbye or thank him for walking with you, he was already gone.

In the distance, you saw him descending the stairs, leaving you there—floating in unresolved thoughts.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The weeks kept slipping by, caught between routine and Sunghoon’s strange behavior—which was… intensifying, if we wanted to be dramatic. You could say it became a little more noticeable with every passing second. You couldn’t quite put your finger on how, but each day seemed to add a new entry to your “weird things Sunghoon does” list, which you kept neatly in your notes.

For example, a few days ago you found a letter in your locker. A red envelope, your name written in flawless handwriting—though it looked suspiciously familiar. When you opened it, the scent that hit you was strong, overwhelming even—your nostrils burned a little—but what really threw you off was the content:

“Your eyes are the lanterns that light the darkness of my path. Every time I see you, the air feels lighter. When will you realize how I feel about you? Do I have to keep pretending I don’t? How much longer do I have to wait?”

Your first thought was that it had to be a joke from the basketball idiots. You looked around, expecting to see a group of classmates laughing in a corner, but everything seemed normal—just people coming out of classrooms or making out in the hallways.

That afternoon at the cafeteria, you ran into Sunghoon, who—as always—already had a coffee waiting for you in his cold hand.

“Here, just the way you like it. God, I’m the best friend in the world. What would you even do if you’d never met me?” he said with a grin as he slid the cup toward you.

“Uh-huh… thanks. Hey, did I tell you I’ve got a secret admirer? Literally came out of nowhere,” you said absentmindedly, pulling the letter from your pocket and waving it in front of him before taking a sip of the coffee.

Sunghoon froze. Completely. His face went through several emotions in under a second—surprise, horror, and finally a way-too-wide smile that showed just a little too much of his canines.

“Oh… really? That’s… good,” he replied, drinking his coffee so fast he nearly choked on the steam escaping his mouth. “And what are you planning to do about it?... Gonna go looking for him?”

“Nah... or I don’t know, maybe I’ll just drop it. I mean, who writes dramatic stuff like ‘your eyes are the lanterns that light the darkness of my path’ in 2025?” you laughed, not noticing how Sunghoon’s smile twitched for a split second. “Either he’s super desperate to get laid or it was just a lame prank... Plus, it reeks of your perfume.”

“WHAT?!”

“Yeah, it’s the same one you use every day. I knew it because I got the same headache while reading the letter.”

There was a moment of absolute silence while you quietly chuckled, watching him wipe the coffee he’d spilled on himself. Sunghoon stared at you like his whole life flashed before his eyes. Then he cleared his throat, trying to pull himself together.

“Uh… well, maybe your 'secret admirer' wears the same perfume as me. It’s popular with the guys on campus.”

“Really? What a coincidence…”

Sunghoon laughed nervously and changed the subject with the subtlety of an elephant in a dollhouse. But from that day on, the “anonymous gifts” started showing up more often. And got more creative.

One day, you found a t-shirt on your desk with the phrase “My impossible love is an idiot who hasn’t noticed.” You just shoved it under your backpack without thinking much about it, assuming someone had left it there by accident—after all, it was February. Definitely a mistake… right?

Another day, Sunghoon showed up with a box of chocolates. The day before Valentine’s.

“I saw these while I was out getting new glasses and thought of you. I know how much you love almond chocolate,” he said, handing them over with his usual flat smile.

“Oh, thanks. I’ll eat them later.”

“But don’t get any weird ideas, okay? I just want everyone to see I’m the best friend ever.”

“Sure.”

And that’s how it went the whole month. Little things that anyone with common sense would take as obvious signs of interest or flirting. But you, with a remarkable (or desperately dumb) lack of intuition, just chalked it up to “Sunghoon being Sunghoon.”

Until the day Sunghoon almost exploded.

You remember it perfectly—you were walking together after class, the sunset was so pretty that Sunghoon was taking pictures and videos of the view, until one of your classmates came over and offered to walk you home.

“Oh… thanks, but I’m already going with hoon. We live pretty close.”

“We could all go together, if you want,” the guy offered with a small smile, adjusting the strap of his backpack.

Before you could respond, Sunghoon casually draped his arm over your shoulders like it was something he did every day.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. Maybe next time,” he said with a smile that was really just him pressing his lips together.

The guy glanced at the gesture, seemed to evaluate the situation, then muttered a quiet “okay” before nodding and walking off.

When you looked back at Sunghoon, you noticed his jaw was clenched and his brow was slightly furrowed.

“You good?”

“Yeah, all good. Just… something about that guy’s face rubbed me the wrong way. Another second and I’d have punched him.”

“… Huh?”

“Nothing, nothing. Just joking,” he replied quickly, turning his gaze back to the sunset.

However, that night, when you were alone together on the rooftop of the dorm building, Sunghoon hugged you tighter than usual, burying his nose into your neck and gripping your shirt like he was holding on for dear life.

“Hey, what’s up with you today?”

“What? There’s nothing wrong… I just… like being like this with you. I’m cold, and you’re warm.”

His voice was oddly deeper and more serious than usual. For the first time in a while, something about his tone made the weight of his words hit differently.

And yes, it was still weird, because the days since that moment flew by even faster. The vibe between you two didn’t change drastically, but yeah… it got a little heavier—for him, more quiet at times, more charged. Like the words Sunghoon wasn’t saying were constantly floating between you, in his eyes, and in the way his hands would curl into a soft fist.

And you, well… you still didn’t connect the dots.

Though, you did start noticing little things he’d already been doing—but now they’d increased just a bit more.

Sunghoon no longer just brought you coffee; now he showed up with your favorite breakfast packed in a small lunchbox, claiming, “my mom just happened to make it and I reheated it.” He started sending longer messages than usual, things like “this better be the last time you leave without a sweater, the sky looks cloudy and I don’t want you catching a cold, dummy,” or “you look cuter when you smile, so drop that grumpy ass face for a sec.”

Every time someone else tried talking to you with a flirty undertone, he showed up. Always with a perfectly valid excuse. He needed your notes. He couldn’t find his phone. He “just thought of you” or said you guys simply had to leave already.

And then, as if that weren’t enough, one morning you found a red box wrapped in golden paper right outside your dorm door. Inside was a soft cream-brown scarf, with your initials embroidered on the edges. This time, there wasn’t a letter—just a tiny note that read:

“I didn’t buy this for you to think of me. It’s so you think of yourself… when it’s cold and you forget your favorite hoodie.”

You wore it the next day, not thinking too much of it—plus, the cold front had just started. That was when Sunghoon saw you arriving, and his ears went completely red. He stared at you like you were the cutest thing in the universe.

“Aww.”

“What?” you asked, lowering your phone, one eyebrow raised.

“Nothing… It’s just that color looks really good on you. You look cute,” he mumbled, glancing away.

You didn’t really know what to say to that. So you just walked beside him, quietly, until you both stopped at the bus stop.

That same day, while waiting for the crowd to clear, Sunghoon suddenly said:

“Today’s the day. I’m sure of it.”

“Huh?”

You looked at him, but he only smiled and said he’d tell you later. You tried to get more out of him, but he wouldn’t say anything else. Very unlike him.

The next day, you found an “anonymous” letter in your backpack. Written in handwriting suspiciously identical to his, and with that same citrusy, strong perfume only he wore—the one that smelled like expensive soap and something sweet. It said stuff like, “How do you get inside my head like this? You drive me insane. You’re my favorite drink during a scorching summer.”

Obviously, you thought it was a joke. You brought it up during lunch, laughing as you waved the paper in front of him.

“You think this is real? I honestly thought it was just a joke, you know, Valentine’s Day and all that crap.”

Sunghoon choked on his juice.

“W-what? Another letter? No way, maybe it’s that weirdo from your class... Who knows, right?” Then he added, looking down, “I wish it was me...”

You didn’t hear that part. You were too busy rereading the note.

And so the weeks went on.

You, confused. Him, desperate because you just. don’t. GET IT.

Even your friends started commenting on it. One of them straight-up asked if you were dating Sunghoon already. You laughed. Said he was like that with all his close friends. Just super clingy and affectionate. A little too intense and introverted, maybe. But sweet.

What you didn’t know was that Sunghoon overheard that while coming back with another cup of tea. And that night, in his room, he stared at the ceiling for hours, with a sadness in his chest he didn’t know how to ease.

“Do you really think that about me… baby?”

But the next day, he went back to bothering you like always. Throwing you that warm look he kept only for you.

And just like that, we arrive at the present.

How was it again? Ah, right. That cool night by the Han River.

The night you two had been walking for what felt like miles, in circles along the riverside, with the crisp air brushing against your skin and messing up your hair, the sky blanketed in stars and the soft murmur of flowing water in the background, almost like a soundtrack made just for you.

You were the one talking nonstop for once, you were the one starting the conversation and not shutting up, animatedly ranting about the dumb stuff you’d bought just because you didn’t know what else to spend your money on. Sunghoon was listening with his hands tucked in his pockets, wearing that lopsided smile he only showed when you got so into something, you forgot the world around you. Even him—for just a few seconds.

“I’m in love with you.”

The words hit like a splash of cold water against bare skin. They sent a shiver down your spine the moment the sentence ended.

You stopped walking.

He did too.

He ran a hand over his forehead, messing up his hair just slightly, and for a second, his eyes searched for yours—fragile, like he wasn’t sure if he’d just done the bravest thing or the dumbest thing in the world. Probably the second one. But still.

And you…

You went blank.

You felt something rush through your whole body, something you couldn’t quite explain. The silence suddenly felt heavier, and the way your lips parted ever so slightly only made things more obvious.

You didn’t want to reject him. You just didn’t know how to process words that direct. Still, you knew you couldn’t just leave him hanging, so all you managed to say was:

“…What?”

You repeated it maybe twice more, blinking like he’d just spoken to you in another language.

Sunghoon swallowed hard. For the first time, you saw him nervous. And not the kind of nervous like when he’s late to class or his phone dies. No. Really nervous. He scratched the back of his neck and took a deep breath.

“I said… I’m in love with you. Have been for months now. Maybe since the first time you stood in front of the class in that ridiculous sweater that looked like a grandma’s bedsheet... I don’t know. I liked you. And then they paired us for that project, and I thought, ‘this is my chance.’ Then we became friends... and you just kept being you and…”

He clicked his tongue, frustrated with himself, shaking his head slightly while laughing bitterly.

“And it’s not just... like, physical attraction. It’s like…”

He made a vague gesture with his hand, as if trying to pull the words from mid-air, clenching his fist to his chest, furrowing his brows as he looked at you again.

“It’s like it hurts. Like something’s missing every time I see you smile or trash those letters, not knowing it’s me, the idiot who’s been leaving them with my favorite perfume, or giving you dumb little gifts, or scaring off anyone who looks at you for more than two seconds.”

He looked right at you. Deep. You felt his gaze pierce into your memories, like he wanted to reshape them until they only had room for him. His eyes—honest, a little wounded, shining under the river lights, and maybe from something else, too. Relief, maybe.

“I’m in love with you. And I’m getting tired of pretending to be some unanswered secret admirer—of not being... seen.”

Your heart skipped again. Literally. Like something inside of you twisted and spun, like a hurricane swallowing any thought or coherent word you had left.

“This is a joke, right?”

Sunghoon laughed. On the verge of a breakdown and an existential crisis.

“You think I’d waste money on cheesy stuff as a joke? After bringing you coffee with bear doodles on the lid, buying you that shirt that literally said ‘I like you’ and you still wore it without suspecting a thing? After defending you from that basketball guy like it was some scene out of those dramas you like? After hugging you tighter than usual?”

He threw his arms out, as if out of ideas. Because he was out of ideas. It was now or never.

“What else do I have to do, huh? Sing you love songs at campus karaoke? Confess over the loudspeaker? Tattoo your name on my ass? Kiss you? Set you as my wallpaper?”

He had you.

You stared at him. Still blank. Your brain was buffering like a giant file trying to open on a Nokia.

And suddenly, as if your mouth moved before your mind caught up, you heard yourself say:

“Wasn’t it the barista who drew the little hearts on the coffee?”

Sunghoon let out this high, broken, borderline offended laugh. Absolutely done.

“You—YOU THOUGHT IT WAS THE BARISTA?!”

“Well, I mean… he had nice handwriting and—”

“THAT WAS MY HANDWRITING!”

He went silent, placing his hands on his hips and turning around like he needed to reset himself. Took a deep, frustrated breath.

You also took a breath, staring down at the ground. How dumb could you be? Everything you said only made things worse because the truth was… you’d been dodging his feelings.

For a moment, the only sound was the running water and the distant hum of the city.

Until Sunghoon sighed.

“You know something, [...]? It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. I just... needed you to know. It’s been eating me alive.”

And then he looked down. Like the confession had slipped out of his hands for good, becoming a memory that would burn itself into his mind forever.

You looked at him differently. Let’s say... in a new light. Because the truth is, you had always felt something for him. After all, he’s Park fucking Sunghoon.

But seriously, for the first time, you felt like that “slightly annoying guy” with too much energy… had maybe, just maybe, gotten too deep under your skin. Into your memories. Into all of you.

Into your heart.

As (not) expected, Sunghoon didn’t wait for your answer. He just nodded, dropping his gaze like his shoulders suddenly got heavier.

“Just... forget it, okay?” he murmured, turning around. “I didn’t want to ruin what we had. Even if I’m in love with you, your friendship was—and is—way too good. I just… needed to get it off my chest.”

His steps echoed softly on the cobblestone path. One, two, three... walking away without looking back, his eyes starting to redden, his hands buried in his pockets like he was trying to shield himself from a cold that wasn’t coming from the weather anymore.

And you? You were still frozen there, feet glued to the sidewalk, heart pounding so hard it actually hurt. Everything started to make sense. The notes, the personalized coffees, his ridiculously long hugs and how he’d bury his face in your neck, the weird comments like "that guy gives me bad vibes" whenever you talked to someone else, and the “joking” compliments he’d throw your way.

Holy shit!! Sunghoon was in love with you!! What a fucking surprise. Wow.

You bit your lip, staring at his silhouette getting further away, no clue what the hell you were supposed to say. You just clenched your fists at your sides, your arms trembling from the pressure. But then—again—your body moved before your brain did. An impulse. A small spark of courage burst from inside you.

“Sunghoon!”

He stopped. Slowly turned just a bit, like he couldn’t fully bring himself to look back—especially not after being on the verge of tears.

“I like you too...!” you shouted, your voice trembling a little. “A bit... maybe?”

And it was like the world stopped for a few minutes. Or hours.

Sunghoon turned all the way around, raising an eyebrow.

“What did you just say?”

You shrank a little, unable to keep eye contact.

“I don’t know. It’s just…” you laughed nervously. “You’re dumb. And annoying. And you’re always all over me. But now that I think about it, I like being around you. I like... your presence. I like your scent. I like knowing you’ll always be here... with me. I guess that counts as liking you, right?”

He looked at you. First surprised. Then… something like hope. And then, slowly, that smile formed on his face. That smile. The one he only showed when he was genuinely happy. The one that only came out when he talked about something that truly mattered to him.

“A bit?”

He repeated, lifting an eyebrow as he stepped closer, lighter now.—“That’s all I get after almost tattooing your face?”

“You didn’t even know how to draw until I made you join the art club,”—you rolled your eyes.

“But I tried! I had a whole sketchbook full of ugly drawings. One looked like a broken butthole but still I—”

“Shut up!”

“Well... I like you way more than ‘a bit,’” he said softly.

And there he was again. So close. Just like always. Only this time, you really saw him—like, really saw him—with different... eyes?

Sunghoon didn’t do anything else. He didn’t touch you, didn’t hug you, didn’t lunge in for a kiss like in the movies. He just looked at you, with that mix of relief and joy that looked like it was going to stay for a while.

“So... can I buy you an ice cream?” he asked suddenly, like you were just back on a normal school day.

You huffed, crossing your arms.

“That’s what you do after confessing your love for me?”

“You stopped me with a ‘maybe I like you a little.’ I don’t think you’re in a position to judge.”

“... Idiot,” you muttered.

“I heard that. Still like you though.”

Then you walked beside him, after intertwining your fingers, heart now beating in a completely different way. And, obviously, after all that, he started teasing you about your shopping habits.

But even his teasing and lame jokes felt warm. Something that—even if you didn’t fully understand yet—you knew was going to change everything.

You’d have a future with him. A beautiful one.

Ah… love is such a beautiful thing, right?

You walked in silence for a while. Not the awkward kind, but a peaceful one—ironically full of a strange feeling you couldn’t quite describe every time he squeezed your hand or leaned closer. Sunghoon’s eyes were squinting from a goofy smile that made him look like he’d just walked out of a teen romance movie.

“So… are you really gonna want that ice cream?” he asked again, tilting his head toward you.

“Well, last I checked… I already said yes, didn’t I?”

“Mmm, last I checked, you just called me ‘idiot’ and started walking next to me. That’s not exactly a ‘yes,’ you know.”

You just sighed, chuckling under your breath and giving a small nod. “Fine then. Yes. I want ice cream. But only if you’re paying.”

Sunghoon let out a soft laugh.

“Of course I’m paying. What kind of suitor would I be if I didn’t buy you a 4,500 won ice cream?”

“I’m not gonna suck you off on the first date.”

“Wh—HEY!”

And just like that, you both arrived at a small shop still open nearby. He ordered your favorite flavor without even asking. He already knew. He probably knew you better than you knew yourself by now.

“I can’t believe you know I like chocolate chips on both the bottom and the top.” you murmured, taking the little ice cream cup with a mix of awkwardness and affection.

“Are you kidding? I know how you like your coffee, your tteokbokki, your instant ramen. I even know you eat chocolates in a specific order—first the ugly-wrapped ones so you don’t have to deal with them last, then the gold ones, and you save the strawberry ones for the end even though you say you don’t like them that much. Plus, you always roll your eyes in that exact way when the food—”

“Okay…?” you laughed nervously, scooping a bit of the ice cream with the plastic spoon.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I sound like a psycho or some obsessive freak. But I like you… Did I tell you that already? I like you. A lot. Like a lot a lot.”

You said it softly, but couldn’t help smiling. “Yeah, you’ve said that quite a few times now.”

“And you? Gonna say it back sometime?”

You took another spoonful of your ice cream and played dumb.

