#to nim is to steal

[pigeonstab]

three cycles

for that one anon who wanted to see more of New guardians. I just redesigned them because actually I'm really not good at making stories lol.

[wovenstarlight]

also before I forget. happy birthday Kang Soyoung I hope you get to hang out with all your favorite dragons today

[kaiser1ns]

#. 매니저님, 감사합니다 !

featuring 𝘀𝗮𝗷𝗮 𝗯𝗼𝘆𝘀 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

fluff. equal parts of chaotic, cute, and crackhead energy and you alongside the mix as the babysitter manager of the boys.

JOINING THE PRIDE at first, no one knew who you were. you looked more like a crazy fangirl or someone who got in with sheer pretty privilege. people online were confused. who’s is she and why is she fixing abby’s shirt? why is romance letting her touch his hair? why is she carrying baby’s backpack like a mom on a field trip? why did they listen to you?

people assumed you were a saesang, until the company confirmed you were, in fact, their manager.

yes, their official manager. the person responsible for their schedule, performances, social media coordination, and not letting them accidentally create a scandal or make you lose your sanity. the last one it’s not going well.

you even had your own tag: #SajaHunter but fans quickly turned it into #SajaPrincess because somehow you became the bias, the bias wrecker and the ultimate bias. fan edits? everywhere. fanfics? people want you, literally. someone made a fancam of you sneezing and it hit 2M views for the first eight hours.

THE LIONESS WHO RULED your popularity exploded overnight. fans started asking for your autograph at meet & greets. they begged you to join the group and perform. the boys had no say in this. why? because if the fans want something, they get it.

sure, maybe it helps their corruption plans. maybe corrupted souls taste better when people adore the whole group. you're a better marketing strategy than they ever expected, but they won't tell you that.

your own schedule just got a hell of a lot longer, because now you have to learn choreography and lyrics under twenty-four hours. congrats, you are the 6th unofficial member!

THE SODA POP CIRCUS their debut song became a number one hit. “soda pop” took over charts, and so did you… unintentionally. during a performance, you accidentally wandered into the camera frame, because you were just checking the mic levels, okay? we don't want to have any technical issues, and boom, you were given the centre position.

jinu noticed you looked a little overwhelmed, so he calmly walked you through the choreo in front of thousands of fans like it was nothing. abby joined, then romance and before you knew it, it was “manager-nim meet & dance”.

and of course… the shipping tags started. the fandom loves you and jinu. no, abby is better? you have to be joking, romance is right there! but mystery is so calm around you, and baby even freestyles for you!

YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH THE SAJA BOYS, or your babysitting shift that no one pays you for.

JINU is one cocky, smirking, definitely suspicious, extremely good looking man. he acts like he doesn’t want you interfering in his plans, whatever those are, but deep down, he’s the first to notice when you’re tired or stressed.

one time you tripped backstage, and he caught you in his arms like a literal k-drama moment. you swear time slowed down, the lighting was perfect, the atmosphere was unrealistically romantic and there was music coming from who knows where. his smile? blinding.

then he dropped you.

like right on the floor after he stared right into your soul. you assigned him to night duty after that. studio lockup, cleaning everything alone. no complaints from him, though. he just smirked and wished you a good night.

“you keep falling for me.” “i’ll fall on you next time, jinu.”

ABBY is a shirtless menace, even worse he is a walking thirst trap. probably allergic to buttons. you’ve tried to make him dress appropriately, but does he listen? no. instead, he stands shirtless in front of you asking,

“this one or this one? can’t decide, wanna style me?”

he’s built like a greek statue and knows it. he flirts with his eyes, lips, abs, his entire existence. steals your phone, takes normal selfies, then mirror ones and cherry on the top is when he fills your gallery with thirst traps. now 99% of your storage is abby, and the other 1% is screenshots of your to-do list.

still, he’s protective: carries your bags, shields you in crowds, even throws an arm around you when paparazzi swarm.

“don’t worry, princess. i will be your sanctuary.”

ROMANCE lives up to his name. heartthrob, gentleman, professional flirt. somehow always knows where you are in a room and always finds a way to be close enough to brush your shoulder.

he makes hearts appear from thin air. you hope it’s cgi or some special effects. probably not, but you won't question it.

he constantly asks your opinion on fashion, only to wear whatever you say makes him look “most kissable.” his excuse? “the fans like it.”

he winks at you during interviews. throws air kisses during rehearsals. and when you get flustered?

“aww, manager-nim, blushing again? you’re so cute when you try to be professional.”

this boy flirts without even speaking. one way or another he will always keep you close, especially when it's a crowded space, he will hold your hand, because he doesn't want to lose you.

MYSTERY with his face usually covered, speaks in hums and nods. you suspect he’s either an introvert… or plotting global domination, possibly both.

he’s usually calm, soft, and sweet until he isn't.

one time, a male fan got way too close to you and the next thing you knew, mystery was growling and biting the guy’s arm like a possessive and territorial lion. you had to spray him with water ... no, you are not joking, you had to.

“bad. bad mystery. sit.”

poor boy looked guilty afterward. quietly said sorry, as you forgave him, gave him a hug… and he melted. behind you, the other members stared daggers, he just smirked.

mystery: 1

everyone else: should have been me

BABY has the maknae privilege at max level. he does something wrong? it’s okay, happens to the best of us. he wants extra snacks? sure. needs a nap? go ahead. wants cuddles? of course.

you baby him more than the group does. he knows it and abuses it.

until the day he crossed the line.

he added demonic hellfire hot sauce to your lunch ramen. not spicy, not even buldak. no, this was 4th dimension inferno level. maybe if you drank lava it wouldn't cause such an effect. you took one bite and transformed into a dragon with a hot steam coming from your ears, face bright red, tears streaming.

and baby? had the audacity to laugh ... right in your face.

so you sprayed him with the emergency water bottle too.

“i didn’t mean it.” “you literally labeled the sauce ‘hellfire.’”

he apologized… eventually, when he found out you stopped spoiling him or giving him the extra attention. you forgave him, after he promised he wouldn't do it again. 

oops, he did it again.

FINAL RESULT AND SHIFT REPORT you’re definitely the human holding this group together, while also being the main character in a demon-infested boy band that came straight from nowhere.

the most fun part is you don’t know they’re demons. just suspect things like superhuman strength, suspicious magic, teleporting, glowing eyes, strange skin patterns. but as long as they don’t cause trouble, which they are every good at, you let it slide. you love them anyway.

even if you're starting to wonder why your soul feels slightly strange every time jinu smiles at you or abby takes his shirt off again.

but remember, you signed the contract. and ... you didn’t read the fine print though, did you?

taglist: @seneon @y2kuromi @maruflix

©2025 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work.

[bettelaboure]

⊹ Mile High ⊹ Kwon Ji-yong

⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹

⊹ Pairing: Kwon Ji-yong x Reader

⊹ Summary: Kwon Ji-yong (G-Dragon) and the reader—his tour manager's assistant—amid the chaos and intimacy of a world tour in 2025. Their teasing banter grows into deep affection, culminating in moments of vulnerability, connection, and a quietly powerful love that lingers long after the final encore.

⊹ Warnings: mature language and suggestive content, emotional vulnerability and themes of burnout, references to illness and exhaustion

⊹ Author's note: i'm trying to push myself out of my comforting smut and angst. what do we think about sweeties? 🤍

⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹

You never meant to get so close to him.

But cities bled into each other like watercolor on a hotel napkin—Lisbon to Prague to Tokyo—and somewhere in the blur of passport stamps, sleepless nights, and hastily ordered lattes, Kwon Ji-yong started slipping under your skin. What began as harmless proximity soon became a slow entanglement of glances, whispered jokes, and quiet, charged moments you didn’t know how to name.

You meet him for the first time in Berlin, two hours behind schedule and six minutes before the soundcheck meeting. The venue buzzes like a kicked beehive, everyone darting around with a job, a headset, or a minor crisis. The air is thick with urgency and sweat, stage lights blinking awake, sound techs testing mics like angry gods in the rafters.

Ji-yong strolls in with that careless kind of grace only rockstars and men with nothing to prove can manage. He's wearing sunglasses indoors—of course—and a vintage leather jacket with paint smears across the sleeve. He smells faintly of cedar and something more elusive: the kind of scent that lingers long after someone has left.

He calls you “assistant-nim” the first time. Mocking, lilting, like the title tastes wrong in his mouth but he's going to savor it anyway. He tugs his sunglasses down just enough to show the laughter in his eyes, the corners crinkling with amusement.

“Tour Manager’s assistant, right?” he says, voice dipped in that casual, velvet arrogance. "Big responsibility. Guess that means I should be nice to you."

You don’t flinch. You meet his gaze, arching a brow. "You could try being on time first."

He laughs. A low, rich sound, the kind that curls at the edges and stays with you long after he's walked away.

It begins with small things.

An inside joke here. A brush of hands when he passes you a pen. The way he calls you by your last name like it’s a dare, like he's always two seconds from smiling. You notice how often he ends up in your orbit, uninvited but never unwelcome. His presence becomes a background hum—persistent, teasing, intimate.

In Paris, during a chaotic prep for the arena's layout shift, he disappears for nearly an hour. You're about to start a very well-practiced rant when he saunters in, nonchalantly drops a pack of your favorite gum on your clipboard, and walks off without a word. Taped to it is a neon sticky note in loopy handwriting:

Still not as sharp as your tongue.

You read it five times before tucking it into your notebook.

In Seoul, the night before the show, you’re rechecking cue lists when he steals your sharpie from your hand mid-sentence. He draws a tiny, crooked heart on the back of your hand before handing it back.

"A souvenir," he murmurs, voice soft but certain. "In case you forget me."

You laugh like it means nothing. But you tuck your hand away like it means everything.

By Milan, it’s no longer just teasing. Ji-yong seeks you out. He hovers by your table during production meetings, tapping his foot to music only he can hear. He brings you coffee with your exact order scrawled in black marker on the lid. No one ever gets your order right.

“You work too much,” he tells you one night. It's after load-in, after most of the crew has vanished into their rooms or the city’s neon veins. You're hunched over lighting notes in a staff lounge when he appears, hoodie half-zipped, hair a tousled mess.

“They toss you around like a human paperclip,” he adds, settling beside you like he belongs there.

You shrug without looking up. "It’s the job."

He leans forward, elbows on knees. "No," he says, softer. "It’s not supposed to eat you."

You glance at him, surprised by the seriousness threading through his tone. He reaches out, brushes your wrist with the backs of his fingers. The touch is brief, almost clinical, but it sparks something low in your chest.

You forget the next line on your spreadsheet. You forget the spreadsheet altogether.

The night before Amsterdam, you catch a fever. It's nothing dramatic—just exhaustion with a little vengeance thrown in. But you wake up shivering in your hotel room, your voice gone raspy and your skin burning.

You’re wrapped in every spare blanket you can find, trying to type out an emergency email when there’s a knock. Groggy and unsure, you shuffle to the door and crack it open.

Ji-yong stands there, wearing an oversized hoodie, a pink beanie pulled low, and a plastic bag full of supplies.

"Someone told me you didn’t show up to call time," he says, stepping inside before you can protest. "You never skip."

You try to wave him off, mumble something about being fine, but he’s already unpacking the bag—vitamin drinks, oranges, some kind of throat tea, lozenges. He even brought tissues with little cartoon characters on them.

"I Googled what to get. Don’t laugh."

You don’t. You’re too busy watching the way his brow creases when he checks your temperature with the back of his hand. His touch is gentle, a contrast to his usual bravado. When he brushes damp hair from your forehead, you feel yourself lean into it like gravity’s shifted.

“I’ll find someone to cover for you,” he murmurs, sitting on the edge of your bed. "Stay. Rest. Let me take care of you."

You should say no. But when he adjusts your blanket and mutters something about making sure you eat, you close your eyes instead.

And for once, you let go.

Somewhere between Vienna and Vancouver, the space between you shifts.

He stands too close now. He doesn’t ask permission anymore to steal your pen—just lifts it with a wink, then gives it back with his fingers brushing yours. You start noticing the things you never let yourself think about before: the curve of his smile when he’s tired, the way he says your name when no one’s around.

The first kiss doesn’t happen in a dramatic place.

It’s backstage in Chicago, the night everything goes wrong. The printer eats the setlist, your crew chief is yelling, and Ji-yong’s been orbiting you all evening like a low, simmering star.

You whirl around, eyes blazing, voice teetering on the edge of something sharp and venom-laced. The words are already curling on your tongue—something about him always hovering, always poking at you when you're hanging on by threads—but the second your mouth opens, he steps into your space.

Your breath catches. His hand rises gently, fingertips brushing against your jaw—not firm, not forceful, just there, like a question you didn’t know you’d already answered. The chaos of the hallway fades into white noise, swallowed by the heat in his gaze.

He kisses you.

It’s not urgent, not hungry. It’s slow. Deliberate. A quiet invasion. The kind that demands nothing but takes everything. His lips move over yours like he’s memorizing a secret. His other hand finds your lower back, and you feel the steady pressure of it anchoring you to this moment, to him.

Your mind blanks. Every thought melts under the warmth of his mouth.

And when he pulls back, barely, your foreheads nearly touching, your breath mixing with his—he smirks.

"Still sharp, assistant-nim?"

You don’t answer. You grab his hoodie, tug him back in, and kiss him again—this time with everything you’ve been holding back.

There’s no warning. No preamble.

Just the press of his mouth on yours, warm and sure and devastating. His hand finds your lower back, grounding you. The hallway around you vanishes. The only thing real is the taste of him, the way he exhales through his nose like he's been holding it for weeks.