“Nope. I wanna act all mysterious and emo right now.”

Sunghoon made an offended face. It was hilarious how he furrowed his brows and gasped so dramatically.

“Wow, after telling me you like me ‘a little’ with your face all red, now you’re playing hard to get?”

“A little… is mostly because… I’m still kind of shy. Not with you! Just… with myself. I haven’t really processed this yet.”

He looked at you for a moment like he wanted to memorize every detail of you, of that exact moment.

“Well, that’s okay… I’ll give you time. But just so you know, I’m officially declaring myself your future boyfriend.”

“…Don’t I get a say in this?”

“You just eat your ice cream. I’ll take care of loving you.”

And then, you said it without really thinking:

“You’re insane.”

“Your insane.”

You didn’t really know how to reply to that last line. Because, for the first time, that word—“your”—didn’t sound weird, or awkward. It felt… right.

It felt good knowing he was yours, just like you were slowly becoming his.

And as you both walked back to the dorms, with your ice creams practically melting and your shoulders brushing with every step, you knew everything was about to change for the better. That nothing would ever be the same again—and that you didn’t want it to be.

That right there… that’s when it all began.

For better.

Or for worse.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ݁⠀⠀،،⠀⠀메모 ! ㅤ⸻ㅤ Hello. HEHH, I never thought it would take so long, however I had things to do outside of Tumblr, plus it took me a few days to delete and rewrite the story because I didn't really like (not yet) everything in general. Anyway! The story isn't that well reviewed, so if you see any mistakes, please bully me and let me know. 🙂‍↕️︐⠀📍

⠀𝒊. ⠀─⠀ All credits to @angelsfat3 / @foschiamara ⠀𝄒

. . . ₍⠀아이디어 !ㅤ⸻ㅤfeel free to leave requests! <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>⠀₎⠀ ִֶָ

˖⠀⠀ ݁⠀©⠀،،⠀If you liked it you can like, follow me or reblog!!

[rainyorca]

I'll swim down with you 𓇼 Kenji Sato X Reader

Content warnings: F!reader, Established relationship, childhood friends, kissing, fluff, a little bit of smut.

Words: 1,916

Notes: Rewatching Ultraman made me realize that Kenji does in fact have pools on his deck but I don't know if they're meant to be swam in, however, i really wanted to write something involving them soooo…..I am very deeply in love with this man and have seen this movie more times than I’ve seen my dad this summer.

𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼

The setting sun casts beautiful rays of golden light on the Earth, blanketing everything in warmth. It’s mid-June, which means baseball season is at its all-time high right now. For Kenji, it’s rather exciting but for you, it’s a little upsetting. You don’t get to spend as much time with him anymore due to practice and his games, but you still attend his games, all of them in fact as long as your work schedule doesn't overlap. As well as his duties as Ultraman, sometimes you don't even get to have him in bed next to you. 

You sit in one of the pools on his wooden deck, bathing in sunlight. You like to sit in the water and watch the sunset over the ocean, the view is out of this world. It's one of the many things you like about living with him. Ken is currently at practice, which he has practically been at all day in your mind, then again you left for work early this morning so you haven't seen him at all today. You close your eyes, sinking further into the pool and letting your head rest on the edge. The wood is smooth beneath your head, but you slide your hands under your head for more cushion. There's music playing softly in the background, one of your favorite songs from your favorite playlist. This was your idea of relaxing after work, especially with such a hectic day you had. 

“Ken is home,” Mina’s voice erupts softly from behind you, making you jump. You turn around to face the floating supercomputer. “I'm sorry, did not mean to startle you,” she says, her tone flat as usual. “It's okay,” you smile softly, “thank you for letting me know, Mina.” The floating circle gives you a nod before flying off to greet Kenji. You turn back to the sunset, waiting for Kenji to come by. You can hear him talking to Mina inside but it stops momentarily before starting up again. Kenji’s footsteps could be heard approaching you now, but you're too lost in thought to turn around or even notice.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asks, you can practically hear the smile in his voice. You turn around, smiling when you see him. “I’d enjoy it a lot more if you joined me,” you respond, tilting your head at him. He shakes his head with a smile, “I know, that's why I put my swim trunks on.” You watch him lift his shirt over his head, the golden light hitting his toned body perfectly. He looks warm, and the light makes his skin look supple and soft. He dips his feet in the water, pulling back from the slightly coldness but slowly easing himself in. The water isn’t too deep, he can stand perfectly straight and it only goes to his waist. He rests his back against the edge just like your doing but he follows your movements when you turn around to face the sun. He squints a little, turning his head to look at you rather than the bright sun. “How was your day?” he asks, his voice as soft as silk. You peer into his big gray eyes, resting your head on your hands again. “Hetic,” you respond simply, “How was practice?”

He picks up on the simplicity of your answer quickly, dropping the subject knowing you don't want to go into detail. “Practice was good, but I was a little distracted today,” he responds, reaching up and brushing a water droplet off your face only to get more on you. “Why’s that?” you ask, giggling softly at his failed attempt. “Because I kept thinking about you,” he smiles, almost teasingly because he knows what you’re gonna say. “You’re so corny,” you scoff, smiling brightly, “why were you really distracted?” He shrugs, “I'm serious, I was thinking about you.” There's humor in his voice and his expression is rather playful. You roll your eyes, turning your head to face the sun again. 

His eyes linger on you for a moment, taking in the softness of your face and admiring how your eyes look in the sunlight. A few thoughts from the past show up in his mind, like how upset you were when you found out he had to move back to Japan, or the sweet moments in high school when you went to all the school dances with him. You have always been a special person in his life and for so long, he feels rather grateful that you're back in his life as his lover rather than just a friend. He snakes a hand around your waist, turning you around so you're facing him and not the sun. Your back is pressed up against the edge again and he's standing in front of you, staring down into your eyes. 

“You’re so warm,” he says softly, running his hands up your exposed torso. “I’ve been out here a while,” you respond, reaching up and resting your arms on his broad shoulders. “I can tell,” he hums, reaching up to cup your face with his large, wet hand. “You’re warm too,” you point out, tilting your head a bit so you can melt into his touch. He drops his hand, sneakily lifting you so he's carrying you. You wrap your legs around his waist, holding onto him as he backs up from the wall of the pool. He smiles, spinning you around slowly in the water. You close your eyes, throwing your head back and hanging off him a bit as he spins you. 

There's a mischievous look in his eye, but it all goes away when you dip underwater. He surfaces you quickly, laughing at your surprised expression. “Oh you asshole,” you splash him with water, wetting his hair and face. “I couldn't miss the opportunity, sorry,” he lets go of you, protecting himself from your splashes. You give him your best angry expression, but it doesn't last long. You can't resist his charms, and that award-winning smile always makes you smile. He swims up to you, reaching out to grab you again and pulling you into his chest before you can get away. “I won't do it again, I promise,” he says, shaking his hair and sending water flying. “If you do, we're going to have problems,” you respond, pressing your hands into his chest. 

His eyes glide over your face, his smile still plastered on his lips. He cups your face again, making you tilt your head upwards so he can have access to your lips. He tilts his head a little, leaning in to place a soft kiss on your lips. You kiss him back almost immediately, sliding your hands over his shoulders as you have done before. The soft, pillowy feeling of his lips is enough to send you into a trance, parting your lips for him. Your heart rate spikes a little when you feel him pull you in tighter, his brows furrowing and what seems to have started off as an innocent kiss was now becoming something more euphoric and titillating. He tilts his head a little more, deepening the kiss with a quiet grunt before moving you back to the edge of the pool. Your back hits the smooth edge, the coolness of it suddenly more noticeable. 

His grip on you tightens, his knee coming up to part your legs slowly before pressing into your clothed cunt. The sudden shift in demeanor, and movements, makes you gasp a little. He pulls away slowly, a new look in his lidded eyes. He leans down to kiss the line of your jaw and then your neck. “I haven't been able to give you much attention lately,” he says softly but sensually, “the attention you need and crave.” You tilt your head back just a little to give him more access to your neck. His breath is warm and it fans over your neck, the tickling sensation making goosebumps rise on your skin. His knee presses up against your cunt again, a little harder this time making you squeak in surprise. You lift a leg slightly, opening yourself up more. 

Ken moves his hand down, further and further until stopping at the waistband of your swimsuit bottoms. He slips his lithe fingers underneath the fabric, inching closer and closer to your cunt. His lips find yours again in another aggressive, hungry kiss as if he's trying to devour you through the kiss alone. One of his fingers brushes over your sensitive clit, causing you to startle, and a sharp gasp erupts from your throat. The sound is like music to his ears, the noises you make are just perfect to him. You brace yourself, one hand on the edge of the pool, the other digging into his shoulder while he holds you still. He rubs agonizingly slow circles on your clit, drinking in your expressive behavior, soft moans starting to slide off your sinful tongue. 

You were his weakness, just like he was yours. It was hard to resist him really, a struggle you’ve had since your younger years with him. In moments like these, it was even harder. The sun was still setting on the horizon, however only half of it was visible. The night sky started to pool in, blanketing the sky with specks of stars. He couldn't help himself, hearing your delightful and heavenly moans, he needed to hear more, to feel more. His fingers speed up, rubbing a little harder but oh so perfectly. You part from his lips with a rather pathetic gasp, your mouth staying slightly open as he continues to draw his fingers over your clit. 

He leans in, mouth open against your soft neck, tasting, feeling, the area with his mouth. “I wanna memorize every part of your body,” he hums, breath ragged, “I wanna touch you everywhere, make you mine.” He blabbers, his words digging deep into your core, making you squeeze around nothing. He lifts his head to look at you now, bumping noses as he continues his movements against your clit. His eyes bore into yours, lovingly but lustful. You keep your eyes open, or at least try to. You can't help but close them every time a shock of pleasure rushes up your spine. “I wasn't lying when I told you,” his lips curl into a smug smile, “that I was thinking about you. I’ve been thinking about this all day.” 

“Ken,” you breathe, your moans melodic and messy. “You seem more sensitive than usual,” he points out a little teasingly. That warm tingling feeling starts to build up in your stomach, pleasure shooting up your spine as your climax starts to work its way out of you. Just as you're about to release, Mina’s voice sounds from behind Kenji causing both of you to stop. 

“A phone call from your father, Ken,” she says monotone. Kenji sighs, looks back at Mina, and then back to you, his fingers still positioned on your clit. “Before you try to put it off, it's urgent,” Mina continued before Ken could even speak. He groans, clearly irritated, and then gives you an apologetic look. “I’ll be back,” he says, kissing your forehead before releasing you gently. Your body relaxes, and you catch your breath, watching him get out of the pool and follow Mina into the house. A sigh escapes your lips, irritated but otherwise calm. You decide to stay in the pool until the moon comes up.

𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼

[naomihatake]

I find comfort in your violence

⠀⠀⠀⠀➺ pairing: sylus x fem!reader

⠀⠀⠀⠀➺ tags: gory confession, some fluff

⠀⠀⠀⠀➺ summary: In a mist of violence and exhaustion, he is her safety. Him and him alone can save her from both death and life, when tiredness makes her dizzy.

⠀⠀⠀⠀➺ trigger warnings: explicit violence, mentions of alcohol (I promise it's overall happy if we don't take into account Sylus's violent actions and his Evol)

⠀⠀⠀⠀➺ word count: a few hundred words, it's just a drabble

⠀⠀⠀⠀➺ author's note: This piece has nothing to do with a canon card, but it's the same storyline and plot. MC has been on another solo mission of hers and she tries to find Ever or something like that and shit goes down — at least that's what I imagined but was too lazy to write about that in great detail. I feel like this kind of sudden, unplanned and vulnerable confession would fit MC and Sylus. Deep down, it is a very vulnerable moment for her. Think of it as the both of them being painfully aware of each other's feelings, but they just didn't dare say a word yet.

Sylus may be a monster for some. Deep down, maybe he really was a devil on earth. But isn't even the devil a little safe sometimes? 

People were screaming and screeching in pain, their limbs twisted in unnatural ways. Hearts stopped beating one by one, little by little — because Sylus intended to make it hurt. He didn't intend to be merciful, not that time around. Instead, he cracked their bones and burnt their limbs, he pierced their lungs and killed them from inside their very, very fragile bodies. 

She could barely make out the sounds and movements around her, if it wasn't for Sylus's demanding presence. Wounded and bruised by wanderers, astonished by the twisted strategies of human minds and crazy scientists, she walked to him. It felt like a bad migraine in the middle of a drinking contest — she felt drunk and dizzy, like a drug’s been nesting in her brain. 

The young hunter walked slowly, barely keeping herself on her feet, all until she was enveloped by his warmth. 

A safety so strong it sunk in her bones and glued her wounds back into flesh. So intense the Earth kept spinning, but they stopped, standing as still as the Sun. At that very moment, the world spun around her and she cared not — she didn't have rays to warm up the world and he was nothing more than a ball of darkness. 

Their purpose had nothing to do with the outside world; in such a strange manner, even. The massacre happening behind her was just background noise, a sound so dull she couldn't be bothered to care about it. Sylus's heart beating against her pounding temple was all she could focus on. The arm protectively wrapped around her shoulders, the red stained fingers pressing against her shirt and hunter gear. 

Their purpose and fate belonged to them alone — that's what she wholeheartedly believed at that moment. Not only has the world stopped, but Fate did as well, glaring at them with jealousy. An envy so strong, yet somehow not fiercer than them. 

She hoped that somewhere above the gray clouds was a God that looked down at them and desired to have what they did (to have what she had). 

Slumped against his tall figure, her arms had a weak grip around his waist, ghost-like. Tiredness didn't rush through her veins, but it rather slowed everything down. 

Long fingers curled into the hair at her nape and gently moved her head so he could take her in properly. Sylus was cautious as he analyzed her expression, surprised by the content written so clearly on her face. Once her, oh, so beautiful, eyes had opened, he softened his stance. Her tired gaze, their light dulled, but still so mesmerizing. 

“I love you.” 

Sylus didn't expect to hear her confession coming in such an unsettling situation. Not in a million years would've he thought she'd tell him that when their clothes are dirtied in mud and dried up blood. (When meters away a man was screaming out in pain from the dark red mist crawling up his throat, into his very lungs, scratching at his blood vessels, gnawing at his nerves like sharp venomous fangs.) 

His intimidating stance faltered for a second alone, his fingers gripping a little tighter onto her shoulder. The color in his crimson eyes didn't soften, however; they were like beautiful rubies, like a still red lake. 

Sylus could see her attention shifting to an unknown place as she squinted her eyes to focus on him. His arm fell down from around her shoulders and settled around her waist. 

“Relax, dear.”

Like magic, his words worked. She rested her forehead against his chest and took in a deep breath. 

“I feel safe,” came out her almost incoherent confession. 

“That's good, my love. I wouldn't want you to feel anything else other than that.”

A/N: This was very sudden, but I kinda like it. Maybe it didn't come out exactly the way I wanted or maybe it did, I'm not exactly sure. Thank you for reading and I'd appreciate any kind of support, including your opinions <333

[22ayla21]

A Year On

Exactly one year has passed since her mother died.

Author's Note: This fanfiction is based on my personal experience from the past year, with the difference being that I didn't have anyone by my side to support me. My dad might understand what I'm going through, but even I feel like it's not real support.

She hadn't slept for several days. Each time she closed her eyes, the same image appeared before her: her mother's pale face, emaciated hands, the white sheets of the intensive care unit. And that cursed life support machine, beeping monotonously, counting down the last seconds.

Today wasn't just any day; it was the anniversary. Exactly one year ago, on June 6th, at 8:20 AM, at the Oncology Hospital, her mother passed away. Adrenal cancer, which was just a backdrop, because in reality, she was killed by a blood infection contracted from a negligent doctor at another hospital during surgery. This knowledge gnawed at her from within. Injustice, helplessness, anger—all of it mixed into a single, unbearable knot.

The pain hadn't gone away; it had only dulled, becoming a constant, background noise in her existence. Relatives? They disappeared the moment her mother was gone. Or rather, they didn't disappear; they dumped all their problems, expectations, and difficulties on her. She felt like a puppet, pulled by strings in different directions, draining her last bit of strength. Burnout had become her constant companion, and life seemed to be hurtling into an abyss, with no chance of stopping.

The only anchor she clung to in this whirlwind of despair was Leona. He was always there, by her side. He didn't try to "save" her, didn't force comfort upon her; he simply was. His presence was a quiet harbor in the raging ocean of her suffering.

She lay staring at the ceiling. Gray rays of dawn pierced through the curtains, painting the room in bleak tones. Every nerve in her body screamed with exhaustion, but sleep wouldn't come. Suddenly, the door quietly opened, and Leona entered the room. He was as always: relaxed, with his emerald eyes slightly narrowed and a slight, self-satisfied smirk that, at that moment, seemed the most beautiful thing in the world to her. Thick dark brown hair fell over his eyes, two braided strands, tied with yellow elastic bands, swayed gently. Lion ears on top of his head, a long tail with a tuft of fur at the end—all of it was so familiar and dear.

He didn't say a word, just walked over to the bed and sat down beside her. She felt his warmth, his strong yet gentle scent. He carefully took her hand, his tanned fingers wrapping around her pale palm. She squeezed his hand back, clinging to him like a lifeline.

"Not sleeping?" His voice was low, slightly hoarse, as always.

"No," she whispered. She felt tears welling up again.

Leona didn't ask unnecessary questions. He knew. Knew what day it was, knew she was having a hard time. He simply ran his thumb over her wrist, as if trying to soothe the pulsating pain.

"Do you want anything?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Just be here."

Leona nodded. He pulled her closer, and she buried her face in his shoulder. His broad, muscular back was so dependable. She heard his heartbeat—steady, calm. There was something soothing in that beat, something that helped her not to lose her mind.

She felt his hand glide through her hair, burying itself in it, then descend to her back, stroking with calming movements. His touches were strong yet surprisingly soft. He always knew how to touch her to make her feel better. This was one of his unusual qualities—behind a mask of laziness and arrogance lay surprising sensitivity and perceptiveness.

"You know," she began, her voice muffled by tears, "I feel so... empty. As if there's nothing inside me."