Now, he sits beside you on plane rides. His head tilts toward your shoulder when he naps. When he wakes, he offers you his water bottle without asking. You share earbuds. You share silences. You share things neither of you can quite name.

When the world tilts beneath you—from jet lag or impossible deadlines or the weight of always being needed—he’s an anchor. A tether. The only calm in the storm.

Sometimes, when the city outside blurs in neon and late-night noise, you’ll feel his fingers trace slow, lazy patterns along your arm. Like he’s writing something only you’re meant to read. Like he’s saying something he can’t quite voice.

He never says the words.

But he doesn’t have to.

You feel them in every shared glance, in every quiet smile he saves just for you, in the way he holds your hand when no one’s watching.

You’re the one thing on this tour he never wants to leave behind.

And maybe, just maybe, you won’t have to.

The flight to New York is an overnight haul, cabin lights dimmed to a quiet haze. Most of the crew is asleep or nodding off behind sleep masks and neck pillows. The hum of the engines becomes white noise, lulling, laced with secrets.

Ji-yong catches your eye from across the aisle. There's a subtle twitch of his mouth, that mischievous curve you’ve come to recognize as a question.

You tilt your head.

He mouths, “Come here.”

You glance around. Everyone's out cold or glued to earbuds. He slides a blanket over his lap, shifts slightly to the side in the wide first-class seat.

You hesitate for half a second before unbuckling your belt and slipping over quietly, your thigh brushing his. The armrest stays up. So does your pulse.

“I can’t sleep,” he murmurs, lips close to your ear.

You laugh softly. “So you decided to corrupt me instead?”

His hand finds your knee under the blanket, his thumb tracing a slow, dangerous circle.

“Corrupt?” he says, voice low and amused. “No. I just missed you.”

The warmth of him, the tension of proximity, the secret thrill of being hidden in plain sight—it coils inside you like a tightly wound thread.

His fingers trail higher, careful and slow, like a question. Like he’ll stop if you so much as flinch.

But you don’t.

Instead, you lean in, press your lips against his neck just below the jawline, where his cologne softens into skin and something uniquely him. He shudders.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” you whisper.

He exhales a soft laugh, but there's something reverent in the way he touches you. Not rushed. Not greedy. Just slow, deliberate devotion. Every movement a promise. Every breath between you thick with the kind of anticipation that only ever builds on flights like these—hours suspended above the world, rules blurred, gravity forgotten.

By the time you rest your head on his shoulder again, his hand still tangled gently with yours under the blanket, you're no longer wondering what this is.

But the moment stretches—longer, heavier.

His hand doesn’t stay still. His thumb slides over your wrist in slow, thoughtful circles, and the curve of your body leans closer into his. Your breaths sync, shallow and shared. His mouth grazes your temple, then the shell of your ear. The whisper of skin-on-skin sparks another slow shiver down your spine.

You glance up at him—just once—and his eyes are already on you, dark and unreadable, full of that quiet fire he only lets you see.

He leans in, and this kiss is different. This one is deeper, all tongue and heat and aching restraint. His fingers slide beneath the hem of your shirt, just barely skimming the soft skin at your waist, and you suck in a breath you can’t release.

The blanket shields you both in a cocoon of velvet silence and tension. Your body turns toward his under the cover, your thigh slipping over his lap. His hands grip your hips like he’s memorizing the feel of you—grounded, present, urgent.

And though you don’t say a word, your bodies speak clearly: this isn’t just longing anymore.

It’s need.

His lips return to your jaw, your neck, and your collarbone as you tip your head back just enough to let him. He moves like he knows exactly what he’s doing, like this isn’t the first time he’s imagined you like this—unraveling slowly in his hands, out of breath, out of excuses.

And when your hand slips under his hoodie, palms pressed to the bare skin of his chest, the way he exhales your name against your throat makes your knees weak even seated.

Your heart pounds with every inch gained under the hush of the flight, under the electric hush of what’s no longer unsaid.

You shift again beneath the blanket, breath catching when his fingers dip just beneath the waistband of your leggings—slow, cautious, and absolutely certain. He watches your face closely, your parted lips, the glaze in your eyes, before his hand moves further. A slow inhale trembles in your chest as his touch finally finds you—confident and unbearably tender.

Your body curls toward his instinctively, eyes fluttering shut as his fingertips work soft, deliberate circles against you, coaxing breathless little gasps from between your lips. You bury your face in his neck, one hand clenching in the front of his hoodie, the other tangled in his hair. His mouth grazes your jaw, your cheekbone, your ear, whispering your name like a secret, like a prayer.

He knows exactly what you need. And he gives it without rushing, every motion measured, every touch speaking volumes of all the things he's never said aloud. The tension builds between your thighs, molten and electric, pooling low until you arch into him, teeth biting back a sound you can’t afford to make.

He kisses you then—deep, slow, anchoring—as your body tightens around the sensation of his hand, your legs trembling beneath the shared cover. When it finally breaks, the wave crashes over you quietly but entirely, your breath catching in his mouth as your fingers grip his shoulder like lifeline.

You collapse into him, body limp, heart roaring.

Ji-yong wraps you close, as if to protect you from gravity, from everything.

When he pulls back just enough to look at you—flushed, eyes half-lidded, chest still heaving—he grins, all mischief and tenderness.

“Congrats on joining Mile High Club.” he whispers.

You let out a soft, shaky laugh and kiss him again, slower this time, sweeter.

You move together like a confession.

And when you finally settle back into him, limbs entangled, cheek resting against his chest, your heartbeat echoing his—

You don’t even have to look to know he’s smiling.

You know.

The tour ends in a blur of tears, champagne, and confetti.

New York is the last stop, and it feels both monumental and surreal. The final show is electric, a cathartic release of everything built up over months of movement, exhaustion, and adrenaline. Ji-yong’s voice cracks with emotion during the last encore. You see it, even if no one else does.

The afterparty stretches into morning—flashes of laughter, photo ops, drunken toasts slurred in three different languages. People cry in the arms of near-strangers who’ve become family. Someone dances on a table. Someone else cries into a speaker case. Crew members embrace like war veterans, promising to keep in touch but knowing most won’t.

You find yourself in a quiet corner of the hotel suite with Ji-yong, both of you barefoot and a little drunk, watching the city flicker beneath the balcony. The glass door is open just a crack, letting in the hum of New York night.

He leans against the frame. You’re curled into the couch with a glass of something golden in your hand, his hoodie drowning your frame.

“What now?” you ask, voice raw from laughter and champagne, from everything.

Ji-yong doesn’t answer right away. He steps toward you instead, crouches in front of the couch, and rests his elbows on your knees. His hands find your hips like he needs to ground himself. Like he’s afraid you’ll vanish when the sun comes up.

He studies you—really looks—and his thumb brushes the hollow beneath your lip, gentle and familiar.

“I don’t know,” he says, quiet. “I’ve never finished something and wanted to begin again this badly.”

You blink at him, heart skittering. Then, softly, you set your glass aside and lean down to kiss him—slow, with meaning. His fingers tighten slightly at your waist, and for a long moment, the room forgets the noise outside.

When you part, he stays close, resting his forehead against yours.

“Come with me,” he breathes.

You smile against his mouth. “Where?” you ask, but the question’s barely real.

“Anywhere,” he says. “Everywhere. Just… stay. Don’t let this be something we only remember when we hear a setlist.”

You draw in a long breath, studying the way his expression softens in the dim light. He’s not asking as G-Dragon the icon. He’s just Ji-yong now—tired and open and yours.

You nod. “Okay.”

His arms wrap around you like instinct, pulling you off the couch and into him, lifting you until you’re straddling his lap on the thick carpeted floor, legs tangled, noses brushing. His mouth finds yours again and again—like punctuation. Like promise.

Later, when the suite is dark and quiet and you’re curled up on the same hotel bed with his hand resting on your bare hip, you realize something.

When the tour disappears into memory—city by city collapsing behind you like folded maps—you don’t.

You stay.

Not because he asked.

Because he became the place you want to be.

Taglist: @redhoodedtoad @mirahyun @sherrayyyyy @sherxoo @dilfismz @breakmeoff @janie-osuih @forevervibezzzz1 @kuinnoa @juliskopf @maskedcrawford @szonyix6277

[urno1luv]

Loved the fanfic of Sub!Giselle! 💜

Can you make a part two author nim, but make it longer?? Pleasee??

But no pressure! Take your time and have a break author nim!! Love youu 💜🫶

i didn't expect so many ppl to see my work omg...🫣but ofc!! i think this might be the only sub idol thing i write bc it took so long to get out of that mindset myself😭😭hope u like this ♡

part 1 for anyone who missed it, but it's also a standalone so it doesn't matter which order u read it in <3

tags: this is actually a very cute fic if you ignore the sex, sub gigi, bratty gigi, sexually frustrated gigi, sex(🤩), pussy eating (both recieving), face sitting, gigi has pierced nipples, mommy kink, ass slapping (gigi recieving)

💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋

Living with your girlfriend was a test of patience you were constantly failing. It wasn’t just that she was bratty—it was the artistry behind her annoyance. She made being difficult seem like a sport, and you were her unlucky opponent. Gigi loved you very much, but sometimes you couldn't help but think she did this to rile you up on purpose. The reason for this? You would find out soon enough <33

"Can you not breathe so loud?" she asked one morning, flipping through her phone at the breakfast table.

You paused mid-chew, glaring at her. "I’m eating cereal."

"And I’m eating in peace—or I was," she snapped, taking a delicate sip of her iced Americano, which she’d made you buy because "I just can't function without caffeine."

She left dishes in the sink like a declaration of war. “I’m giving you a chance to prove your cleaning skills,” she said with a smirk when you confronted her, her lacy bra strap slipping down her pale shoulder. It was almost like she did that just for your attention...

“Giselle, you’re literally standing next to the dishwasher.”

“Yeah, but my nails are wet,” she whined, holding up perfectly dry, manicured fingers. “You’re welcome for the visual.”

And don’t get started on her shopping habits. Packages arrived daily, piling up at the door like a shrine to her online shopping addiction. One time, she ordered a $200 sweater and wore it ONCE.

“Why didn’t you return it if you didn’t like it?” you asked, baffled.

“Because the hassle is too much. I dont have time for that. Im a busy woman,” she purred, draped across the couch, in an inviting manner.

If you so much as hinted at getting frustrated, she doubled down. “Aww, is living with me too much for you?” she teased one night, stealing the last slice of pizza you’d specifically saved for yourself. “Poor thing.”

But the worst was how she always needed the last word. Arguments with her were unwinnable, because no matter what, she’d throw out a smug, “You’re just mad that I’m fucking right,” and leave the room, huffing.

Some days you wondered why you hadn’t packed your bags yet. But then she’d do something annoyingly cute, like poke her head into your room at 3 a.m., blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

“I can’t sleep. Wanna watch something?”

You sighed, and begrudgingly made space for your girlfriend. God, she knew how to make you stop being mad at her so easily, and all she had to do was flash a smile in your direction.

She removed her blanket to reveal a silky lingerie set, in a colour matching her beautiful hair. She crawled over to sit on your lap, her sultry gaze meeting your surprised one. "Put a show on already," she whined, "accidentally" grinding on you.

You realised just then, as you grabbed the remote that Giselle was frustrated because you didn't fuck her for 2 days (a new record for your little slut). Oh, you didn't realise how much fun u were gonna have with her <33

An hour passed, and you forgot just how annoying your girlfriend was. Only 15 minutes were spent watching the movie, the other 45 spent arguing with Aeri over the smallest stuff. How you sat, how your room looked, how bad the movie you chose was, and you've just about had it with her.

Your hand snaked up her back, as she yapped, and tightened, before flipping her over so that she was face down into the mattress. A small yelp was heard, but you didn't care. This brat was gonna pay.

Youre both in the middle of the bed, and you dragged Aeri by her hair so that she rested her head on the pillow instead. She moaned at the sharp pain in her scalp, the sound so lewd and pornographic. "Baby, if you wanted to get fucked so bad, just fucking ask, okay? Don't piss me off, I'm not a patient person," you snarled at her.

Her pussy clenched at your tone of voice, back arching into you. Within minutes, you had her ass up and her hands tied behind her back, with one of your hands roughly gripping her hip, holding her down, the other pushing her head down into the pillow as you thrust the dark strap inside of her dripping cunt. You slapped her ass a few times, the flesh jiggling, her guttural moans escaping her mouth. The muffled cries and moans sounded like music to your ears, bringing you both closer to your edge, but you weren't gonna let Giselle off. No, not yet.

You removed the strap and threw it aside, and she groaned loudly at the action. "What the fuck are you- a-ah.." You slapped her before she could even complain, and told her that if she doesn't make you cum in the next 5 minutes, she's not gonna cum at all tonight. The threat of Aeri's pleasure being taken away had her scrambling, her lips connecting to you clit, and the moans you were letting out had her encouraged.

"F- fuck... that's a good g-girl..." You gasped, pushing Gigi's head into your pussy. Hearing your praises got her dripping again, and she sighed into your cunt, the action bringing you closer and closer to your climax.

Your orgasm hit you like a freight train, and you screamed out loud, thighs closing like an oyster around your beloved pearl, Aeri, who whined as she tasted your sweet essence, pleased to have made her girl happy. "My turn, please, mommy? I've been s'good to you..." You obliged, already losing your anger.

"Come here, Gigi," you softly murmured, and she obeyed, eagerly pushing you down, her pussy hovering above your face. You wrapped your hands around her plush thighs, pulling her so that her full body weight rested on your face. She immediately started grinding, and you plunged your tongue into her, swirling inside of her warm, pussy.