Leona didn't answer immediately. He just held her tighter. Then he said, "Emptiness fills. With time." His words were simple, but they held a kind of ancient wisdom, as if he had seen such emptiness many times before.

"But when?" She lifted her head, her eyes red and swollen.

A familiar, slightly arrogant smirk flickered across his face. "When you decide it's time." He stroked the scar above his left eye, as if in thought. "You can't be a victim forever. It's boring."

His words, seemingly arrogant, she knew concealed something else. It was his way of making her move forward, not drown in self-pity. He understood her yearning for justice, for he himself was its prisoner.

"I feel like I can't do this anymore. Relatives, their problems, studies... I just can't cope."

Leona pulled away to look into her eyes. His emerald eyes were so perceptive. "Then don't cope."

She flinched. "What?"

"Stop trying to cope with everything at once. You don't have to be all-powerful. If they're dragging you down, let go."

"But how...?"

"Easily. Put yourself first. Why should you carry other people's problems if they don't want to solve them themselves? You don't need to prove anything to anyone." He looked at her with such intensity that she felt exposed. "You don't have to be a queen. You have to be yourself."

His words hit home. All her life, she had been taught to be strong, to cope, to carry everything. And Leona, this lazy and arrogant prince, seemed to see right through her. He understood her inner conflict, her deeply rooted desire for recognition and justice, because he was just like her.

"I'm so tired of all this," she buried her face in his shoulder again.

"I know," his voice softened. "But you're not alone."

That was what she needed to hear. Not empty reassurances, not lectures, but a simple confirmation of his presence.

"I wish her death hadn't been so... meaningless," she mumbled. "She went through so much, and then that doctor..."

Leona squeezed her hand. "Sometimes life is unfair. That doesn't mean you have to break." His gaze was firm. "It means you have to become stronger. For yourself."

He stood up, pulling her with him. "Come on. You need to eat."

She resisted. "I don't want to."

"But I said you need to," a hint of the domineering tone she knew so well from him entered his voice. And that was exactly what she needed—someone to take control when she had no strength herself.

She let him lead her. He prepared something simple but nutritious for her. It was hard for her to swallow, but she ate, knowing Leona wouldn't back down. He sat opposite her, silently watching her, his lion ears twitching slightly from time to time.

After breakfast, he suggested they go for a walk. "You need to clear your head. Lying around is useless."

She reluctantly agreed. They walked slowly through the park, under the warm June sun. Leona walked slightly ahead, his long tail swaying from side to side. He was so graceful, so strong. Next to him, she felt safe.

"I feel like I'll never get over this," she said softly.

Leona turned his head, his eyes meeting hers. "Get over it—no. Accept it—yes. The pain won't leave, but it will change. It will become a part of you. And you will learn to live with it."

He spoke of pain with surprising calm, as if it were something he knew well. Perhaps his own experiences of rejection and injustice gave him this understanding.

They reached the lake. Leona sat on the grass, leaning against the trunk of an old oak. She sat down beside him. He didn't try to entertain her or talk about trivialities. He just was. His presence was tangible, firm, like a rock.

She closed her eyes, breathing in the fresh air. Next to Leona, even on this day of mourning and sorrow, she felt less alone. He was her anchor, her support, that rare person who saw the real her, with all her wounds and weaknesses, and still remained by her side. And at that moment, in the silence of the park, protected by his strong shoulder, she felt a tiny, barely perceptible sprout of hope breaking through the thick despair. Perhaps life was indeed hurtling into an abyss, but as long as she had Leona, she wouldn't let herself fall completely. He was the thread she clung to to survive.

[simplyraeblue]

hunter and hunted (jjk)

college (summer) break au: a fic in which y/n is pining over Yuji's older brother Sukuna, while unbeknownst to her, Choso is doing the same thing for her. contents: sukuna x reader, choso x reader, modern college AU, yuji and choso are brothers, sukuna and yuji are brothers, smut warning, fem reader

chapter warning/tags: choso confesses his feelings, lil bit of angst, mention of sex, mentions of prior trauma, suggestive themes, I have subconsciously picked a side, oops I don’t know when this will end A/N: little later than I intened to post, but here it is! I hope you all enjoy, I'll be diving deeper into choso x reader with more slight sukuna x reader in the background (one sided on his part). I'm currently over 2,000 miles away from home visiting my boyfriend so I'm not sure if an update will come this week or not, we shall see! (｡- .•)

index part nine | part eleven

part ten word count: 3,446

the next morning, a surprising calm settled over the cabin: Sukuna was gone. Yuji gathered everyone together, sharing the news that Sukuna had packed up and slipped away early, leaving only a brief text for his brother: a simple “see you at home”. you felt a twing of guilt, but it was overshadowed by the sense of relief that washed over you. 

Without Sukuna’s chaotic energy looming, the last day at the cabin unfolded exactly as you had hoped. more hiking, more fun, and more drinking around the campfire.

as the day came to a close, a bittersweet feeling settled in. you didn’t want it to end; the thought of returning home meant facing Sukuna again, and it also marked the approach of summer’s end. after a long, well-deserved hot shower, you tackled the last of your packing. finally, you slipped into bed, cozying up with a book while soft lofi music played in the background – Choso had rubbed off on you. 

just as you were getting lost in your story, a gentle knock interrupted your peace. you placed your bookmark and got up to answer the door. when you opened it, Choso stood there, dressed in gray sweatpants and an oversized black tee. his dark hair was half tied back, the rest falling messily around his neck. 

“can I come in?” he asked softly, and you nodded, stepping aside to let him in.

“what’s up? can’t sleep?” concern creased your brow as you studied him – it was unusual for him to seek you out like this.

“something like that.” he replied, offering a lopsided smile that made you feel a little lighter.

“well, come in and hang out then.” you motioned for him to sit on the bed, the comforting scent of his cologne wrapping around you as he passed. “I can’t sleep either. I’m not sure I want to go back tomorrow.”

“wanting to stay away from Sukuna a little longer, I assume?” he asked, settling into a comfortable spot. you nodded, and he chuckled softly. “can’t say I disagree with you there.”

you settled back onto the bed, the atmosphere in the room shifting slightly as the two of you exchanged glances. an unspoken tension hung in the air, a mix of comfort and something deeper that neither of you dared to acknowledge. 

Choso leaned back on his hands, his eyes wandering to the window, where rays of moonlight peeked through the blinds. “it’s been nice here, hasn’t it.” he said, his voice almost reflective. “I wish we could just stay forever.” 

“yeah, it really has been.” you smiled, heart fluttering at the thought of the moments you’ve spent with everyone. “no worries, no responsibilities… just us.”

he turned to look at you, his expression earnest. “you know, I think you’ve made this trip a lot more fun.”

your cheeks warmed at his words, and you shrugged playfully, trying to keep the mood light. “you call punching Sukuna in my favor fun?” the corners of your mouth curled into a teasing smile, but underneath, a flicker of tension lingered.

the air thickened with unspoken thoughts, and you both shifted slightly, a moment of hesitation hanging between you. Choso broke the silence, his voice softer now, almost hesitant. “I don’t want to push you to talk about it – but do you know why he was saying those things?”

you wished you could tell him everything – the truth behind Sukuna’s words, the confusion and hurt that tangled inside you. but while you were staying in their house, sharing their space, the words stuck in your throat.

“ah, you know how he can be.” you replied nonchalantly, trying to brush it off. “always trying to get under someone’s skin.”

Choso’s brows furrowed slightly, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that made your heart race. “I just can’t seem to figure out why he seemed to be targeting you all weekend.” his eyes roamed your face, searching for any hint of the emotions swirling beneath the surface. he wasn’t blind; he felt the shift in dynamics, but the reasons escaped him.

you let out a nervous chuckle, the sound shaky as you tried to swallow the feelings building up inside. “maybe he’s jealous that I’m hanging out with you more than him.” you joked, but it was a half-truth. lately, you had found yourself gravitating towards Choso in a way that felt both exhilarating and terrifying.

Choso hummed in agreement, a knowing look in his eyes. “he did seem annoyed that you and I were together.”

“I don’t know why, but we’ll never be able to figure out his thoughts.” you shrugged, but as Choso glanced at you, a mixture of surprise and amusement flickered across his face. “what? did I say something funny?”

suddenly Choso burst out laughing, his cheeks tinged with pink as his head fell back. “y’know, I thought you might’ve noticed and just never said a word – but now I know you really haven’t realized.”

embarrassment crept over you like a warm tide. “realized what?” you asked, your mind racing to piece together some hidden meaning behind his laughter.

Choso’s laughter faded, replaced by a serious expression as he reached for your hand. his skin was warm against your palm, maybe even slightly clammy with nerves, as he held your hand gently in his. your heart started to pound in your chest – were you even really breathing at this point?

“man, even Yuji had realized. I’ll have to tell him he beat you to it.”

“what are you talking about?” your voice came out as a whisper, tinged with confusion as you tried to calm your breathing.

“why do you think I don’t seem to leave your side?” Choso asked softly, one of his fingers brushing your knuckles gently, sending a jolt of electricity through you.

the weight of his words hung in the air, each syllable loaded with meaning. your heart raced, and for a moment, the world outside faded into a blur. you could see it now, the way his eyes lingered on you, the way he seemed to draw strength from your presence.

“Choso…” you breathed, caught between hope and fear, your heart yearning for something you both seemed to want but were too afraid to voice. 

 “do you really not see it?” he asked, his tone soft but insistent. “I mean, I thought it was obvious.” he squeezed your hand gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles with a tenderness that made your breath hitch. 

you felt a flutter in your stomach. “see what, exactly?” you managed, your pulse quickening.

Choso took a breath, his eyes steady as he searched yours. “how we – I mean, how I feel about you.” the confession hung between you, heavy with meaning, and the realization struck you like lightning. 

memories came rushing back, little moments you shared with him that should have set off some sort of alarm. he had a crush on you. but for how long? 

your heart raced as you processed his words, a wave of warmth spreading through you. “you… you like me?” you stammered, suddenly feeling vulnerable under his gaze.

“yeah.” he replied, a shy smile breaking across his face. “I’ve liked you for a while now. it’s just… easier to be around you. you make everything feel lighter.”

you felt a rush of warmth flood your cheeks. “I had no idea.” you admitted, your voice shaky yet filled with wonder. he liked you… he really liked you? 

Choso looked thoughtful for a moment, his fingers still entwined with yours, the warmth of his touch sending shivers through you. “well, I never really had much of a chance to show you how I felt. between you attached at the hip with Yuji and your long-term crush on Sukuna, it never felt right.”

you groaned in annoyance, rolling your eyes, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “ugh, don’t remind me. that’s done and over with, in the past.” the mere mention of Sukuna brought back memories you’d rather forget, and you felt a wave of frustration wash over you.

Choso shifted awkwardly, his eyes darting away for a brief moment before returning to yours, a mix of shyness and determination flickering in his gaze. he desperately wanted to ask what had changed, but he held back. now wasn’t the time to dig into the shadows of your past; he was finally getting you to open up, to see what had been right in front of you all along, and he didn’t want to jeopardize that. 

“I hate to ask, but do you… do you maybe feel the same way?” his voice was barely above a whisper, almost timid as if he feared the answer.

your thoughts spun, pulled from the depths of uncertainty back to the warmth radiating from him. you looked at him, seeing the vulnerability in his eyes, almost pleading with you to let him down gently if you needed to.

“to be honest… yes. maybe.” you bit your lip, searching for the right words. “I feel something, I know that much. I guess I haven’t allowed myself to think on it. I mean, I’m living with you and your brother, who also happens to be my best friend.”

the reminder of Sukuna weighed heavily on your thoughts, already tainting the idea of “best friend’s brother”.

taking a deep breath, you watched as hurt flickered across Choso’s face, and a pang of regret tugged at your heart. “but, I’m willing to think about it. is that okay?”

a spark of hope ignited within Choso, and a tentative smile broke through his shyness, lighting up his features. “of course, take all the time you need.” his voice was soft but firm, as if he wanted to reassure you that there was no pressure.

“just know that I don’t want you to wait for me.” you continued, nudging your shoulder playfully against his. “I’m sure there are plenty of women out there vying for your attention.

Choso’s cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink, and he shifted, his gaze dropping to the ground for a moment before he met your eyes again. “none that compare to you.” his words were simple, yet caused a flutter in your stomach. 

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

just like last time, you were nestled in the backseat between Yuji and Choso for the drive home. and as promised Choso passed his earbuds over to you, smiling warmly when you offered him one to share. 

since your conversation last night, you’d been watching him carefully, taking notice of his actions that used to seem so normal and now showed his true feelings. you’d have to corner Yuji and interrogate him when you got home. but it was nice – the feeling you got around Choso. 

Sukuna hadn’t ever really pursued you, not like this, and everything had mostly felt one-sided until that fateful night. 

you had a lot of thinking to do; you’d pursued one brother already, what kind of person would you be if you went after the other? then again, no one knew about what had happened between you and Sukuna, so only you would have to answer to yourself. 

besides, you knew Choso was different from his not-really-brother.  

you fell asleep on Choso shoulder on the drive home again, this time not worried about any awkwardness that might arise when you woke up. his presence comforted you, along with the lofi he’d recommended for the ride. because of him, you hadn’t thought about what might happen when you made it home.

but you should’ve known better. not all peace can last.

you were mortified – no scarred – to be the first one in the door of the house to find Sukuna and another woman… fornicating… on the couch in the living room. Yuji and Choso bumped into your back, almost protesting your sudden stop until they too saw what you were witnessing.

Yuji grabbed your hand, yanking you back outside and slamming the door behind him to alert Sukuna of your presence. 

“did you not tell him we were on the way back?” Choso demanded of Yuji, his face contorted in with annoyance.

“I swear I did! I even gave him out eta!” Yuji exclaimed with bright red cheeks. you could only stand, frozen, staring at the wooden door in front of you as if you could still see what was going on behind it. Yuji’s hands came down on your shoulders, concern crossing his features. “are you okay? jesus, I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“I think I might throw up.” Choso groaned and rubbed his face. 

before you could respond to Yuji, the front door opened again, revealing Sukuna with at least his pants now on. he didn’t show any remorse, or embarrassment, as he merely smiled directly at you and ignored the other two. 

“didn’t hear you come in.” Sukuna told you, his smirk causing you to grit your teeth in frustration. “or, didn’t really care is more accurate.”

“you couldn’t have warned us?” Yuji questioned.

Sukuna ignored Yuji, stepping down one stair to get closer to you. “did ya like what ya saw?” you felt Choso’s body still next to you, probably fighting the urge to punch him again.

with the confession you’d received from Choso last night, you felt a surge of sudden confidence course through you. you wanted to wipe that smug look off of Sukuna’s face. “not really, it was kind of small.” you managed to bite out.

you might not have held it together, had Yuji not burst into laughter at your words. Choso felt an extreme sense of pride in you as he heard your old self resurface to take Sukuna down a peg. but Sukuna, however, only felt frustrated, maybe hurt, and surprisingly embarrassed.

the eldest brother merely tsked at you, turning on his heel to retreat into the house. Yuji and Choso both congratulated you for handling yourself, but you only felt hot all over – you knew you’d lied, Sukuna knew it, so why didn’t he push back? 

the three of you waited outside for a bit longer, only entering when you deemed it safe. there was no sign of the white-haired woman from earlier, and you assumed that Sukuna had taken her upstairs to his bedroom. 

you had always known Sukuna to be a bit of a player… so why did you now feel sick to your stomach at the thought of him with another woman?

throughout the afternoon and well into the night, your mind was a relentless whirlwind, circling back to that infuriating smirk he wore when you caught him in the act. why was it bugging you so damn much?

after Choso and Yuji had gone to bed, you quietly slipped into the kitchen, seeking solace in a pint of double fudge ice cream. you had nearly devoured half a pint when you heard the unmistakable sound of a door creaking open and shutting upstairs, followed by heavy footsteps descending. 

“eating your feelings, huh?” Sukuna’s voice broke through the stillness as he rounded the corner, catching sight of you in your pajamas, chocolate smudged all over your mouth.

you swallowed the mouthful you had just taken, frantically wiping at the mess with a napkin. “I don’t have feelings to eat away, actually. are you projecting your issues onto me, Sukuna.” you were taken aback by your own defiance; it felt strange to stand your ground against him again.

he chuckled, plucking a spoon from the drawer before leaning over and stealing a bite of your ice cream. you shot him a glare, surprised by his audacity. did he really think things could back to how they once were?

“nope. just ran out of stamina earlier and needed a boost.” there it was again – his infuriatingly arrogant demeanor, as if he thrived on getting under your skin.

“what, did your girlfriend leave already?” you shot back, attempting to keep your voice steady.

Sukuna paused, holding up his index finger as if to half the insults swirling in your mind. “first, she’s not a girlfriend. probably won’t see her again. second, she left while you were hiding in your room.”

the thought struck you like a lightning bolt: did you hurt her the way you hurt me?

it wasn’t until you caught the stunned expression on Sukuna’s face that you realized the words had slipped out before you could reign them in. the shock in his wide eyes mirrored the warmth creeping up your cheeks. there was no taking it back now. with the house quiet and your heart racing, a surge of courage rose within you, pushing you to confront the truth.

“did you hurt her the way you hurt me? did you leave bruises, bleeding bite marks, everything that you made me deal with after you kicked me out?” oh god, it was word vomiting out of you at this point – everything you’d held back, shoved so deep into your soul and fought to conceal surfaced in a fit of rage you could no longer contain.

you pressed on, your voice rising slightly. “did you toss a towel at her and tell her to leave too? did you show her any sign of care or emotion, or was I the only one denied that kindness?”

“Now wait a minute-”

“did you ever ask what she wanted?” you shouted, fists clenched at your side, the ice cream forgotten as it topped off the counter and began to drip and melt into a puddle. the mess mirrored your internal chaos, but you were too consumed by anger to care.