While sucking on her clit, your reached up to twist her pierced nipples, and Giselle threw back her head, squealing, reaching her high withing seconds, squirting all over your face. "M-mommy.... h-hah..." Aeri's body twitched, and she slumped beside you, completely fucked out.

Shakily, you got up and started to run water in the bath, before coming back to nuzzle into her neck. Giselle reciprocated, her arms wrapping around you, holding you closer.

Although she could be too much, you wouldn't trade her for the world.

[grinsgrimmy]

Hello, Writer-nim! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

I'm a new fan of your blog! I really like how you write! ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ ᡣ𐭩 I saw that your drabble request slot is still open. I'm just wondering if you'll be able to write a character from 'Death is the only ending for the Villainess'? For Callisto Regulus, specifically? ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ

Like, Reader finds a jar that's full of trinkets and it's so familiar to her because these are all the trinkets she gave to him since they met. And it's like Callisto's greatest treasure. ૮⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝ ა

Thank you in advance, Writer-nim! 화이팅~! (ㅅ´ ˘ `)♡

Ｔ Ｒ Ｅ Ａ Ｓ Ｕ Ｒ Ｅ .

ㅤᯓᡣ𐭩 𝖢𝖠𝖫𝖫𝖨𝖲𝖳𝖮 𝖱𝖤𝖦𝖴𝖫𝖴𝖲 𝗑 𝖠𝖥𝖠𝖡!𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

DEATH IS THE ONLY ENDING FOR THE VILLAINESS

๋࣭⭑ֶֶֶָָָ֢֢֢𖹭 drabble. (816 words)

sum. you found a jar on callisto's dresser. the content in the jar were familiar to you

note : thank you for your request and kind words, anonie! it took me a while to do this because i could not exactly understand callisto's personality for some reason. I ended up summarising his personality to be NEARLY the same as sylus from love and deepspace. regardless, I FINALLY DID NOT GO OVER THE WORD LIMIT !!

drabble request slots have reopened !

ㅤ⪩⪨ m.list

“aren't you so bold to snoop around the crown prince's bedroom, dear?”

callisto mused, leaning against the doorframe with that insufferable, arrogant smirk of his. he eyed you going through his bedroom with an amused glint in his eyes.

clearly, he was enjoying the sight of you getting caught in the act.

you did not actually mean to snoop around callisto's bedroom. you had been waiting for him when he was busy getting dressed. since you had nothing to do, you let your eyes mindlessly wander around his massive yet empty room.

it was not as though you were trying to find something. you were just idly passing time while waiting for him. but then your eyes landed on something that sat sitting on his dresser that was oddly near his bed.

before you could think twice about what you were doing, your curiosity got the better of you. hence, you ended up investigating what that odd thing could be.

when you gazed upon the item. it was an old, weathered glass jar, though the content within it were certainly new. you took a moment to process what exactly it was that gave a tug of familiarity.

the trinkets were so familiar to you.

you would have not bat an eye on that glass jar if it were not for the contents in it.

then, callisto caught you in that moment.

which led to callisto standing in the doorway, giving the most annoying smirk known to man alongside that look of bemusement.

you felt your heart racing when you were caught. though you knew you were not guilty, you felt as if you were touching something so incredibly intimate to him.

you straightened up immediately. your hands instinctively moving to your back to hide the jar you took from his dresser.

you took another long gaze in the jar without shame to ease your curiousity. after processing it, it caught you by surprise when you realised what those were.

the trinkets and other items within it were tiny gifts you gave callisto over the course of your time together.

small tokens of affection or silly, spontaneous, or callisto decided it would be better to steal it from you.

each trinket within it brought back memories of the two of your shared moments you did not know you needed to remember.

a pebble from your garden that you gave to callisto during your early days of meeting him to boldly mock him. several jewellery you gifted (and stolen) to callisto. two overworn handkerchiefs and other tiny content you saw—

all these small, seemingly insignificant gifts you had given to him,

you never realised he had kept them.

it hit you hard. you could not even comprehend what you felt seeing the jar.

affection? adoration? nostalgia? disbelief?

there were too many thoughts running through your mind.

your fingers tightened around the jar unconsciously, as if shielding the vulnerability you felt at that moment.

callisto, the annoyingly observant man that he is, noticed your change in expressions. he gave you a knowing look as he took a slow step forward to you.

“i had no idea you were so sentimental, darling,” he commented with his usual teasing tone, yet it was laced with something more.

you opened your mouth to speak, but your words were tangled in your throat. you were caught by the strange, warm ache in your chest that you could not explain.

“i didn't know you kept these...” you croaked out, trying not to sound vulnerable, but your voice was softer than you intended. you glanced at the jar again with disbelief.

his lips curled into a tiny, gentler smile, yet he managed to maintain his arrogant smirk after. he took the jar from your hands carefully. you noticed he was cradling it almost reverently, scared it would break.

“this is where i store my greatest treasures,” callisto murmured, his voice almost tender when he glanced at the content within the jar.

his eyes shifted to you. he placed the jar where it belonged, then his fingers brushed against yours. he gave a knowing grin. “if i could put you in here, i would,” he said teasingly, but you could sense that he actually meant it.

he then leaned down to press a kiss to the top of your head. the warmth of his lips lingered longer than you expected. it was a quiet gesture, but it was profound to you, as if it were a promise.

in that moment, you realised it was not just the objects that made you sentimental, it was that callisto had truly seen you. all these tiny things could have been easily overlooked, but he cherished it.

callisto cherished you.

"thank you," you whispered. the words carried heavy meaning. you gave him a smile, a sincere one without artifice. a smile that caught callisto off guard.

callisto then smiled, a smile that matched yours— genuine and sincere, far more than either of you had anticipated.

・❥・want a hc / oneshot? please consider commissioning in ko-fi !

[teriri-sayes]

Reactions to The Worst's Chapter 392

Brief summary: Cale's group steals the safe and escapes.

==========

All my guesses were wrong. Cale did not use Instant or Embrace. Rather than waiting for the self-destruction sequence to finish, he destroyed the place himself by summoning the Fire of Destruction and blowing up a hole from the 3rd basement floor to the building's top floor roof. 😂😂😂

Alberu: Ha, I never thought I'd do something like this in my life. Stealing? I've had all sorts of experiences. I put off all my work and come here to do this, robbing a safe? Cale: So you don't like it? Alberu: No. It's fun, I think? Cale: …

Cale's influence to Alberu just keeps growing. 🤣🤣🤣 Cale's "performance" was also funny. 😂😂😂

Cale: *floats to the sky with lightning and thunder in the background* Rosalyn and ARM: *escapes through the helicopter* Press: *arrives at the scene and begins to shoot* Cale: We are- Alberu: *using magic to broadcast Cale's voice* ARM: Why is he staying there instead of running away? Cale and Rosalyn: We are Arm! ARM: Arm? Rosalyn: ARM-nim. From now on, listen carefully to what I say. ARM: Pardon? Rosalyn: From today, you are joining hands with Arm. The group that secretly approached you was Arm. ARM: Pardon? Narrator: Rosalyn carried out "Arm brainwashing" on Ahn Roh Man without Cale asking her to do so.

Cale also added some words like, "The God of Chaos will soon rule this world!", to confuse the enemy. You know, Cale, GoC is your enemy, but with all the chaos you've been causing, won't GoC ask you to be their successor at this rate? 😂😂😂

Before Cale escaped through teleportation, Cale met the current chairman of Transparent Corp., Han Seo Hyung. From what I recall, he was a mage as powerful as a wanderer.

Rosalyn was right as the incident made headlines all around the world, with the secret research labs of the Transparent Corp being revealed to the public. This scandal came to be known as the "Transparentgate".

Ending Remarks Cale was really having fun today. Next chapter would probably be telling us what the aftermath of Transparentgate would be. Hopefully, it would also reveal clues on how to wake Count Lupe.

[dirty-bosmer]

WIP Wednesday

tagged by: @skyrim-forever @theoneandonlysemla @kookaburra1701 @pocket-vvardvark @heavy-metal-dick

thank you friends <3 I am tagging: @gilgamish @elavoria @unironicallytes @wispstalk @nuwanders @inkysqueed @sylvienerevarine @thequeenofthewinter @ladytanithia @rustyram035 @darcxaosit @throughtrialbyfire @sheirukitriesfandom @lady-iizsil @saltymaplesyrup @moriche

Trying my hand at something wholesome for once (lol). Was replaying the Oblivion Mage's Guild questline, and I thought of this little snip from Nim's past as a freshly minted Associate and perpetual pest.

Nim stumbled over her tongue, some amalgam of ‘it’s not what it looks like’ and ‘I was only borrowing them’ lodged in her throat like shards of bird bone. She’d never been a good liar, not without her illusion charms, but she couldn’t cast any now, not red-handed with Kud-Ei staring her down in the garish glow of the starlight. Kud-Ei would see right through her. With a wave of her hand, Kud-Ei shut the door behind her. “Put the robes back, Nimileth," she said gently. So gently it pained Nim. "Please.” The magic woven into the fabric hummed beneath her fingers— fortifying enchantments and protective augmentations— feats of costly, masterful spellwork that had made the decision to steal them all the more elementary. Arms moving as if under a command spell, Nim tucked the robes back into the drawers, pushing them deep, deep down like she was trying to shove her entire body in there with them. When she’d showed up on the guild hall’s doorstep, mud-caked and malnourished, Kud-Ei had offered her clothes from her own wardrobe out of kindness, a kindness Nim had no right to, a kindness Kud-Ei would surely never offer to others like her again.  I’m surprised it took her this long to learn, Nim thought cruelly, wondering who was the bigger fool: her for having sought acceptance with the Mages Guild or the others for having trusted her? She wasn’t like these people— the honest, educated mages who toiled at their craft. People who dedicated their lives to being better than they were. What illusion of goodness had Nim crafted to convince them she was worthy of a chance to try? She already knew she didn't belong here. She was cursed, came out the womb wrong, crooked and unwanted, desperation hanging off her bones like an ill-fitting skin.  The window shook. In the distance, a deep belly-laugh of thunder dissolved over the Niben. Storms were commonplace in Bravil, especially in the summer months when rain pelted the roofs as sure as the second-hand ticked along the face of the clock. A kind of drenching powerlessness to the routine of it. For the few weeks she’d lived here, Nim had found it strangely comforting, how easy it was to resign oneself to drowning while standing on two legs.  Kud-Ei shifted uneasily, and Nim knew what was coming next. The guild bylaws for theft were clear, and Nim would be lucky if a revoked recommendation was the least of the consequences she faced. But instead Kud-Ei reached into her pocket for a coin purse, pulled out a handful of septims and placed them in Nim’s palm with a sad, sympathetic smile. A smile Nim wanted to believe.

[luebirdd]

The difference between choicale and alcale:

*came steals someone, destroys his life, torture him*

Choi han: cale-nim is so kind🥰

Alberu: ??What are you talking about? That's definitely a crazy bitch

[otomiyaa]

Day 28: The Number You Have Dialed...

Ukai x Takeda | Nim's Lovely Tickletober 

Word Count: 700 words

Dinner was getting cold on the table. Loud and hysterical laughter drowned out the sound of the radio. It was one of those date nights.

"Nohohoo! Relehehease mehehe!" Takeda laughed helplessly. He lay sprawled on the floor after several rounds around their apartment, getting chased here and there by his wild lover. What even caused them to end up in this situation, he barely remembered, but it didn't matter.

"Look at you, sensei. Laughing so much at me, don't you think that's a little rude?" Ukai joked while his fingers mercilessly attacked Takeda's sides underneath his sweater. Takeda squealed and tried to struggle free.

"Plehehease! Wahahah!" he whined. Tonight's tickle monster was more merciless than ever. He was hungry for Takeda's laughter and not shy to take it in every way he could.

Takeda rolled on his side and tried to curl up, but Ukai merely clawed at his ribs and invited him to uncurl again until he arched his back while his hands were prying for Ukai's.

"Kehehei ehehe! Not thehehere!"

To make things worse, his phone in his pocket suddenly vibrated. Even that tickled. Takeda jolted and made a squeaky noise, and Ukai noticed it too.

"Hm? Getting calls at this hour? We've got a popular sensei," Ukai chirped, and he reached for Takeda's phone and took it out of his pocket, of course not without some deliberate tickles.

"Oh, it's Hinata. What does he need?"

"Kehehei lehehet me ahahanswer!" Takeda laughed. It was quite embarrassing that even with only just one hand, Ukai could tickle him enough to make him weak and helpless. He held Ukai's hand with both hands and tried to pull it away so he could steal his phone back and answer the call, but Ukai wouldn't even budge and continued to wiggle his fingers against Takeda's ticklish tummy.

Ukai stared at the phone and when Hinata didn't give up soon enough, to Takeda's horror, he answered it.

"The number you have dialed belongs to a person who is getting tickled to death. Please try again later."

He even said it in the funniest robotic voice, it made Takeda laugh even more than he already was.

"You dihihihick! Nooohohohoo!" he howled. Luckily Ukai ended the call again, but Takeda was sure Hinata had heard some of that hysterical laughter of his. How embarrassing.

"Dick? You call me a dick eh?" Ukai said playfully, putting Takeda's phone down and this time attacking him with both hands again. Takeda slithered on the floor like a miserable worm and could only laugh more until he thought he would pass out.

"I'm sohohorry! Mehehercy- Kehehei!" Finally Ukai's fingers slowed down, and when they came to a full stop, Takeda tiredly caught his breath.

"That - was - brutal," he moaned. Ukai giggled.

"I know right?" And he sounded so proud of it too. Still, Takeda couldn't help but snort and chuckle fondly. What an unbelievable lover he had.