Sukuna only stared. that was all he could do, and it pissed you off more than if he’d said something else. his eyes were wide – you assumed from surprise that you were fighting back. 

unbeknownst to you, you were wrong. that glimmer of surprise you saw was Sukuna trying to replay that night, searching his memories for what he’d done wrong. had you not enjoyed it? had he not… done it right? done right by you? 

as he finally opened his mouth to say something, you held up your hand to stop him. “y’know, I don’t really want to hear it. you’ve been an ass ever since then; I almost gave you the benefit of the doubt, but you fell off the face of the earth around me. I’m going to bed – finish that ice cream if you want.”

you stomped off to your room, leaving a stunned Sukuna standing frozen in the kitchen, his brain fighting to comprehend the words you’d just hurled at him. it wasn’t until your door had slammed shut that he snapped out of it. he shook his head, trying to recollect himself before going back to his room, deserting the mess of ice cream on the counter. 

he’d only done what others had enjoyed in the past. in the moment, he thought you enjoyed it too. was he supposed to do something different? is that why you’ve been so angry with him? he’d chalked it up to you wanting to put on a front in the eyes of everyone else, but this past weekend had proven him wrong.

when he had seen how comfortably you leaned into Choso, how you seemed to pull away in favor of the younger brother, it had struck a nerve deep within Sukuna. it felt like a dagger twisting in his chest, and the realization that you might have tossed his aside sent a surge of jealousy through him. 

that’s why he had exploded in anger this weekend, lashing out with hurtful words that hung in the air like smoke. he couldn’t shake the feeling that you had chosen someone else over him.

as his thoughts spiraled into chaos, he climbed the stairs, each step heavy with conflicting emotions. reaching the top, he found the other half of the problem standing in the doorway opposite of his. when Sukuna’s eyes locked with Choso’s, he was met with a look of darkness, an unsettling mix of disappointment and anger that spoke volumes without a word.

“so, you heard all that, huh?” Sukuna managed to say, his voice barely a whisper, the pain evident in each syllable. it was a simple question, but it carried the weight of everything unsaid.

in response, Choso simply slammed his door, the force reverberating through the hallway and rattling the walls.

down in your room, completely unaware of the storm brewing above, you assumed it was Sukuna who had slammed his door in frustration. little did you know, the tension had escalated to a point where your carefully guarded secret was on the brink of being blown wide open.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . taglist: @nighttwingg @sweetsformysoul @casualpoetrytaco @lvingd3adg0rl @haikomaiko @csolya @deathlypink @sad-darksoul @elisedylandy @jinxiewritings @aldebrana @ravester @futuristiccurlyhair @san-it-is-i-guess @marie-is-in-the-dark I hope I got everyone, and I hope the tagging worked for all of you! thank you so much for liking this enough to be tagged, it means the world to me! xoxo if you'd like to be added to the taglist let me know! ♡ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

[frostbytemyrik]

Danny Phantom Required* Watching

*It isn't actually required. I know there are a ton of phans who have never even seen a single episode of the show, but it's a fun watch and I would recommend at least catching some.

Sorting the episodes into colors (with the first letter in parenthesis by the title for those who might be too colorblind to tell). Note that this is all just my objective opinion, and everyone is free to leave their own thoughts on this!

Green (G) - Introduction of an important character or major plot development, such as a new power for Danny or another major shift in the status quo. If you can only watch a few of the episodes, watch these.

Pink (P) - Introduction of a side character or minor plot development.

Red (R) - Introduction of a new character worth mentioning or other general status quo change, but the episode is generally considered to be...not great by most people. (But hey, nothing wrong with liking these episodes!) They'll be summarized at the bottom of each episode description for those who can't be bothered to watch them.

Blue (B) - Nothing important happens to the overall plot, but it's a fun episode that fleshes out the characters.

Season 1

Episode 1: Mystery Meat (R) - Establishes the show and its main characters: Danny, Sam, and Tucker, as well as a lot of other important characters such as the Fenton parents and Jazz, and minor recurring characters like Dash and the Lunch Lady. The writers are still getting their footing so the main trio is unfortunately among the flattest they get here.

Episode 2: Parental Bonding (P) - Introduction of Paulina and Dora, first look at Valerie, and most importantly, Danny's power to overshadow people. Fun episode in general, Tucker makes a weird comment at the start but this is one of Sam's absolute best episodes as a character. (Tucker and Sam actually getting to be fun characters instead of just "butt-monkey comic relief" and "selfish asshole" is rarer than I'd like, so I always like pointing out the episodes where they get some love.)

Episode 3: One of a Kind (G) - Introduction of Skulker, a recurring major antagonist, and his motivations.

Episode 4: Attack of the Killer Garage Sale (P) - Introduction of Technus, Ghost Master of Technology and Destroyer of Worlds, Manipulator of Machines, Lord of all Gadgetry, Wizard of Integrated Circuitry, Master of All Things Electronic and Beeping.

Episode 6: What You Want (P) - First appearance of Danny's Ghost Ray and introduction to Desiree and the Ghost Catcher (a Fenton device with an unfortunately rather...culturally insensitive name and design), explores Tucker and his relationship to Danny. I went back and forth between making this green and pink because I'm biased in my love for this episode, but it isn't necessary to comprehend later episodes. (If you can watch it, though, it's a lot of fun as we get to see how close Danny and Tucker are and how Tucker feels about Danny's powers.)

Episode 7: Bitter Reunions (G) - Formal introduction to main series antagonist, Vlad Masters, and his relationship with the Fentons and the ghosts of the Ghost Zone. (Antisemitism tw: Vlad has hired ghost hitmen that are vultures with Yiddish accents, hooked beaks, and fezzes. They thankfully don't show up anywhere else, as far as I can remember.)

Episode 8: Prisoners of Love (P) - Introduction to the Ghost Zone itself and Walker, a side antagonist. Shows Alicia, Danny and Jazz's maternal aunt who never appears again after this episode.

Episode 9: My Brother's Keeper (G) - Gives Jazz a focus and formally makes her a major player in the plot through a certain discovery she makes. Also introduces side antagonist Dr. Penelope Spectra.

Episode 10: Shades of Gray (G) - Valerie Gray, a background character from Episode 2, gets new motivations and becomes an important part of the series going forward.

Episode 11: Fanning the Flames (P) - Ember is introduced, and she hypnotizes the entire town to fall for her with her music. To keep Danny out of her hair, she makes him fall for Sam. Whether this episode is a Pink or a Red depends on whether or not that bothers you. (Racism tw: there's a sequence towards the end of the episode that shows people around the world watching Ember, and they're all very stereotyped appearances of Japanese, Eastern European, Arabian, and Indigenous Australian people. Thanks, Hartman.)

Episode 12: Teacher of the Year (B) - A fun episode with Technus. It does have some of that early 2000s "don't underestimate me because I'm a girl" stuff, but it's still a good episode with a lot of heart.

Episode 13: Fright Night (P) - Introduces Fright Knight. A Halloween special that has its ups and downs (eating underwear?) It's just really funny that an actual ghost, who has been to the maddeningly twisted and alien world of the afterlife, still can't scare anyone to save his life.

Episode 14: 13 (P) - It's a shame this isn't actually the 13th episode. Anyway, it introduces Johnny 13 and Kitty, while Tucker and Sam get to hang out without Danny while trying to solve Tucker's new run of bad luck and the fallout for his reputation.

Episode 15: Public Enemies (G) - Walker's back and he's making a major shift in the status quo: ghosts are confirmed to exist as he stages a major invasion of the town. Things don't go well for Danny, and the repercussions will be felt for well into the series. Also introduces Wulf, a ghost who looks like a werewolf, exclusively speaks Esperanto, and has the ability to tear the fabric of reality to create portals between Earth and the Ghost Zone. He's putting this power to use for Walker, but it's clearly not by choice...

Episode 17: Maternal Instinct (B) - Maddie notices her son is growing distant from her and tries to take him to a science symposium to bond with him, but disaster strikes and leaves them in the woods, with the only shelter available being...a cabin owned and occupied by none other than Vlad. Meanwhile, Jack tries to understand Jazz, who doesn't seem to want anything to do with him or ghost hunting. Lots of great character moments for the Fentons.

Episode 18: Life Lessons (B) - Danny and Valerie, arriving late to class because they both were out ghost hunting, get paired up in home economics class to raise a flour sack baby together. We get more insight into what Valerie's life is like after Shades of Gray, and she learns to get along with both Fenton and, temporarily, Phantom, after an excursion through Skulker's part of the Ghost Zone. As a B-plot, Tucker makes money babysitting other students' flour sacks while ignoring the one he has with Sam, and Sam tries not to get attached to the sack. It's not important to the plot AT ALL but I'd put this as a must-watch if I could. Alas, I made the rules and must follow them.

Episode 19: The Million Dollar Ghost (B) - A million dollars is placed on the head of the ghost boy, Public Ghost Enemy #1: Inviso-Bill, known to us in the audience as Danny Phantom.

Episode 20: Control Freaks (G) - The circus is in town! New villain Freakshow gets introduced, and he becomes important later. Kinda. Depending on how much you like a certain blue episode that comes on down the line. The trio go to this cool new goth circus, but there's a string of ghostly robberies in town and Danny has been acting strangely lately...

Season 2

Episode 1/21: Memory Blank (R) - Danny and Sam have a fight, Sam wishes she'd never met him, Desiree makes the wish come true and now Danny has no powers and neither he nor Tucker remember her at all. Sam gets him fried by the portal again to get his powers back, but this time with a new logo she designed slapped onto his chest. Really all that happens is Danny gets his logo. This can be skipped...if you wish. ;)

Episode 2/22: Doctor's Disorders (B) - There's a bug going around - literally - getting the kids at Casper High sick. Symptoms include sneezing, chills, coughing, congestion, and various ghost powers depending on the student. The only ones immune seem to be Danny (thanks to his ghost powers) and Tucker (wearing his new homemade cologne that smells awful in a different way to everyone). A new hospital opens up to treat them, but something fishy is definitely going on. ...But Tucker is afraid of hospitals. Great Tucker episode.

Episode 3/23: Pirate Radio (P) - Introduction to Youngblood, an occasional antagonist. A new radio program pops up, and every adult in town (and Jazz, who's 16 but sees herself as an adult) is enraptured by it and the one song that it plays on loop. Then one day, every single adult in town leaves behind a note that they're going on a cruise, and it's up to Danny to rally the teens of Amity Park to discover what's so fishy about the cruise and get their parents back.

Episode 4/24-5/25: Reign Storm (G) - The creepy castle in the Ghost Zone Danny accidentally freed Fright Knight from in Fright Night holds yet another secret: the coffin of the Ghost King, known as Pariah Dark, whose goal is to rule over the Ghost Zone and the human world with an iron fist. Vlad frees him hoping to snatch the powerful artifacts on him, but it backfires and now the King is free and follows the fleeing ghosts to Amity Park, which he promptly invades. Danny, Valerie, and various enemies including Vlad need to team up to seal King Pariah back within his sarcophagus and save both Amity Park and the Ghost Zone as a whole. Major status quo shifts happen here.

Episode 6/26: Identity Crisis (B) - Not my favorite episode, but I'm including it here because it was popular with the Phandom a decade ago. Danny gets tired of trying to balance his human and ghost lives, so splits himself in two using the Ghost Catcher that was introduced in Season 1 episode 6: What You Want. That also, unfortunately, divides his personality to two extremes; the human half ("Fun Danny") is lazy while the ghost half ("Super Danny") is an absolute ham of a superhero stereotype, and Tucker and Sam struggle to put their friend back together so he can stop Technus in a way only he can (and also because both halves are honestly really annoying them).

Episode 8/28-9/29: The Ultimate Enemy (G) - This is THE episode of all time. Maybe not the best episode, but it's great in its own right and, more importantly for this list, introduces another major status quo shift. It's also basically required viewing for the comic that came out last year (at time of writing), as that comic is a direct follow-up to this episode. Clockwork, a ghost that is essentially a deity of time, has a mission to eliminate the greatest threat to Earth and the Ghost Zone that has ever been before he comes into that role: a ghost named Danny Phantom. Danny comes face-to-face with a version of himself that caused a doomed future, and needs to fight to ensure that future never comes to pass.

Episode 10/30: The Fright Before Christmas (B) - The boy Danny Fenton, a Grinch to his core, finds the holiday season to be quite a chore. Into the Ghost Zone to blow off some steam, he accidentally causes a scene: the Ghost Writer's finished manuscript in ashes, and with Danny's indifference he clashes. He traps him in a book that warps space and time, and forces all events in his life to rhyme. You're in for a treat if you like all these rhymes, but if they annoy you, then don't waste your time. (This factoid may not matter to you, but this is where we learn of the Christmas Truce!)

Episode 11/31: Secret Weapons (R) - Jazz is overbearing, Danny doesn't like it, so Jazz decides to go to Vlad. The episode's latter half isn't bad, but it's R because Jazz's constant invasions of Danny's privacy and the repetitive thermos jokes grate on me. If you plan to skip, the thing that makes it a red episode is this: Vlad learns that Jazz is in-the-know.

Episode 12/32: Flirting With Disaster (G) - A lot of the more plot-relevant episodes in season 2 (and one in season 1) have been building romantic tension between Danny and Valerie, and here's where it comes to a head: they actually start dating! However, after some jealous stalking thorough investigating, Sam finds that there's someone pulling the strings, and manipulating their real feelings for each other to pull them together and get them out of the way... Valerie especially undergoes a lot of major character moments, and we learn a lot more about her as a person. One of my personal favorite episodes (and I don't just say that because I'm a Danny/Valerie truther) (the "engraved" ring and Sam being a stalker about it aren't great, but honestly I just try to ignore those parts. Yes, I know I'm biased).

Episode 17/37: Kindred Spirits (G) - While Danny's busy being an asshole to his friends leaving Sam and Tucker to take the blame for property damages during his fights, he finds a strange girl named Danielle (or "Dani") who claims to be his cousin and shares an eerie resemblance with him. The similarities go more than skin deep, as she quickly reveals that she's ALSO half ghost. Tucker and Sam warn Danny that there's something suspicious about the whole ordeal (in between being left behind to be blamed for collateral damage more times than I'm bothered to count right now), but when Danny winds up in trouble anyway, they still skip detention (that he got them in) to save him before it's too late. Danny's a dick, but despite that, it's still a good episode and we get introduced to Dani before her next appearance.

Episode 19/39-20/40: Reality Trip (B) - Freakshow gets the Reality Gauntlet: an off-brand Infinity Gauntlet that can warp reality to anything he desires. He gets Danny's secret revealed to the world, causing the government agency the Guys In White (from Million Dollar Ghost in season 1) to relentlessly pursue him. Luckily, thanks to knowledge Sam gained from a book on the gauntlet, the main trio manages to warp the gems to different parts of the United States, severely limiting Freakshow's power. Unluckily, Freakshow retaliates by kidnapping their parents and Jazz, forcing the three to go on a cross-country road trip to get the gems back to Freakshow and save their families while evading the law. No permanent shifts of the status quo, but one of my personal favorite episodes. It's a fun ride!

Season 3

Episode 1/41: Eye for an Eye (R) - A prank war between Danny and Vlad ends in Vlad becoming mayor and passing a lot of horrible laws specifically to spite Danny. The laws are undone by the end of the episode, but Vlad stays mayor.

Episode 2/42: Infinite Realms (R) - In trying to map out the Ghost Zone, the main trio end up meeting Frostbite: leader of a realm in the Zone known as the Far Frozen, filled with spirits that take the form of peaceful, yeti-like monster folk who revere Danny as the chosen one who defeated Pariah Dark. Frostbite is also keeper of the Infi-Map: a map that can take the user anywhere in the Ghost Zone. Now for the bad news: Vlad is here, he wants world domination now for some reason, and he wants the map to help him do it. Vlad steals the map, the trio needs to get it back. It's not the worst episode, but Vlad's villain decay is...tragic. Tl;dr: Frostbite is the leader of a tribe of friendly yeti spirits and keeps the Infi-Map, which can take the user to any point in the ghost zone.

Episode 5/45: Forever Phantom (B) - One of the only actually fun filler episodes in season 3. Introduces us to Amorpho: a ghost with the power to shapeshift into anything and anyone, who uses their power to cause mayhem for attention. They bite off more than they can chew when they impersonate Danny Phantom, however, and a Fenton device gone awry locks both Amorpho and Danny into the form of Danny Phantom. Wacky hijinks abound.

Episode 6/46: Urban Jungle (G) - Haha green. Like plants. Anyway, Danny has been cold lately. No matter what he does or where he is, he's consistently freezing. It gets worse: while Danny's in this weakened state, a giant plant ghost named Undergrowth takes over Amity Park and possesses Sam. Unable to fight the constantly-regenerating Undergrowth or to keep himself from freezing, he flees into the Ghost Zone to seek Frostbite's aid.

Episode 9/49: Frightmare (B) - Danny wakes up one night to learn, to his horror, that Nocturne, the ghost of dreams, has put all of Amity Park into a deep sleep to feed on their energy. He enters the dreams of his friends to wake them and get their help taking Nocturne down. A good episode for people who ship Danny/Sam, and a GREAT episode for people like me who like to pretend that all the episodes I left off the season 3 list were just bad dreams.

Episode 10/50: Claw of the Wild (B) - The students of Casper High are ending summer with a camping trip in a foggy forest. All seems normal until, one by one, campers go missing. Danny, Tucker, and Sam go investigating and find their ally Wulf, who seems to know something about the disappearances...

Episode 11/51: D-Stabilized (G) - Regarded by most as the final good episode of Danny Phantom. Dani had been on her own in the world since we last left her, but over time, her form has been getting unstable, causing her to be slowly melting into a puddle of ectoplasm. She tries returning to Amity Park to get help, but is now being hunted down by Valerie, who Vlad commissioned so he could melt Dani down and study her remains to make a superior clone. (Valerie thinks he's just going to keep her contained for the safety of Amity Park; she isn't informed of the cloning.) Valerie turns Dani in to Vlad, but Danny manages to form a shaky alliance with Valerie to get Dani back, since Valerie knows that Dani is half human.

Episode 12/52-13:53: Phantom Planet (R) - The only reason this is here is because the comic continues from where this episode left off. If it didn't, I'd suggest ignoring it entirely. Rapid-fire summary: an asteroid is about to hit Earth, Vlad reveals himself to the world and demands unquestioning rule over Earth (and one trillion dollars or something) in exchange for turning the asteroid intangible. Vlad can't turn it intangible since it's made of Ectoranium, an anti-ghost substance we never hear of until now. Jack leaves Vlad in outer space. Danny gets every ghost he knows to help him turn Earth intangible, it works somehow, and Danny reveals his secret identity to the world. Statues of Danny are built all over the world, Sam and Danny start dating, and Tucker becomes mayor of Amity Park. A bunch of other stuff happens too but it's all stupid. Valerie gets thrown into a dumpster on live TV and that's her only appearance besides clapping for Danny at the end. I'm still mad. Don't watch Phantom Planet.

The Comics

Book 1: A Glitch in Time (G) - Danny's life is perfect: his secret identity is out, and the world accepts him not just as a part of it, but as its savior. His parents and former bullies fight on his side now, he's in a committed relationship with Sam, and Amity Park seems to be at peace. There's just one problem: his powers are getting weaker by the day. Unbeknownst to him, there's another problem in progress: Dan Phantom, the evil future Danny from The Ultimate Enemy, is released and fuses with Clockwork, causing present Danny and those near him to experience unstable glitches in time. Vlad returns to warn Danny of the threat of Dan, and they all team up to venture into the depths of the Ghost Zone to find a way to stop Dan and get Danny back to full strength. Meanwhile, Jazz and Valerie hold down the fort at Amity Park, holding Dan off for as long as they can while the trio and Vlad search for answers.

Book 2: To be continued in 2025!

Danny Phantom can be watched on Paramount Plus, but if you don't have a subscription, there may be DVDs at your local library! Other people may also have resources on how to watch the show, so feel free to ask around!

Danny Phantom: A Glitch in Time can be found anywhere books are sold! Abrams Books Amazon Barnes and Noble Google Play Waterstones

[boneapplet]

From Rust and Bone pt.23

Chronicles of the Lost Primarch

Relationship: Rogal Dorn x oc/afab!reader

Warnings: reference to past background characters death

Word Count: 1095

Requested tag:@noncon-photobomb @beckyninja @blukitty40k @runin64 @ilovewolvezz @meriamarie

Masterlist

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4 | pt 5 | pt 6 | pt 7 | pt 8 | pt 9 | pt 10 | pt 11 | pt 12 | pt 13 | pt 14 | pt 15 | pt 16 | pt 17 | pt 18 | pt 19 | pt 20 | pt 21 | pt 22 | pt 23

               The hold is quieter than it has any right to be. Not silent—never that, not in a place where machinery groans like distant beasts in slumber and the wind whispers through cracked bulkheads like a voice half-remembered. It is the hush of tension dispersed. Of aftermath. Of something vast just beginning to settle.

Dorn moves with slow purpose through the corridor; long strides reduced to a more measured pace. He walks as a commander would, with presence, but not yet command. His eyes take in everything: the structure, the wear, the adaptation. A soldier’s scrutiny, yes, but deeper too. The way one might study a scar.

Beside him, Kessa keeps to his left, silent. Watching not just the hold itself, but the way the air bends around him. The way every shape responds to his passing, the faint shifting of shoulders, the snap of postures straightening even among those who think themselves too tired for ceremony. She doesn’t need to understand what a primarch truly is to feel the current Dorn leaves in his wake. It isn’t reverence, not exactly. It is gravity.

Passing beneath a high gantry where cabling hangs like jungle vines, swaying faintly with filtered wind. Ahead, a converted corridor opened into a wide space, part forge, part armory. The walls are pitted with old plasma scarring, sanded down but still visible beneath the matte-gray coats of paint. Racks of weapons stand arranged with ritual precision, some clearly relics, others hammered into shape by hand. At one table, a neophyte kneels polishing the grip of a bolt pistol, lips moving in silent catechism. Another adjusted a power pack beneath the guidance of an older brother, Alcaeus, Kessa thinks to herself, from earlier. The one who watches everything with a veteran’s caution.

As Dorn enters, heads turn. Helmets come off, gauntlets tapped to chestplates in sharp, soundless salutes. Eyes, those strange, intense eyes so unlike any she has ever known, seek him out like iron filings to a lodestone. Some full of awe. Others caution. One or two unreadable, but no less alert. He offers no grand reply, just a nod. A single, measured acknowledgment of their gesture.

Kessa lets her gaze drift over the space. There are no banners here. No relic shrines adorned in incense smoke and votive candles. But there is memory. She sees it in the small things, names etched into wall plates, tally marks carved with ritual precision into the edge of a transport ramp, a tattered yellow scrap of cloth pinned above a weapon locker. A child’s drawing, maybe. A sun with too many rays.

“This place was never meant to hold,” Dorn says at last. His voice wis low. Roughened, not with doubt, but with something older. A recognition of failure too long buried.

“No,” Kessa replies, eyes on a dented arch overhead. “But it did anyway.”

He looks at her, and for a flicker of a heartbeat, something in his gaze softens. They move on. Down the next corridor, they pass what had once been a stasis bay, now an infirmary of necessity. Through the wide blast-hatch, Kessa glimpses a marine laid out on a reinforced slab, half his torso unarmored, bandages stained dark with old blood. Two others work around him, efficient in their silence. One is clearly more skilled; his hands moved with the precision of a battlefield apothecary, even if the tools he uses are scrap-born and uneven. There are no sanitized apothecarions here. No standard kits. Just will, and bond, and the ghost of training meant for a different kind of war. Dorn pauses in the doorway. His shadow falling across the threshold like a curtain.

“They should have had relief,” he says.

“They didn’t,” Kessa answers. “Yet they found a way anyway.”

“They shouldn’t have had to.”

“No,” she says. “But they’re still here.”

For a long moment he says nothing. The sound of the medics’ work fills the silence. A rasp of breath. A muted grunt. The hiss of a cauterizer. Dorn steps away, and they continue down the hall. They reach a place where a side ramp has been converted into a memorial. The walls bear no statues, but names, hundreds of them, carved in rows with powered blades and burning irons. Some full rank and honorifics. Some just first names. Some only symbols. Near the bottom, someone had scrawled in charcoal: There is no death in the shadow of the wall.

Dorn stands before it. Kessa, quiet at his shoulder, lets her eyes trace the same rows. The marks are uneven, some reverent, others raw. There had been no script here, but the kind made in grief and flame.

“I saw sons die on Terra,” Dorn says, at last. “Watched walls fall that were never meant to fall. Buried brothers beneath cataclysms that shattered stars.”

Kessa doesn’t speak.

“I thought that was the end. That what came after would be a slow decline. Rot in the guise of order.”

Turned from the wall then and looks toward the distant scaffolding where neophytes are rearming under dim lighting, where laughter, brief and real, echoes from a corner workbench.

“They survived,” he says. “And they built again. Not because of the Imperium… but in spite of it.”

She meets his eyes. “And what does that tell you?”

“That duty,” he says slowly, “may still live. Even when the dream has broken.”

A long silence follows.

“They’re waiting,” Kessa says.

He looks at her.

“For you. For what you’ll be to them now.”

“I was meant to die,” Dorn says. “Sacrificed to the storm. That was supposed to be the final act.”

“It wasn’t,” she says. “You’re here. So are they.”

“They don’t need who I was.”

“Maybe not,” she says. “Maybe they need what you could be now.”

He looks at her for a long time. Below them, through the grated floor, she can barely see movement. Marines assembling. The soft thump of ceramite boots on metal, the hushed gestures of brothers in communion. A gathering.

“They’re waiting,” she said again. “But not just for a commander.”

Dorn looks down at the gathering below, at Erastes standing in a ring of flickering lumen-flares, Jarn quietly speaking to two scouts near the edge. The survivors of a broken crusade, standing in the shadow of something older than them all.

“No,” he says at last. “They’re waiting for a father.”

With that, he turns from the memorial and begins down the stairs. The bell tolls once above them, raw, mechanical, and resonant. Calling them to him. Calling him to them.

[diamondheartyux]

Pennywise

  "Legend has it he likes to be crammed into any tight, wet hole he can find." 

DK x xreader

Genre: Horror, Smut 18 + MDNI

Word count: 5.8K

Warnings: Clowns, aggression, dub\con-ish, this is pretty tame compared to the others BUT if I have missed anything please let me know.

Welcome to part one of Killer Climaxes! 👻

Peep the playlist here

In a small town in Seoul, rumors swirl about Dokyeom: a clown obsessed, sex crazed weirdo who hangs out in the town's sewer systems. He was Seoul's own little Pennywise except he didn't crave your life, just your orgasms. It was also believed that once he got his hands on you, you were never the same, your body morphing, turning you into a certified nympho as the desperate craving for more was all but unbearable. The only problem is he doesn't double tap, so the town is left with a hoard of mindless zombies walking around in search of their next lay that could come close enough to satisfying them. 

People always say there are pieces of truth in legends but you can't seem to find any in this. A whole town of lust driven citizens? A grown man who roams sewers dressed as a clown? No sane person would do these things. It was absurd not to mention the fact that you were absolutely terrified of clowns. You scoff, one headphone in blasting your favorite playlist, as you quickly crumble the newsletter in your hand. Your footsteps echo on the wet pavement, the chilly autumn air hanging with the remnants of the storm having just passed through. The leaves rustle in the trees lining the street, the air around them dancing in shades of yellow, orange, and red. A breeze blows softly, whispering to your skin as it coaxes goosebumps to the top. You pull your cardigan tighter around you as your feet pad over piles of fallen leaves with a satisfying crunch. 

The sun was hidden behind the looming gray clouds, dimming the bright rays to a muted light around you. It was almost dusk, that time between early afternoon and nightfall when the street lights would turn themselves on at the first hint of dimness. You take in a deep breath, savoring the smells of damp and decay surrounding you and the scent sends waves of peace to your brain and through your body. It really was the most wonderful time of the year. You tread softly, in no hurry to get home as you travel the familiar path from college to your house. You zone out, your feet carrying you off muscle memory, as you nod your head to the music blasting in one ear. This road was empty, as it always was. That's why you chose it. No cars, no bikes, and most importantly: no people to bother you as you decompress from the day full of academics. 

Humming softly, you skip a little as you lose yourself to your music pumping loudly in your ear, your arms swinging and your shoes stomping on piles of wet leaves. Your body moves to the beat, shimmying in time with the tempo. Your mind is lost within you, the rhythm in your ears is just the escape you need after today. The town was buzzing for Halloween as it quickly approached, every corner boasting of witches, vampires, and clowns. All make believe creatures merely brought to life by childlike wonder, things you didn't understand the fascination with. 

You pass a storm drain and roll your eyes before tossing the balled up newsletter in your hand at it as you pass. You watch it as it disappears, hitting the concrete on the inside with a small noise and you smirk proudly. It was a perfect shot which is a lot because your aim was terrible. You turn back to the empty road before you with a smile on your face, amping the volume on your phone up. And you almost miss it. 

You weren't sure what you heard at first. A rustling so soft, it sounded like a background noise in your song. You pause the music, still strolling, and listen. When you don't hear anything you unpause it then rewind, listening for the odd sound again. Concentrating on the notes and rhythm in your earbud, you finally hear it again yet this time, it's in a different spot in the song. You stop, your mind on alert now as you turn to survey around you. Your eyes laser in on everything, searching for anything or anyone around you. 

You turn slowly to your right after sweeping the left and that's when you see it. Your eyes widen as you stop mid turn, your shoulder angled towards the storm drain you just passed. There, about half a meter from the drain was the newsletter you threw inside. Your brain is buzzing, busy sending out signals of danger through you yet your body remains frozen in disbelief. Against better judgment, you bring your body to face the drain. Your head tilts curiously as you study the paper ball in the street. Your eyes dart from the drain to the paper and back. You knew you had thrown it into the drain. Hadn't you? No, you saw it go in. It was the perfect shot, wasn't it? You lift your foot the slightest bit much to your brain's disappointment, and you push yourself forward, taking a timid yet cautious step. 

You make your way back to the paper, one small, scared step at a time. You try to come up with reasons for what happened yet none of them make sense. You stop, bending down slowly to grab the paper as you approach it and that's when you hear it. A sound so soft you almost missed it. You squat down, peering into the sewer when you hear it again: a whimper. It’s childlike in nature and a panic begins to bloom in your chest. Was there a child in there? How long had they been in there? Were they stuck?

“Hello?” you call timidly, your voice soft but loud enough to bounce off the concrete of the drain. You gasp lightly when a small, timid voice returns your greeting. 

“H-h-help me.” it says softly, the high pitch whine of a scared, small child ringing in your ears, sending alarm bells through your entire body for the wrong reasons. You lean forward some, placing your hand on the slick pavement to balance yourself as you try to peer into the drain. 

“I’m stuck. Please help me. I’m so scared. It’s so dark here. I want my mom.” the voice says to you, a hushed sniffle paired with a choked sob following its last words. Your heart pounds, shattering and the sirens of your brain are silenced by the overwhelming need to help this poor scared child. You lean forward more, your face now mere centimeters from the opening. You tilt your head side to side as you survey the blackness that presents itself over the lip of the entrance. You pull your foot forward to walk yourself in your crouched position, the sound of your sneakers dragging across the pavement feel louder than they should be but still bounce off your ears despite the frenzied pumping of your heart. 

“Give me your hand. Let me see if I can pull you out and then we’ll find your mom, okay? Can you reach the top?” you ask tenderly as you continue to move your face closer. Your arm comes out hesitantly, hovering just in front of your chest as you wait to see little fingers breach the darkness in front of you.

Small sniffles echo quietly in the inky dark space and you sit frozen, eyes trained to it. 

“I’m reaching as far as I can. Can you see my fingers?” 

You tilt your head curiously, concluding that the child was too short to be seen over the edge so you lean forwards more, one knee coming to almost touch the ground as your hands rests on either side of you for balance. You bring your face to the storm drain, eyes straining to see the outline of small, chubby, childfingers. When you see nothing, you feel a mixture of frustration and concern. You squint before you call back out. 

“I can’t see you.” You reply but then you see pale white fingers slowly come from the void of the drain as they snake up into the air before coming down one by one to grip the lip deliberately. You tilt your head in confusion. The fingers are long and slender. And pale. They very much do not look like children’s fingers unless maybe it was the way the shadows cast in there. Maybe it was optical, something your brain couldn’t understand due to the vast varying degrees of dark and light. You watch, holding in a breath while leaning closer subconsciously before you hear the voice again.

“Can you see me now?” it asks in response, the childlike falsetto distorting with every syllable.. You lean forward a bit more out of curiosity, eyes squinting as you try to see when suddenly a face appears, popping up quickly. You gasp, startled and fall backwards as an eerie giggle floats across the space between you. It takes a moment for you to register that you were looking at a clown. His face was painted a ghostly white and it cracked along the lines in his forehead to settle into the wrinkles of his skin. His yellow eyes gleamed manically, the red lines running through them in consistency with the curve of his cheek stopped at the end of his lips before outlining them in the same deep red that lines his face and the top of his nose. A ruffled, dirty white collar framed his neck, resting under his chin. His hairline was pushed back, his red hair barely visible in the shadows.   

A scream dies in your throat as terror strikes you, coursing heatedly through your veins. Adrenaline responds immediately and you can feel your muscles trembling at the sight. A clown. A fucking clown. You’re frozen, deer eyed as you watch this creepy clown, his long white fingers lifting as more malicious laughter breezes off his lips. His hand begins to slowly climb out of the shadows, reaching at snail’s pace towards your ankles. Your hands ache from leaning back on them and your chest heaves as panic threatens to shut your entire system down. 

His fingers creep closer to your feet and you stare, helplessly frozen as they uncurl before stretching slowly in an attempt to wrap around your ankle. In that moment, your brain finally switches back on and you instinctively shuffle backwards in a desperate attempt to put space between you and him before curling your feet closer to you. Tears fall down your cheeks, your vision blurry with them as you scramble to get away. Your eyes refuse to leave his terrifying face, the sadistic smile curving his lips upwards and exposing his teeth, etch itself in your memory. You finally manage to pry your watery vision from the terror in front of you as you twist to the side, trying to push yourself up to stand and run. That’s when you feel it. 

His fingers wrap around your ankle and terror buzzes through you once again. Your heart pounds rapidly against your ribcage, as if screaming to get away. You turn your head to look back over your shoulder, both hands flat against the damp street under you before you kick your leg as you try to shake him off.. His hand grips tighter and his grin grows wider, exposing more of his pink gums.

He tugs at your foot, pulling you closer to the drain and to the darkness inside it. You kick harder and more frantically this time while sobs begin to erupt from your chest. He pulls you quicker and your flailing slows down to a stop. You try to grasp the ground as you inch closer to him, your nails cracking and breaking against the pavement before they begin to bleed. Your fingertips ache and, despite the failed efforts, you continue to claw in hopes to get away. You dig your hands tighter against the concrete as his giggles dance up your body and hover in your ears. Your vision is cluttered with tears despite the stream of them cascading down to drop from your chin.

In spite of your efforts, you can feel him pulling you closer, your legs bending as they crest the lip of the drain and dangle in the darkness inside it. Your arms ache and your fingers throb, the tips raw from your pointless struggling. You sniffle as your attempts to free yourself dwindle. Your body slides deeper into the storm drain, your legs dangling aimlessly as your waist finally crests the lip. He tugs you more with his slender fingers wrapped around your ankle almost painfully.You all but give up, allowing him to drag you further into his makeshift lair when suddenly you stop moving. He yanks your ankle to pull you down but you don’t move. Your upper body from the waist up remains on the outside, your hips too thick to snake into the bend of the drain. You wince as he continues to tug on your leg. Your hands return to trying to grip the road as you attempt to pull yourself out. Your legs flail frantically, hoping to take this opportunity to escape.    

A sigh of frustration permeates the air as he finally stops pulling your leg. You kick your legs continuously as you try to shimmy your way back out when suddenly a sting radiates across your backside. You jump slightly at the sudden, unexpected motion. Just how hard did he slap you for it to sting through your jeans? You continue to work to free yourself when another sting radiates through your bottom half. Your attempts falter as your body and your brain begin to work on different levels. Your brain tries to process what's happening while your body,...well your body doesn't seem to understand. The dull ache left in the wake of his hand spreads through you and your body is responding in all the wrong ways. A craving starts to wake, yawning as it rises slowly in your core so when his hand connects with your ass again, you almost moan involuntarily. 