"Why is Hinata calling you on a Saturday night?" Ukai asked casually as if he didn't just embarrass Takeda completely in front of the student in question. Takeda rolled his eyes and giggled.

"I promised t-to send him the recording of yesterday's game..." He paused and Ukai smirked.

"But you forgot?" he said.

"W-well... a certain someone was tickling me so much I couldn't think clearly."

"Lies, sensei. We were about to have dinner, you forgot about poor Hinata and totally left him hanging!"

Takeda did not expect him to start ticklng him again and he immediately squealed again.

"Wahahait Kei- nohoho!"

He kept it short this time and kissed Takeda's lips sweetly. He still rubbed Takeda's sides enough for it to tickle, but not enough to make him wail like an animal.

"You're the cutest sensei, you know that?"

Takeda chuckled. "I know it because you tell me everyday," he said. He then kissed Ukai again. "And you are the cutest coach. Even when you tickle me to death on regular basis and won't let me answer my student's phone call."

Ukai laughed. "Hehe. Go ahead and call him back. I'll heat up the food again."

"You do that." After that playful and chaotic intermezzo, they were finally ready to resume their cozy dinner date at home, both with huge smiles on their faces for the rest of the night.

[romeoandjulietyouwish]

another Nimona fic, are we really surprised?

Nimona doesn’t know what to make of Ambrosius. 

Of course she knows who he is, everyone knows the golden boy, the descendant of Gloreth. Her first instinct is to hate him, to snarl and growl whenever he gets close. And at first she does. But that makes Ballister upset, he wants her to like him, even though she can’t see a single redeemable quality in him. 

So she keeps her glowering to herself and snarls at him whenever Bal can’t see it. Plus it’s fun to see him jump when she breathes fire a little too close to his hair. 

Eventually, she gets more used to him, but she doesn’t like him. It’s hard when they’re all living in the tower together, but she still finds ways to let Ambrosius know that he’s on thin ice with her. 

The first time her opinion of him shifts is when she is a cat walking through the tower. She can hear Bal talking and follows his voice, fluffy tail swaying behind her. She pads down the stairs and peers into the makeshift living room.

Perched where they can’t see her, Nimona sees Ambrosius and Ballister sitting on the couch. Bal is curled against his partner’s chest, tears visible on his cheeks as his whole body shakes. Ambrosius holds him tight, murmuring softly words that Nimona can’t hear.

“I feel so useless,” Ballister says softly.

“I’m sorry,” Ambrosius murmurs, running his fingers through Bal’s thick hair. The look on Ambrosius’s face is what gives her pause. In addition to love, there’s clear guilt. It sits in his brow and in the tension of his jaw. 

Nimona’s eyes fall to the metal arm sitting on the coffee table. It doesn’t take much to understand why Bal is upset, the robotic arm has been glitching more and more recently.

Nimona watches them for a long moment, she watches how Ambrosius wipes away Ballister’s tears and the strength in which he holds him and the way his comfort seems to diffuse all the tension in Bal. If Ballister feels so safe and comforted around him, maybe he’s not so bad after all.

Things like that start to happen more and more. Nimona notices how gentle and kind Ambrosius is with Ballister, even with her. He’ll touch Bal’s back or her head as he passes behind them, he learns how to make her favorite foods. But more than that, he is accepting. 

Every time she shifts in front of Ambrosius, she expects him to look at her in fear and disgust. Instead he smiles, and far too seriously says, “Metal.” She and Bal are rubbing off on him apparently. She can’t say that she doesn’t like it.

When Ambrosius is making dinner, he’ll always let her steal some of the ingredients, he won’t even snap at her, which takes away half the fun. Ballister will hug him from behind and kiss the back of his head. They’re so mushy together, it’s gross sometimes. 

But her feelings about Ambrosius change completely one night. 

She’s in the middle of a nightmare, rapidly shifting between animals, curling smaller and smaller in on herself. And suddenly she’s shaken awake. Expecting Ballister, she barely even opens her eyes before throwing herself against his chest.

Ambrosius lets out a soft, “Oof,” but holds her nonetheless.

When she realizes who it is, she freezes and tries to pull away. Ambrosius lets her, but looks down at her with a concerned frown. His hair is braided back out of his face, allowing her to read him more clearly. His voice is almost unbearably gentle as he says,“You’re okay, Nim. You’re safe.”

She swallows thickly and pulls her knees to her chest, shifting into the younger version of herself almost instinctively. She’s not sure why, but being like this makes it easier for her to accept comfort. 

Her hair falls into her face and Ambrosius reaches out and smooths back her hair with a soft touch. “Want to talk about it?”

She shakes her head and asks him, “Why are you here?”

“Because you were having a nightmare,” he tells her gently. “I got up to get some water and I heard you. Is that alright?”

Nimona’s heart clenches in her chest. He came to wake her up, to comfort her even though he used to hate her, even though he called her a monster. He cares about her, he must or he wouldn’t be here. Maybe he’s not so bad.

Ever so tentatively, she leans back into his chest. Just as slowly, Ambrosius embraces her again, pulling her into his arms. He’s warmer than Bal, she realizes, but not as soft. But just like Ballister always does, he cradles the back of her head. Despite herself, the gesture brings her an immense amount of comfort, chasing the nightmares all but away. 

Maybe, she thinks, she could be his sidekick too.

[blueteller]

Hi, dear person! Do you happen to know around how old Bud was when he used the cup or if he was already mercenary king? I feel like he probably became that afterwards but cannot remember if it was mentioned for the life of me or even what did bro have that he was dying TT

Sorry for bothering you with this but idk who'd be able to answer. The fandom wiki didn't mention it.

Hello, dear person!

I honestly did not recall whether Bud ever used the jar himself or not at first. So I searched for any mention of it. Here's what I found:

‘Based on the history left with my family, the jar has been used three times until now.’

-TCF Part 1 Chapter 347

And:

‘Is it fine to just bring that jar out? Isn’t it an ancient artifact?’ ‘Yes.’ The Mercenary King then continued in a serious tone. ‘You just need to return it within three days.’ […] ‘…Does that mean Eruhaben-nim can’t break it when he uses it?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Why?’ Bud Illis had looked down. ‘The curse of the wind blades around Wind Island will chase after the person who took the artifact and destroyed it.’ One of the gatekeepers in the Mercenary King’s household had tried to steal the ancient artifact and run. However, that gatekeeper was killed like the other corpses of Wind Island three days later. Even the gatekeeper’s family members were all killed except one person to continue the line. They were killed even though they were not at Wind Island. The wind was said to have chased after them no matter where they were. As for the ancient artifact, it was swept up by a whirlwind and returned to its proper spot. ‘Nobody dared to desire that ancient artifact after that. Many gatekeepers never even went into the temple because they were afraid of the curse.’ They were worried that they might get greedy and try to run with the ancient artifact. They were also worried that they would use it to heal someone and the jar would reach its limit. Many different fears prevented the gatekeepers from taking it. ‘But you were a gatekeeper who went in and used it?’ ‘You’re right. I am a bit brave. Thanks to that, I was able to determine the approximate number of remaining times it could be used, as well as its limits. What do you think? Friend, don’t you think you’re going to lose this drinking bet?’