Your brain bounces everywhere. You should be trying to get away, not all but anxiously waiting for the next touch. It had been a while since someone had made you feel good and the fact that his face was hidden almost made it bearable. But he was still some weirdo dressed as a clown and you should definitely get away, shouldn’t you? You reach a hand out in front of you and put pressure on your fingers as they grasp the pavement the best they can when his fingers begin to trail the inside of your legs. You pause as they work up from your calves at a tantalizingly slow pace. The tips of his fingers barely press against your pants as they tickle and tease on their ascension. You bring your bottom lip into your mouth, gnawing it as you anticipate the touch you knew was coming. He stalled, stopping to draw lazy circles in the middle of your inner thigh and you sigh before shifting in an attempt to move his hand where you want it.  

A chuckle creeps up before his fingers continue their journey, grazing teasingly over the crotch of your jeans. You shift, pushing yourself backwards against the touch. His hand slips up towards your stomach, his fingers curling to cup you before they rub small circles against the fabric. You stifle a groan, the touch not nearly enough friction through the thick fabric of your jeans. 

His hand disappears quicker than it appeared and you almost whine in protest before you feel his hand snaking between you and the wall you were dangling against. His other hand remains on your ankle, the grip loosening slightly as his fingers work to unbutton your jeans. He slides the zipper down slowly before pushing the fabric down as best he can with one hand. You shift slightly, instinctively trying to roll yourself against his hand to no avail. He continues to push your jeans down to your knees before he brings his hand back between your legs. His fingers slip over you, sliding skillfully between your folds. He runs them back and forth lazily before bringing his fingertips to your clit. You moan quietly as the motions send tiny jolts of pleasure through you. 

His hand around your ankle loosens more as he rubs you at a teasingly slow pace, his hand still cupped as it hovers over your ankle while he waits to see if you try to escape again. You barely feel him remove his hand, your mind focused on how you could get more pleasure from his digits to even bother with trying to run even if you had. Another soft chuckle vibrates the air before you feel his opposite hand come to caress your exposed ass. You groan at the touch, pushing your hips into his hand for more friction. He pops your ass lightly as you do and you whine. The slap wasn't enough to sting but enough for you to get the point that he was in control here, not you. The teasing was frustrating despite how little of it had been given. You were already desperate for release before this and he was making it worse by drawing it out. 

He runs his hand over the curve of your ass, gripping your cheek gingerly as he tugs it towards him to expose you some. You gasp softly before a low moan quickly escapes your mouth, billowing over your lips as you wait for what you expect to come. His fingers dip slowly, tauntingly as they casually glide down the curve of your ass and dip between your legs. You shift in an attempt to open your legs up more to allow him in which causes him to chuckle again at your eagerness. His skinny fingers stop to tease your now dripping entrance. You moan as the fingers circling your clit pick up their pace ever so slightly before he slips a finger inside you. You push your hips backwards to meet him as he sinks his digit deeper in. He starts out slowly, pulling his finger almost all the way out before pushing it back in to curl repeatedly in search of your sweet spot. You shiver slightly with every stroke as it warms the embers burning in your stomach. 

His fingers work you in a rhythm, picking up in pace gradually. He slips a second finger into you and you groan, your aching fingers digging into the pavement again as your pleasure threatens to coil tight enough to snap. Your body acts on its own accord, pushing and rolling your hips between each hand faster and faster as you match his pace. He pumps in and out quickly, always making sure to stroke the sensitive spot buried in you. Your lip aches from biting back the sounds that brewed in your throat and finally, you press your forehead on the wet ground as the dam holding them back breaks. Your moans carry, vibrating along your skin to carry down to his ears. His fingers pick up, circling faster and pumping harder. The tension now festering inside was growing too fast, it was uncontrollable and finally, it broke loose. Your body shudders and you clenched around his fingers, his ministrations sending you right over the edge without a second glance. You moan into the concrete as pleasure crashes into you. His fingers don’t relent, still pumping in and out of you as he coaxes your orgasm on. 

Your body quivers slightly as you buck softly through each wave. His hand falls from your clit before his fingers slip out, leaving an emptiness in their wake. You groan and wiggle again, still wanting more despite having just gotten off. You hear his mouth pop, as if he had been sucking on his fingers before he chuckles again and you have to stifle a moan at the thought of him licking you from his fingers and enjoying it. You lift your head up, your breathing rapid as your brain tries to settle and unscramble when you feel yourself slip a little. You grip the road again to keep yourself where you are to no avail. You squeak out a small yelp and squeeze your eyes shut as your body slips more, sinking into the sewer. You brace yourself for the impact you were so sure you’d feel and when it doesn’t come, you open your eyes. 

It was dim, the soft light from the drain barely illuminating anything. Your pants were still bunched around your knees but with them were hands. You raise your eyes and turn your head and find those yellow eyes staring back at you. They gleaned but this time with lust instead of malice. His hands held your hips and he pressed his fingers into your skin lightly. You shut your eyes quickly, the sight of him sending terror to override the high you were still riding. His fingers danced against your skin causing it to prickle underneath his touch. Your body, despite better sense, ignited again as he ran his hand up your body to caress your waist. He turned you around to press his back against you and you could feel the outline of his arousal as it pressed into your bare ass. You moan quietly as his hands continue their journey, fingertips trailing as they come to cup your breasts. 

Your hand reaches back to rub against him as he paws your chest through your shirt, stopping to slip his hands under your sweater then your bra to caress your bare skin. His fingers graze over your nipples, flicking across them teasingly before he rolls them between his thumb and pointer finger. He tugs them gently and you gasp, your hand gripping his erection through his costume as you try to stroke him. You keep your eyes shut as he walks the two of you forward before coaxing you to bend. He lifts your hand from his crotch and places it against the cool, curved wall. A breath puffs from your lips at the crisp feeling against your skin, the chill a deep contrast to the heat blazing under your skin. His hands disappear from under your sweater and you hear the sound of his clothing rustling. In seconds, the hands have reappeared followed by the warmth of his skin as he grips your hips to pull you against him. 

You moan softly at the feeling of his bare erection pressing against the skin of your ass and you push yourself back towards him. He lifts his hands, one coming to spread your ass cheeks apart and the other to guide himself to your entrance. You arch your back as you offer yourself up to him and he takes the invitation, swiftly pushing himself into you. He curses lightly at the feel of you, your warmth and wetness eagerly swallowing him. His cock fills you with a fullness you hadn’t ever experienced before. You moan at the feeling of being stretched this way as he pushes into more and more. Your chest heaves as your breathing rises with every inch he buries inside you before you feel his hips against your skin again.

You hang your head, your hands resting firmly on the wall as he pulls back to slide out of you almost completely. You moan softly as he pushes himself back into you swiftly, setting the pace of the movements to follow. He starts to thrust into you fast, rocking your body with every pump. His fingers dig into the skin of your hips roughly as he pulls you to him with every forward thrust he makes. He grunts softly as you moan loudly, the sound reverberating off the walls around you. He thrusts faster, each one a little more aggressive than the last when a hand sides off your hips to caress up your back, over the base of your neck, and into your hair. His body leans over yours and you moan again as he pushes deeper into you while he fists your hair tightly. He tugs it roughly one time and you wince before he tugs again to pull your body flush with his, your back against his chest. 

You gasp and groan as your hands whip around to grip against his hips, legs, whatever you could find and his pumps into you hard and fast. His free hand comes to rest under your sweater, his bare hand holding you as it rests on your stomach. He tugs your hair again to pull your head back before he presses his lips into the crook of your neck. He pounds into you over and over while his lips glide over your neck, stopping only to allow his teeth a chance to graze the sensitive spot below your ear. His groans bounce between his lips and your ear and fuels the fire blazing dangerously in your core. You dig your nails into his skin when his hand slips from your stomach and his fingertips find your clit again. 

He rubs it almost furiously without bearing down painfully as he pumps faster into you. You rest your head against his chest, his hands still wrapped into your hair. The dam holding your sounds from earlier was all but shattered and the sounds of your moans mix with flesh colliding in the chilly, murky tunnel around you as they echo around you. You yelp as he pulls your hair harshly before letting it go, pushing your head forward as he does. He quickly forces you to lean back over and his hands find your hips again. He digs his fingers in painfully as he pulls out of you before slamming back inside roughly. The flames of your desire dance wildly with every thrust, pushing you closer and closer to combustion as he fucks you harshly. You hold yourself up on the wall as your body bounces violently in rhythm with his strokes. 

He grunts and groans in time with each one before finally the fire inside explodes. You cry out as your body convulses under him. His strokes hold pace as you clench around him, having missed the edge of your pleasure before being completely catapulted into the blaze instead. He draws it out but never lets up, his skin slapping against yours as layer after layer of desire burns through your cells. When the embers finally die, you lift your head up and let it loll back as he carries on, chasing his high. You rock back and forth in time with his body, more sounds pouring from his lips before finally he pulls out of you suddenly. The absence hardly has time to be felt before he’s spinning you around and pushing you to your knees. 

You don’t have time to think much less try to disobey before he shoves his cock into your mouth. You moan softly at the taste of you melting onto your tongue before he rocks himself against your mouth and shoves himself all the way in. You gag as he hits the back of your throat but it doesn’t stop him. He continues his chase. His fingers tangle into your hair as he guides your head back and forth to match the pace of his cock sliding in and out of your mouth. He growls before he smashes himself against the back of your throat once more. His hands hold you flush with his hips and his cock twitches as you gag around it. Tears form immediately in your eyes as you feel a warmth spurt against your raw throat. He rocks against your mouth as he chases his orgasm, making sure to coax out every drop of his release as he can as you swallow instinctively.  

When he pulls out, you gasp for air and the tears pooling in your eyes creep down your cheek slowly. You cough, leaning over slightly. You only take your eyes off him for a minute but when you lean back up merely seconds later, he is gone. You rest a hand on your chest as you wait for your body and breathing to return to their normal, calm state. You turn your head side to side as you search for him but it's empty around you. You stand up and pull your jeans up to refasten them and readjust your clothing. You run your fingers through your hair in an attempt to comb it slightly before you turn to take in the area around you. You look up at the opening of the drain and know there was no way you would be able to get out of there that way. You turn to your left and begin to walk cautiously, your body on alert in the near darkness as you wait for him to pop out at you from the darkness somewhere. 

You walk for what feels like forever before you see small beams of light cascading from the ceiling up ahead. As you get closer, a ladder comes into view. You climb up, rung by rung, stopping to press up against the heavy cover closing the path into the sewer above you. You let it crack lightly and listen before pushing it up and over. You pull yourself out onto a deserted road before standing and replacing the manhole cover. You brush yourself off and take in the area around you before recognizing where you were. When you get home, you go straight to the shower to wash off your circus sewer romp in hopes to help calm your body down. You climb into bed after and pull the covers to your chin only to be haunted by the memories of your afternoon. His face flashes through your mind, those yellow eyes boring into you. Tingles dance across your skin, teasing your arousal until you can’t take it anymore. You work yourself quickly, desperate for sleep but he was even there. 

You dreamed about him, about the way he felt inside you. You heard the noises he made and felt his hands against you all over again. You awoke the next morning just as flustered as you were when you went to sleep. And it stayed this way. Every day and every night you were haunted by the memories of him and nothing was as satisfying as the way he slammed into you. Clowns no longer scared you after that. You watched them too closely now, hoping maybe one of them was him. You knew the rumors said he never hit it twice but you were desperate and only he could fill you the way you ached for. Every giggle that floated mysteriously across the air set your body and heart off. Every drain you passed, you stared at too long, hoping whatever you tossed inside would appear back on the street again after you passed. 

You groaned softly, remembering when merely days ago you were scoffing at the unreal accusations of how half the town were brain dead, having been fucked into an addiction only to now find yourself in the same position.                  

[hd-junglebook]

Does He Know?

Part 1 - Word Count 4075

Masterlist

Authors Note: before you scroll away lets pretend Vince is not a hockey player for the plot.

Summary - In this you will meet Vince and Y/N, the beginning is so cute ngl I was kicking my feet imagining this in real life. Jack is introduced later, pls lmk what you think after you read. Enjoy !

warning - cuteness, hot men, cursing, men being men. the rest I cannot write because it's a spoiler.

Next Chapter Link Here

Y/N and Vince were snuggled up on the plush, charcoal gray couch in their cozy apartment. The living room was bathed in the warm, soft glow of the floor lamp in the corner, casting long shadows across the hardwood floors.

On the television, an episode of "The 100" played, the sound of the dramatic post-apocalyptic dialogue filling the room. As the show cut to a commercial break, Vince turned to Y/N, his dark eyes reflecting the flickering light from the TV screen.

A thoughtful expression crossed his handsome face, his brows furrowing slightly as he contemplated his next words.

"Hey, I've been thinking about something lately," he said, his deep voice barely audible over the background noise of the television.

She shifted slightly on the couch, the soft fabric of her oversized sweater brushing against Vince's arm. "Mhmm? What's on your mind, baby?" she asked, caressing his curls.

Vince took a deep breath, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "What do you think about the idea of starting a family? Of having a baby together?"

Y/N's eyes widened. A mix of joy and excitement washed over her delicate features, a rosy blush coloring her cheeks.  "Really? You want to have a baby with me?"

Vince nodded, his smile growing wider, revealing a hint of the dimples that Y/N adored. "Absolutely. I can't imagine anything better than creating a life with you, raising a child together."

Y/N felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, overwhelmed by the love and happiness that swelled in her heart. She threw her arms around Vince, hugging him tightly. The delicate clink of her silver Pandora bracelet filled the air as she caressed the soft strands of his hair.

"I would love that," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I've always dreamed of being a mom, of having a family with you."

Vince held her close, his strong arms enveloping her in a warm embrace. He stroked her hair gently, his fingers running through the silky strands.

"Just think about it," he said softly, his breath tickling her ear. "When you're tired from a long day, I'll come home and rub your feet, just like this."

He reached down and took Y/N's feet in his hands, massaging them gently. Y/N giggled, the sensation tickling her skin. The sound of the television faded into the background as "The 100" resumed, the dramatic music and dialogue a distant hum compared to the intimate moment they were sharing. Y/N giggled, the sensation tickling her skin.

"Keep going," she encouraged, sighing in contentment.

Vince grinned, continuing his ministrations, his fingers kneading the soft skin of her feet. "And whenever you get cranky or have cravings, I'll go to the convenience store and grab all your favorite snacks. I'll take care of you, every step of the way."

Y/N felt her heart swell with love for this man, for the future they were planning together. She gazed into his eyes, seeing the reflection of their dreams and hopes mirrored in their depths.

"And our baby," she said softly, "they'll have my face and your hair." Vince chuckled. "A perfect combination. They'll be the most beautiful child in the world."

They were in love, they were happy, and they were ready to start the next chapter of their lives together.

…

Four months later…

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting soft rays of gold across the spacious living room of Y/N and Vince's upscale apartment in Hoboken. Y/N stood by the window, sipping on a cup of coffee with way too much milk, her gaze fixed on the bustling city below.

"Vince," Y/N called out, turning away from the window to face her partner, who was hastily getting ready for work. The sound of Vince throwing his pajamas on the ground echoed through the room, a subtle indication of his frustration.

Y/N watched as Vince moved around the room, gathering his things and preparing for the day ahead. "Can't you stay for just a few more minutes? We barely see each other anymore."

Vince, already halfway out the door, paused for a moment, a hint of frustration flickering across her features. Vince's dark brown hair sat perfectly, catching the sunlight as he turned to face Y/N. The olive hue of his skin seemed to glow in the morning light.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," Vince replied, his voice tinged with resignation. "I've got an early meeting today. I can't afford to be late again."

Y/N's heart sank at the familiar excuse. It seemed like work always came first for Vince, leaving little time or energy for her relationship.

This became an everyday occurrence, her begging for the bare minimum and him pushing her away but always finding a way to make up for it in the bedroom. And even that had gotten boring. She forced a smile, masking her disappointment.

"That's what you always say, Vince! It's always about work with you. What about us? What about our relationship?"

Vince's eyes narrowed. "You know how important my career is to me, Y/N. I'm doing this for us, for our future."

"But what kind of future will we have if we never spend any time together? You’re not doing this for us, it’s for you," Y/N countered, her voice rising. "I feel like I'm living with a ghost. You're never here, and when you are, you're too tired or distracted to really be present."

"That's not fair," Vince argued. "I'm working hard to provide for us. I thought you understood that."

"I do understand, Vince. But I have a hard job and I’m not neglecting you. There has to be a balance. I need more than just financial security and whiskey dick every once in a while. I need a partner who is actually present in our relationship."

Vince glanced at his watch, his impatience growing. "Look, Y/N, I don't have time for this right now, I can’t stand your nagging so early in the morning. Can we talk about this later?"

Y/N threw up her hands in exasperation. "When Vince? When will you have time for me, for us? Because it feels like that time is never going to come."

Vince sighed heavily. "I promise I will come home early tonight, and we will talk. I'm doing the best I can, Y/N. I'm sorry if that's not enough for you."

With that, Vince turned and walked out the door, leaving Y/N standing alone in the bedroom. She wandered back to the office, where her computer sat waiting on the desk, surrounded by piles of paperwork.

With a heavy sigh, Y/N sank into the chair, her mind filled with thoughts of the growing distance between her and Vince.

Where had it all gone wrong?

Her eyes wandered to the framed photographs scattered throughout the room, memories frozen in time—vacations, celebrations, moments of laughter and love shared between them and Vince.

Each image seemed to mock Y/N, a painful reminder of the happiness they once shared. After a moment of introspection, she finally rose from the chair and made her way out into the hall, heading towards her office.

She busied herself with work, trying to drown out the nagging doubts and insecurities that gnawed at her mind. Hours passed in a blur, the click-clack of the keyboard the only sound in the silent apartment.

As the afternoon wore on, Y/N's phone chimed with an incoming text. Her heart leapt for a moment, hoping it was Vince with good news, but her hopes were quickly dashed. "Working late again tonight. Don't wait up. - V" the message read.

Y/N sighed heavily, disappointment washing over her. It seemed Vince was always working late these days. She couldn't remember the last time they'd had a relaxing evening together, just the two of them.

Trying to shake off the melancholy thoughts, Y/N decided a hot shower might help clear her head. She made her way to the master bathroom and turned the faucet on, letting the water heat up as she undressed.

Steam began to fill the room as she stepped into the tub and slid down until she was sitting, knees pulled up to her chest, letting the spray of water cascade over her.

The heat seeped into her tense muscles, Y/N's mind drifted to happier times with Vince. She thought back to their early days of dating, how attentive and affectionate he had been.

Weekends spent exploring the city, lazy Sunday mornings tangled up in each other, stolen kisses and inside jokes. They had been so in love, so sure of their future together.

But somehow, over the past three years, they had gotten off track. The demands of both their careers meant less and less quality time together.

At first it was just dinners cut short or date nights postponed. But soon, it felt like they were two ships passing in the night, occasionally sharing space but never really connecting.

Silent tears mixed with the rivulets of water running down Y/N's face as she sat there lost in thought. How had they let things get to this point?

Was there still a way to find their way back to each other? She wasn't sure anymore. But she knew she wasn't ready to give up on their marriage yet, even if it felt like Vince already had.

With a sigh, Y/N reached forward and shut off the water, watching the last of it swirl down the drain. She couldn't hide in here forever.

Grabbing a fluffy towel, she stepped out and began drying off, resigned to another solitary evening.

…

Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that something was off with Vince. In the week since their argument, his behavior had only become more erratic.

Late nights at the office were becoming more frequent, and when he was home, he always seemed to be on the phone, speaking in hushed tones and ending the call abruptly whenever she entered the room.

She had tried to convince herself that it was just work stress, that Vince was dealing with a big project or a demanding client. But the canceled plans and missed dinners were starting to pile up, and Y/N's suspicions were growing.

Y/N felt like a detective, piecing together clues and trying to unravel the mystery of her husband's behavior. But the picture that was emerging was not a pretty one.

Deep down, Y/N feared that Vince was hiding something from her, something that could shatter their already fragile marriage.

Amidst these swirling doubts, Y/N found herself at a family gathering, surrounded by well-meaning relatives who were all too eager to pry into her personal life. Her mother, who had never been a fan of Vince, was particularly persistent that night.

"Y/N, dear, have you met Ellens second son?" her mother asked, practically dragging a tall, handsome man over to where Y/N was standing. "He's single, successful, and quite the catch if you ask me."

Y/N's mother dragged her towards Jack, who was standing next to the piano with a champagne flute in hand. Y/N cursed under her breath as she walked hastily beside her mother.

As they approached, Jack looked up, his eyes as clear as the ocean. Y/N found herself momentarily transfixed by his gaze, a mix of confidence and intrigue.

"Hello, I'm Y/N," she introduced herself, trying to maintain her composure. "I'm sure you already know my mother." Y/N plastered on a polite smile, trying to ignore the twinge of annoyance she felt at her mother's meddling.

But as Jack started to talk, she found herself drawn in by his warmth and charm, forgetting all about the encounter.

Jack's lips curled into a small grin as he extended his hand. "Jack," he said simply, his voice smooth and inviting. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Y/N."

They shook hands, Y/N couldn't help but notice the firmness of his grip, the warmth of his skin against hers. There was something electric in his touch, a spark that made her heart skip a beat.

Her mother, sensing an opportunity, quickly excused herself. "I think I see Ellen in the crowd," she said with a knowing smile. "You two get acquainted. I'll be right back."

Y/N watched her mother disappear into the throng of guests, a mixture of relief and nervousness washing over her. She turned back to Jack, who was watching her with a curious expression.

"So…" she began, taking a sip of her margarita. "How come I haven't met you yet? I've met Quinn, but I've never seen you before."

He shrugged, trying to play it cool. "I guess we just run in different circles. Quinn's always been the social butterfly of the family." Jack sipped his drink, his eyes never leaving hers. "And what about you? What's your story, Y/N?"

Y/N hesitated, not sure how much she wanted to reveal to this handsome stranger. But there was something about Jack that made her want to open up, to let down her guard.

"Oh, you know," she said with a wry smile. "Just hangin around. I don’t really do much just work and sleep. Navigating life.

Jack's grin widened. "Aren't we all?" he said, raising his glass in a toast. "To the adventures that await us."

Y/N clinked her glass against his, feeling a rush of excitement and anticipation. There was something about Jack that made her feel alive, made her forget about the troubles and doubts that had been plaguing her.

He had a quick wit and an easy laugh, and Y/N found herself relaxing in his presence. Jack seemed genuinely interested in her, asking questions about her life and her interests. It was a stark contrast to the distant, distracted Vince she had been living with lately as they sipped their drinks.

As the evening wore on, Y/N couldn't help but notice the way Jack's eyes lingered on her, the way his hand brushed against hers as he reached for a drink. There was an undeniable attraction there, a spark that she hadn't felt in a long time.

But there was also something else about Jack, an edge of fun and mystery. He had a bit of a bad boy vibe, the kind of man her mother would normally warn her away from. Maybe that was part of the appeal, the thrill of a chase.

As the party wound down and Y/N said her goodbyes, Jack slipped a piece of paper into her hand. "My number," he said with a wink. "In case you ever want to grab a coffee and chat."

Y/N tucked the paper into her pocket, feeling a mix of excitement and guilt. She knew it was wrong to even consider reaching out to Jack, not when she was still married to Vince. But the seed had been planted, the temptation was there.

“I’m married, but I hope this isn't the last time we cross paths." y/n said as she took his hand in hers once more. "It was great meeting you, Jack."

"I hope not either," he said softly, meeting her gaze.

With a final squeeze of her hand and a roguish wink, Jack turned and melted into the crowd, leaving Y/N standing alone with her thoughts and her racing heart before she composed herself.

…

The soft click of the front door lock echoed through the quiet apartment as Vince stepped inside, a bouquet of vibrant red roses in one hand and a rustling plastic bag filled with Y/N's favorite snacks in the other.

The sweet, floral scent of the roses mingled with the aroma of buttery popcorn and rich chocolate wafting from the bag, creating an enticing blend that filled the entryway.

Vince's footsteps were muffled by the plush, cream-colored carpet as he made his way into the living room. The soft glow of the table lamp cast a warm, inviting light across the space, illuminating the cozy leather armchair and the intricately patterned throw blanket draped over its back.

As he rounded the corner, Vince's eyes fell upon Y/N, curled up on the overstuffed sofa, a well-worn paperback novel resting in her lap.

She looked up at the sound of his approach, her eyes widening slightly as she took in the sight of him standing there, an apologetic smile on his face and his arms laden with gifts.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other, a myriad of emotions passing between them in the silence. Y/N's gaze flickered from the roses to the snack bag, her brows furrowing slightly in confusion.

"What is that?" she asked, her voice soft and tinged with curiosity.

Vince took a step closer, extending the bouquet towards her. The crinkle of the cellophane wrapping seemed to punctuate the moment as he held them out, a peace offering.

"I'm sorry I ditched you," he said, his voice low and sincere. "I'll be home more from now on."

Y/N's expression softened as she reached out to take the roses, her fingers brushing against Vince's as she accepted them.

She brought the blooms to her nose, inhaling deeply, her eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment as she savored their delicate fragrance.

A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips, a hint of forgiveness in the curve of her mouth.

"Thank you," she murmured, setting the roses down on the coffee table with a gentle thud. The polished wood gleamed in the lamplight, reflecting the deep scarlet of the petals.

"And the snacks?" she asked, eyeing the bag with a mix of amusement and appreciation.

Vince grinned, the tension in his shoulders easing as he sensed her mood shifting. He plopped down on the sofa beside her, the cushions giving way beneath his weight with a soft whoosh.

"All your favorites," he said, rummaging through the bag, the crinkle of plastic and the rustle of packaging filling the air. "Popcorn, those little chocolate truffles you love, and..." he paused for dramatic effect, pulling out a small, familiar blue box, "your favorite tea."

Y/N let out a small, delighted laugh, the sound like music to Vince's ears. She reached for the box, turning it over in her hands, the cardboard smooth beneath her fingertips.

"You remembered," she said, her voice warm with affection.

"Of course I did," Vince replied, his tone light and teasing. "I may be forgetful sometimes, but I could never forget the little things that make you happy."

Y/N leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder, the softness of her hair brushing against his cheek. Vince wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer, the heat of her body seeping into his own.

For a moment, they sat there in comfortable silence, the soft ticking of the clock on the mantle and the distant hum of the refrigerator the only sounds in the room.

"I really am sorry," Vince said after a while, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know I haven't been around as much as I should be, but I promise, that's going to change."

Y/N tilted her head to look up at him, her eyes searching his face, a glimmer of hope and love shining in their depths. "I believe you," she said softly, reaching up to cup his cheek, her thumb brushing gently across his skin. "We'll make this work, together."

Vince turned his head, pressing a tender kiss to her palm, the warmth of his lips a silent promise.

…

It has been two weeks since her encounter with jack, now here she sat at her desk. She couldn't deny the spark she had felt, the way he had made her feel seen and desired in a way she hadn't experienced in a long time.

But even as she replayed their conversations in her head, a nagging sense of guilt tugged at her heart. She was still married to Vince, even if their relationship had been strained lately, he had done his best to come home earlier but duty calls.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Y/N turned her attention to the pile of mail on her desk. She began sorting through the envelopes, her mind only half-focused on the task.

Bills, junk mail, a postcard from her sister's latest vacation...and then her hand stilled on a plain white envelope with no return address.

Frowning, Y/N tore open the envelope, her curiosity piqued Inside was a single sheet of paper, folded in half. As she unfolded it, her eyes widened in shock and disbelief.

It was a hotel receipt, dated from last weekend. The name on the receipt was Vince's, but the room was booked for two people. And there, at the bottom of the receipt, was a charge for a bottle of champagne and a couples' massage.

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as the reality of what she was seeing sank in. Vince had been at a hotel with someone else, someone he had been intimate with. The betrayal hit her like a physical blow, stealing the breath from her lungs.

With shaking hands, Y/N reached for her phone. She scrolled through her recent calls until she found Vince's number and hit the call button.

It rang once, twice, three times before he picked up. "Hey babe, I’m really busy right now, can I call you later?” Vince's voice sounded casual, unaware of the bombshell that was about to be dropped.

"We need to talk," Y/N said, her voice trembling with barely contained emotion. "Can you come home please? It's important."

There must have been something in her tone that alerted Vince to the severity of the situation because he agreed without hesitation. "I'll be there in 20 minutes."

Y/N hung up the phone and took a deep, shuddering breath. She didn't know how she was going to confront Vince, what she was going to say.

All she knew was that their marriage, their life together, was about to change forever.

…

When Vince walked through the door, Y/N was waiting for him in the living room. His clothes were scattered around the apartment and their photos had been broken, the glass shards still remaining on the floor.

The smell of a floral perfume that definitely was not hers wafted into her nose.

She held up the hotel receipt, her eyes filled with tears and her voice shaking with anger. "What is this, Vince? And don't you dare try to lie to me."

Vince's face paled as he realized what she was holding. "A receipt?”

"No, you idiot!” Y/N cried, the tears now flowing freely down her face. "You've been cheating on me? You've been lying to me, sneaking around behind my back?"

"It's not what you think," Vince tried to defend himself, but his words sounded hollow even to his own ears.

"It's exactly what I think!" Y/N shouted. "How could you do this to me, to us? You were out getting rub downs at some hotel, Vince. I loved you."

Vince reached for her, but Y/N recoiled from his touch. She couldn't bear the thought of him touching her, not now, not after what he had done.

“I would cry myself to sleep next to you and you would turn away and complain. You didn’t care that you weren’t loving me the way I deserve to be loved!”

"Y/N, please," Vince pleaded. "It was a mistake. It didn't mean anything. I’ll end it right now, just...just please stop crying."

But Y/N wasn't listening anymore. She was lost in her own pain, her own sense of betrayal. The man she had built a life with, the man she had trusted with her heart, had shattered everything with his infidelity.

Y/N shook her head. "I don't know if we can fix this one, Vince. I don't know if I can ever trust you again. What am I supposed to do?" she questioned, her voice trembling with emotion as she looked up to meet his eyes with more emotion she had ever felt in her life.

“How long has this been going on.”

Vince's gaze faltered, his expression clouded with guilt and regret. He looked down at the cream-colored carpet, unable to meet Y/N's gaze. "Remember when I asked you to start a family?" he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

A flood of memories washed over her—dreams of a future together, plans for a family they had once shared.

…

Taglist <3

@rebelatbay @destineyxo13

[mgghoney]

pairing// matthew gray gubler and reader || wc// 488

summary// where the sun beams at you, bright and sugared, honeyed and kind

"you know, if I had a dollar for each time I've seen you go through it on this show I'd be rich."

Matt breaks out into a laugh on the other side of the call, lips quirking up and head tilting affectionately as he hums.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. The drug thing, the anthrax thing, the dead girlfriend thing, the jail thing... let's not even talk about the people who just keep leaving. It's a gift that just keeps on giving or whatever it's called." You pause. "It's like Spencer is just an OC and you're enjoying torturing him."

When Matt goes quiet on the line, you roll your eyes.

"At least you never die."

"Been pretty close."

"Twice." You tap the desk slowly, and you sigh. "Well, at least you're making out with people in your other roles."

"Not exactly torture, huh?"

"Yeah." You mumble.

He glances at your background, raising a brow at the gloominess. "You're back home early."

"Start in two weeks." You hum. "Wanted to be back in my apartment while no one's home."

"That's not super safe."

"I have security." You wave your hand. "Come visit me sometime?"

"I'll drop by when I'm back. Promise."

"I'd like my camera back soon." Your lip quirks up, and he sighs.

"No can do. I'm on the last roll of the box I bought for you."

You feign hurt, holding your chest as you huff.

"I promise the photos look good."

"Are they of family? My camera's pretty bad. It was clearly made more for aesthetics than use."

"Well, we all start somewhere."

"You used flash, right?"

"Yes."

"Alright." You mumble, glancing at your screen as you continue the show. "Oh, Canada episode."

"Ah, the pigs." He hums. "Remember it being pretty morbid."

"Way to spoil it for me." You grumble.

"...what."

You watch the color drain out of Matt's face, and you throw your head back in laughter, hand over your mouth as you pause the episode to disappear from the camera to under your desk.

"How'd you not get spoiled with that episode?"

"I'm kidding. I saw the pigpen scene before I even knew it. I didn't realize it was this one." You settle back in your seat, tilting your head as Matt stops mid-walk to talk to someone, and you go back to the episode.

You stay quiet despite knowing that Matt probably has you in an earbud. If you wanted to, you could speak up, but you find simple pleasures in watching Matt beam at his fans and light up the room.

You pause the video to smile with him.

A bright ray of sun in a gloomy city you both call home.

When he unmutes, you quirk a brow up at his stare.

"Hm?"

"Sorry. Just saw the sun flash at me."

He beams at you, and you laugh.

"You wanna see it again?"

"Always."

And the sun beams at you once more.

[wallpapers4screen]

[nabi-unveiled]

15 Day BL Challenge: 3 4 Best Kisses

Best for what purposes? Seriously, I could give you dozens of amazing kisses. Some are pretty. Some are steamy. Some serve narrative in spades. There's a lot of ways to approach this prompt.

In the end, I went for four kisses that I have purposely sought out JUST to watch the kiss on more than one occasion.

Boys Be Brave - Under the Bed

I debated including this one because this pair gives great hugs too, and I know hugs is another category coming. However, this is one of my favorite kisses. I LOVE the music in this scene. I LOVE the blocking. I LOVE that baby boy is the one that turns it into a kiss. It's sooo soft, but the emotion comes through the screen in spades. Yeah, let me just go watch this again right now. I need a pick-me-up.

Eighth Sense - The Story Kiss

Music means a lot to me. As such, the soundtrack can make or break a scene. Just like the previous kiss, the music serves here. Conan Gray is playing in the background. The song works SO well for this pair, and the timing of the scene until they find each other is exquisite. It's a reunion, but it's more like a homecoming.

Fourever You - Cafe Kiss

My kinks are going to show on this one. I've said before that I love couples with a d/s power dynamic. Johan grabbing North's neck here and diving in not caring about whatever else was around them...🥵 Did I mention there is an abrupt neck grab? I want. Please. 🥺

Personal Weatherman - Rooftop Kiss

I already listed this series as my comfort show. I don't care. I'll list it again. On my rainy days, this show is a ray of sunshine. I know they are crap communicators, but they NEED each other. Screw the rest of the world. Let's be domestic together. This kiss? It's raw need. Plus, Yoh was beautiful here. It's a very good look for him.

For those interested in the challenge: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

[operationslipperypuppet]

Home is Where the Hearth Is - Emily Axford (2024)

they made a pact. they broke the pact. they spent tens of thousands of years alone. and now, perhaps, they can start to be whole again.

image description under the cut:

[ID: two images that are show comic panels.

the first image is 16 comic panels showing words and drawings to correlate with the words.

from left to right, top to bottom, they are:

1: a light green background with the words "they say the" and then a gold circle with a cross stitch inside it, with the words "home is where the hearth is" stitched in, with a roof above "home" and a fireplace between the i and s of "is".

2: a light yellow panel showing a gold dragon breathing fire and a large yellow divine heart with blue and green veins with a humanoid with yellow hair, yellow skin, green pants, a brown tunic, and brown boots, (Telaine, the gold dragon) reaching out to touch it. there is a green and gold overlay to both so they appear to be glowing. the words over it say "and fire heals the soul".

3: a light blue panel with darker blue footprints moving through the panel, as though walking through snow. the words read "but you've been trudging through the cold".

4: a wintry scene with a humanoid in a green cloak with yellow pants and green, leaf-covered boots (Melora), cloak blowing in the wind. the sky is gray and the ground in front of her shows a blue patch of ice. blue snow overlays the entire scene. the words read "you have been traveling through ice and snow".

5: a light green panel showing a teal pocket watch and a green arrow with green, yellow, and blue feathers. the words read "'cause time isn't an arrow".

6: a light blue panel with a dark blue man, Aryox, with his chin tilted upwards, a blue knife pointing at his throat, lifting his chin upwards. the blue knife is inscribed with runes. the words read “it’s a dagger at your throat”.

7: a light blue panel showing two figures, frozen statues, one teal (Aryox) and one a different shade of light blue (Raedak). Raedak’s arms are extended and he is holding a sword, which has intercepted Aryox’s head. Aryox’s elbows are bent and shards of ice, the same color as him, extend into Raedak. the words read “and you are numb from head to toe”.

8: a light yellow panel showing a gray divine heart with golden veins. three hands; one blue, one green, and one yellow, extend toward the heart, as though to take it. the words read “and all your blood has turned to stone”.

9: a light green panel showing a log cabin with one side blue, one side green, a yellow roof with a green chimney, and a green window and door. below it is a green hand reaching out to the right as though to take another hand that is not there. the words read “so come home to me”.

10: a light green panel with a small fire on two logs and a purple and white tea pot with leaves as part of its design and steam coming out of the spout. the words read “the fire’s warm and I am making tea”.

11: a light green panel showing an image of the sun with an orange center and yellow rays surrounding it and a cream yellow crescent moon below it, surrounded by stars. the words read “the day has turned to night”.

12: a light blue panel showing a blue hand turned downward and blueish gray snowflakes extending down from the hand. below it is a smaller image of the frozen statues from panel 7, one teal (Aryox) and one a different shade of light blue (Raedak). Raedak’s arms are extended and he is holding a sword, which has intercepted Aryox’s head. Aryox’s elbows are bent and shards of ice, the same color as him, extend into Raedak. the words read “and all the snow has hardened into ice”.

13: a light green panel with an image of a pair of green boots with leaves drawn into them that have green laces, the boots Melora is wearing in panel 4. the toes and bottoms of the boots are speckled with light blue water stains. the words read “your boots are stained with slush”.

14: an outdoor scene with Melora, clad in her green cloak and green boots which are blowing in the wind approaching a light blue cave with a different blue interior. in front of the mouth of the cave is a light blue arctic fox, Lumi, who is glowing with a blue aura. the wall of the cave immediately inside of it is carved with an image of a gray divine heart with golden veins. three hands; one blue, one green, and one yellow, extend toward the heart, as though to take it, from panel 8. the sky is a grayish blue and snow overlays the entire image. the words read “and the northern winds ain’t letting up”.

15: a light yellow panel showing an image of an intricate gold cloak with a hood and many shades of yellow to create shadows and an intricate pattern. the words read “and your best coat can’t compete”.

16: a light green panel with a wooden window showing a purple night sky with the cream yellow crescent moon and stars from panel 11. in the foreground is a dark wooden table with two pairs of arms and hands on it, one pair is yellow and the other pair is green. the arms are resting on the table and the people are holding hands. the words read “with an evening in good company”.

the second image is 15 comic panels showing words and drawings to correlate with the words.

from left to right, top to bottom, they are:

1: a light blue image showing the teal head and torso of the frozen statue of Aryox from panel 7 of the above image. halfway down the torso, the color changes to the dark blue color he is in panel 6 of the above image (when he was alive). the dark blue is giving way to the teal. the words read “frozen half to death”.

2: a light blue panel showing an image of a pink bowl of hot soup on a matching pink plate with a spoon resting on the plate. the broth in the bowl is tan and has green onions floating on its surface. there is gray steam coming out of the bowl. below it is an image of a bed with a brown wooden frame. the made is made with purple sheets and pillows under a royal blue blanket. the words read “you need a hot meal and your bed”.

3: a light blue panel showing an image of a cushioned purple armchair. draped over the chair is a flannel blanket, the majority of which is yellow but has dark blue vertical stripes and dark green horizontal stripes. there is a fringe at the edge of the blanket that is alternating with the blue, green, and yellow of the rest of the blanket. the words read “you need a blanket and some rest”.

4: a light blue panel showing an image of a small purple teacup with brown liquid inside and steam coming off the top. there is a lemon wedge on the rim of the cup. below it is an image of a piece of brown bread with a layer yellow butter covering its surface. the words read “you need a toddy and some buttered bread”.

5: a panel that is twice the size of the other panels, separated into three triangles by gray lines. the left triangle shows a gold dragon flying upwards with its mouth open with a light green background. the center and largest triangle shows a temple with dark and light green stones constructing it, and large columns at the front. the top of the temple has a craving of a wavelike swirl at the center, the symbol of the goddess Melora. the right triangle shows a gray divine heart with golden veins. three hands; one blue, one green, and one yellow, extend toward the heart, as though to take it, the image from panel 8 of the above image, on a blue background like the cave wall in panel 14 of the above image. there are a pair of blue hands in front of it, holding a chisel and mallet, carving that image into the cave wall. the words across the top of the three triangles read “wear the mantle like an albatross” and across the bottom read “and never take it off”.

6: a light blue panel showing an image of the teal torso and head the frozen statue of Aryox from panel 7 of the above image, with the light blue sword of Raedak overlaying his head, as it does in the statue. the words read “you let yourself grow numb”.

7: a light blue panel showing a green hand reaching out to the back of the frozen teal statue of Aryox from panel 7 of the above image. between the statue are layers of blue and purple energy, keeping the hand away from being able to touch the statue. the words read “‘cause you’re too proud to need someone”.

8: a light yellow panel showing a log cabin with one side blue, one side green, a yellow roof with a green chimney, and a green window and door. below it is a yellow hand reaching out to the right as though to take another hand that is not there. the words read “so come home to me”.

9: a light yellow panel with a small fire on two logs and a purple and white tea pot with leaves as part of its design and steam coming out of the spout. the words read “the fire’s warm and I am making tea”.

10: a light yellow panel showing an image of the sun with an orange center and yellow rays surrounding it and a cream yellow crescent moon below it, surrounded by stars. the words read “the day has turned to night”.

11: a light blue panel showing a blue hand turned downward and blueish gray snowflakes extending down from the hand. below it is a smaller image of the frozen statues from panel 7 of the above image, one teal (Aryox) and one a different shade of light blue (Raedak). Raedak’s arms are extended and he is holding a sword, which has intercepted Aryox’s head. Aryox’s elbows are bent and shards of ice, the same color as him, extend into Raedak. the words read “and all the snow has hardened into ice”.

12: an image showing the blue cave wall with an icy blue floor and the feet and legs teal statue of Aryox. there is an additional layer of blue ice overlaying the feet of the statue. the words read “the cold has got its claws in you”.

13: an outdoor scene of two figures walking together through the snow up a light blue hill. on the left is Melora, in her green cloak, green boots, and yellow pants, braid peeking out from the cloak which is blowing with the wind. to her right is Telaine, with a golden yellow cloak, brown boots, and light blue pants. the sky is a slightly darker blue than the ground. snow overlays the scene. the words read ���oh, the weather she can be so cruel”.

14: a light blue panel showing the torso of the teal frozen statue of Aryox. on the part of his leg that is visible is a pair of snowdrops, white bell shaped flowers drooping off of green stems. at his back are two hands, a yellow one above a green one, both of which are touching him. dark blue emanates from both hands, spreading throughout the rest of him in concentric circles. the words read “but home is where the healing starts”.

15: a light yellow panel with an image of 4 arms and hands, one yellow and one green each holding the hands of the two blue arms, as though to guide them somewhere. below that is an image of a fireplace, with brick walls, a stone border, and wooden mantle and baseboards. there is a fire at the center with two logs, the same one from panel 9 of this image. the words read “so come in from the dark and find the hearth”. /end ID]

[andreas-river]

THE PRICE OF AGONY

TW: angst, hurt/no comfort, written with f!reader in mind. And I definitely trauma dumped on this. I wrote this a long time ago inspired by the song "The Price Of Agony" by Fit For A King.

PAIRING: Nikto x F!Reader

A/N: requests are open!

Since you grew up, you knew perfectly that you should always be careful. Careful with yourself, with decisions, with friends and lovers. Those stern words pronounced by your mother repeated themselves like a broken record, reminding you of all those mistakes, guilt tripping inside your stomach and twisting your insides painfully — your heart burning still in shame.

So weak, so stupid, revealing your secret about loving someone who never dared to spare a word with you. The cup of tea Dmitry gave you was already cold between your hands, losing yourself in the reflection of the liquid. 'Never forget to drink something when you feel down', a small attempt of babysitting you after that day, still feeling everyone's eyes on you the moment you stepped inside the cafeteria, now empty and with only the ticking sound of the clock in the background, the low lights helping you blend within the darkness.

It felt good being hidden in it, far away from the spotlight — but you never imagined it would happen. She looked so trustworthy, always inviting you with others comrades at lunch and asking you so many questions — maybe that was the reason, you lowered all of your defenses in front of her, telling her that you liked someone of your squad, telling her his name with a hushed tone with your heart thumping wildly in your chest. You recalled your own words, because you still didn't know what drove you so much to him, enveloped in an enigmatic aura, with so many pieces around that made it difficult putting them together and figuring out the whole picture of the puzzle.

But why did it hurt so much?

Not even crying helped, since it only made your heart hurt even more, a weight pressing down on it and making breathing a difficult task, quiet sobs turn into loud gasps, the full cup of tea already forgotten in the table, burying your head between your knees, the same position you found yourself so many times when you were younger — and even if you were now a full grown adult, nothing changed at all.

You sink into yourself even more, closing your eyes and failing to notice the looming shadow behind the door.

He didn't move, forgetting to breathe. He felt the same too, long nights spent to cry his pain out, failing miserably as the first ray of the sun lightened his room. He, too, chose the darkness as his safest place — no one would judge, no one would see him, only his voices inside his head making the place too damn loud. He was silent, always alone, but he didn't fail to notice you, or the mess you found yourself in the other day. Everyone was talking about you, making him wish that he could shut them all up for good.

He left his room only when necessary, and tonight was an exception. He shouldn't be there listening to your cries, but he couldn't stop himself when he heard Dmitry mumbling something about making some more tea for you, since you skipped meals lately and worrying about your health. Lying to himself was impossible, facing the truth inside him, but he didn't dare to step inside. It would hurt you even more if in that moment you saw the cause of your pain right in front of your very eyes.

He once believed that love was something that one day would be part of him, but that was in the past, a past once more colorful, his days now filled in gray and sorrow. They were screaming inside his head, one of them telling him to go away and never look back, but another one to close the distance between him and your shaking form.

He didn't listen to them at all, feeling stuck in his steps for the first time. He could've done more, but he remained still with his back on the wall, with closed fists hanging at his sides, knowing too well that he did not deserve you, all of that love you had — you couldn't waste it for him anymore.

Managing to take a step further away and resolved to go back to his room, his boots stopped again when a familiar figure was standing still and watching him, the undecipherable look on Dmitry's face stopping him in his tracks.

---

You massaged your neck for the umpteenth time that morning, muscles too stiff from the uncomfortable position you fell asleep nights ago on that chair of the cafeteria, waking up only one hour later, the fragrance of the tea barely present in the air. You manage to drink it in a few sips, the cold liquid leaving a bittersweet taste on your tongue — you definitely forget to put sugar in it, putting the cup away and taking some more minutes to stretch your stiff bones.

The days passed too slowly for your liking, distractedly listening to Rodion as he talked about which tablet purchasing since his old one abandoned him to met his tragic fate, and he couldn't stop complain for a single moment — he was almost at the end of a TV serie, and he wanted to see it so bad but he couldn't anymore. You felt grateful since he didn't bring that subject at all, saving you from the shame you still felt on your skin.

That topic still burned inside you like a flame, the only thing stuck on your mind, and not even listening to Rodion's banter helped to take your mind off. If you were called on a mission, you would definitely be in big trouble, and you were pretty sure that with that unfocused mind of yours you would end up killed sooner than later — a voice in your head whispering that it wouldn't be that bad, at least you wouldn't face that shame anymore.

You shook your head — no, you shouldn't have those thoughts even if you were joking, they were a deep hole you had already closed years ago—

"You are not listening to me, aren't you?"

A new wave of shame washed over you, going back to reality and where Rodion actually stopped his complaints. He sighs, adjusting himself to fully face you, his face strangely serious as he stares at your blank expression. He barely showed his sensitive side to anyone, protected by his exuberant behavior and a smirk always plastered on his face. No one could ever imagine him to be like that.

"Why don't you talk to him?" His tone is obvious, like stating obvious facts, making you roll your eyes annoyed.

Your angry stare doesn't make him falter at all, raising his brows and crossing his arms on his chest, trying to enforce his suggestion. Maybe he was right, but how in the world you could even talk to him, his mere presence in the same room made you desire that invisibility was a real thing, and not only from some movies you saw during your childhood.

"And what should I say to him?" the lump in your throat made your words out like a whine, swallowing before continuing. "He already knows everything, because everyone knows."

"Ask him something — anything it's better than nothing." You can easily say that he was really thinking hard, his eyes lost in front of him as he was thinking of a way to help.

And it makes you actually smile, after all of those days passed alone in your room, reminding you that you weren't alone. But when you realize that it doesn't make you feel any better, somehow it was your own selfishness that made you get up, telling him that you were going to think about it, at least — one of the worst lies you've ever said in your entire life, you leave your smile behind. Maybe it's better this way, while everything will remain the same as ever — like strangers.

[starryeyedwolves]

The Colors of You

The gallery was quiet, save for the soft hum of classical music playing in the background. Regulus stood in the corner, his arms crossed, his sharp features illuminated by the soft glow of the overhead lights. His dark curls framed his face perfectly, and his piercing gray eyes scanned the room, observing the patrons as they moved from one painting to the next.

He hated these events. The pretentious small talk, the fake smiles, the way people tried to interpret his art as if they could ever understand what he was trying to say. But his friend and manager, Barty, had insisted. "You need to sell, Reg. Art doesn’t pay for itself," he’d said. Regulus had rolled his eyes but agreed, if only to shut him up.

His paintings were scattered across the walls, each one a burst of color and emotion. They were abstract, chaotic, and deeply personal. Regulus poured his soul into every brushstroke, every layer of paint. His art was his escape, his way of expressing the things he could never say out loud.

And then he walked in.

Regulus noticed him immediately. It was hard not to. The man was a walking ray of sunshine, his messy dark hair sticking up in every direction, his glasses slightly askew. He wore a jacket over a band t-shirt and jeans, looking entirely out of place in the sea of suits and cocktail dresses. But what caught Regulus’s attention most were his eyes—bright, Hazel, and full of life.

The man—James, as Regulus would later learn—wandered through the exhibit, stopping at each painting. He didn’t just glance at them; he studied them. His brow furrowed in concentration, and Regulus found himself oddly captivated by the way James’s fingers twitched, as if he wanted to reach out and touch the canvases.

Regulus watched as James stopped in front of his favorite piece, a large canvas titled "Eclipse." It was a swirl of blacks, grays, and golds, with a single streak of red cutting through the center. It was raw, emotional, and deeply personal. Most people didn’t get it. They called it "dark" or "depressing." But James… James stood there for what felt like an eternity, his eyes tracing every line, every brushstroke.

And then he turned to Regulus.

Their eyes met, and Regulus felt something shift in the air. James smiled, a warm, genuine smile that made Regulus’s chest tighten. He walked over, his hands shoved into his pockets, and Regulus braced himself for the usual barrage of questions or compliments.

But James surprised him.

"That one," James said, nodding toward "Eclipse." "It’s… it’s like you took everything I’ve ever felt and put it on a canvas. I don’t know how you did it, but… it’s incredible."

Regulus blinked, caught off guard. No one had ever described his art like that before. "You… you get it?" he asked, his voice softer than he intended.

James nodded. "Yeah. I mean, I don’t know if I get it get it, but… it feels like you’re telling a story. Like there’s this battle going on, between light and dark, and you’re not sure which one’s winning. But there’s hope, too. That little bit of gold in the corner… it’s like you’re saying it’s not over yet."

Regulus stared at him, his heart pounding in his chest. No one had ever seen that in his painting before. No one had ever understood.

"You’re the artist, right?" James asked, tilting his head. "Regulus Black?"

Regulus nodded, still too stunned to speak.

James grinned. "I’m James. James Potter. And I need to buy that painting."

Over the next few weeks, James became a regular at the gallery. He’d show up unannounced, always with a coffee in hand, and they’d talk for hours. At first, it was about art. James asked endless questions about Regulus’s process, his inspiration, his favorite artists. But soon, the conversations shifted. They talked about music, books, their favorite places in the city. James told him about his job as a photographer, his love for capturing fleeting moments. Regulus found himself opening up in ways he never had before.

But it wasn’t just the conversations. It was the way James looked at him, like he saw something no one else did. It was the way he made Regulus laugh, really laugh, for the first time in years. It was the way he’d casually touch his arm or shoulder, sending shivers down Regulus’s spine.

And then there were the late nights. James would show up at the gallery after hours, and they’d sit on the floor, surrounded by Regulus’s paintings, talking until the sun came up. One night, James brought his camera and took photos of Regulus as he painted. Regulus had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable. But with James, it didn’t feel scary. It felt… safe.

But of course, it couldn’t be that simple.

Regulus had always been guarded, always kept people at arm’s length. He’d been hurt too many times to let anyone in. And James… James was everything he wasn’t. Bright, open, fearless. Regulus didn’t know how to handle that. He didn’t know how to handle him.

One night, after a particularly intense conversation, Regulus snapped. "Why do you even care?" he demanded, his voice shaking. "Why do you keep coming back?"

James looked at him, his expression unreadable. "Because I see you, Regulus," he said quietly. "And I think you’re incredible."

Regulus’s breath caught in his throat. He wanted to believe him, wanted to let himself fall into the warmth of James’s words. But the fear was too strong. "You don’t know me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "You don’t know what I’ve done, what I’ve been through."

James stepped closer, his eyes never leaving Regulus’s. "Then tell me," he said. "Let me in."

Regulus shook his head, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. "I can’t."

James reached out, his hand hovering just above Regulus’s cheek. "You can," he said softly. "You’re not alone anymore."

And then, before Regulus could protest, James kissed him.

It was soft, tentative, like he was afraid Regulus would break. But Regulus didn’t break. Instead, he melted into it, his hands gripping James’s jacket like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. For the first time in his life, he felt seen. He felt wanted.

The next morning, Regulus woke up in James’s arms, his head resting on James’s chest. The sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a golden glow over the room. Regulus looked up at James, his heart swelling with something he couldn’t quite name.

"Hey," James said, his voice rough with sleep. "You okay?"

Regulus nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah," he said. "I’m okay."

For the first time in a long time, he meant it.