-TCF Part 1 Chapter 349

Bud Illis said that the jar had been used three times, according to his family's history. Which means there were two before himself, with additional one who tried to steal the jar. Making Eruhaben the fourth and last person to use it.

Bud's age isn't specified, but since Adin's men found out a rumor about an aritfact that could "give a person a new life", I assume it was old news; there is quite big distance between the two continents and international information flow is slow, even taking Arm into account. And the jar was supposed to be a secret, so. So the events when Bud used it took place probably quite some time before canon timeline.

Bud is a regular human, he can't be REALLY old like Beast People or Elves or Dragons; his age is never specified, but the fact that he's never described as very young or very old makes me believe he's somewhere in his 30's. Personally, my headcanon is that Bud found Glenn Poeff injured when they were both young (I imagine them as teenagers, maybe around 14-18, it would fit with the timeline of when the Eastern Assassin Households fell) and used the jar to save his life. It's exactly the sort of thing Bud would do, "being a bit brave" and all, and it would make sense how the rumor would start. It would also explain the bond between the two and the sort of dynamic they have, with Glenn not being surprised when Bud acted reckless. It would fit well with how TCF friendships work in general.

I couldn't find any more information about Bud and the jar in the novel, but I might have missed something. Remember, most of that are my personal speculations. In any case, I hope it can be useful :)

[tlumataczenia]

Candace's theme song takeover PL

[PL] nie mam pojęcia, czy fretkowa wersja fineaszowoferbowej piosenki ma/będzie miała polską wersję, ale ponieważ nie mam, co robić, to znalazłem to pod zlewem.

Przeolbrzymie podziękowania dla @platypaws za nieprzecenione sugestie i dodanie otuchy podczas kiedy stochastycznie uderzałem w klawisze w nadziei, że coś wyjdzie. <3

Gdy zaczyna się lato, a z latem wakacje, i czasu wolnego jest tyle, znów na punkcie mych braci wracają fiksacje: co znowu zrobią te grzdyle? NA-PRZY-KŁAD: Siedzą pod drzewem, co robią, to nie wiem, lecz poznam ich plany do dna Zdałam biologię, nie na szóstkę, lecz siedem, dekodując wasze D-N-A! Pochowam mikrofony i wytrenuję drony, w ciastach kamery będę piec. Nic już nie umknie mi, robota zrobię w mig, Pepe będzie jako szpieg! (Pepe jako szpieg…? Ta, z tym to pojechałam, wyobrażacie to sobie? Tajny agent P., ha…! No, wracamy:) Gdy was przyłapię, mama przyzna mi rację, oddając mi godność i cześć. I pewnie powie "Macie szlaban na całe wakacje! Fretka może ciągle lody jeść!" Paradę zrobią mi, I pomnik na sto mil, Z prezydentem będę na "ty"! (Kredka!) Zleję was trofeami, szpanując orderami A wy w klatce będziecie gnić! (Mocne pręty!) Sam widzisz, że zrobić wiele się da nim będzie się do szkoły iść. I wreszcie dzięki mnie, Fineasz oraz Ferb już nic nie zrobią dziś! I wreszcie dzięki mnie, Fineasz oraz Ferb już nic nie zrobią dziś! (Maaamooo! Fretka nagrała najlepszą wersję naszej piosenki! WY MAŁE- o, hej, dzięki!)

info: jeżeli jesteście disneyem, to donut steal. Jeżeli nie i chcielibyście nagrać cover, to, po pierwsze, AAAAAAAAAAA, po drugie, jasne, ale zakredytujcie mnie

[EN] This is an example of Polish-only, inherently untranslatable post, cos I sometimes do Polish translations, VERY OCCASIONALLy.

wait this polish-only post has english section SEE I TOLD YOU IM BAD AT IT

[weirdsht]

Disillusioned 17 . Heterogeneity (2)

a/n: my body's crashing but midterms are ending soon so hopefully I'll be able to sleep

tags: implications of torture (squint really hard to see it), yandere-ish if you squint, Cale is unconscious again

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read pinned)

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_____ was walking down in the halls just outside Cale’s room. With nothing better to do after talking to Rosalyn, they decided to go out and help Pendrick heal injured soldiers outside. 

However, not 10 steps in and a certain red-haired man is shoving them back into the room they came from.

“What are you doing out? You should be lying down.”

Surprisingly enough, it’s Choi Han who spoke up and not Cale.

“Even if you heal fast there’s no way a wound that severe has fully closed up.”

The swordmaster had a look of disapproval on his face and _____’s poor heart just dropped. Never in their life had they seen Choi Han this disappointed with them.

“What did you even do yesterday? We still don’t know what happened.”

Cale tucked the healer in bed tightly as if they didn’t wake up just half an hour ago. _____ tried to get back up again but thought against it when they saw how the golden dragon was guarding the door with Choi Han guarding the end of the bed.

“I really don’t need to rest more, I swear my wound is almost healed.”

“Almost healed is different from fully healed. You will stay in this bed until we go back to the underground villa. I won’t take no for an answer.”

That shut _____ up.

However, the silence did not last long.

“Start explaining what the hell happened yesterday. Choi Han told you that you told him about how you discovered something.”

Cale sat at the end of the bed. Meanwhile, Eruhaben moved to sit on the couch with Choi Han taking over his place to stand at the door.

“Huh? Oh yes, it was also back when you guys went to Paerun Kingdom.”

The healer forgot for a moment about what they did yesterday. Mind too clouded by the things they talked about with Rosalyn earlier.

“My powers work like a transfer right? Oh right, Eruhaben-nim didn’t know, I’m sorry. So usually I would absorb someone’s wounds or whatever and then I would give and multiply my vitality right?”

Eruhaben started wondering how he got surrounded by so many unlucky people before his death. However, no one in the room knew about his thoughts.

“It got me wondering if I can do the opposite. You know, transfer and multiply my wound and then get their vitality or something along those lines.”

“Huuu”

Cale couldn’t help but sigh and pinch the bridge of his nose.

“You do know that this wasn’t what Ron meant when he told you to create something of your own, right?”

“It wasn’t? But isn’t it still a good idea.”

“_____-nim… that’s not…”

Choi Han started wondering why his serving two self-sacrificial young masters. Just like with the gold dragon, no one else knew about his thoughts.

“Yes, I know… Rosalyn-unnie already scolded me about it. I’m really sorry, I won’t do it again.”

“And what exactly are you sorry for?”

Cale’s gaze looked as though he was ready to get disappointed by whatever the healer was about to say.

“No really, I know what I did wrong this time. I’ll try not to put myself in danger next time. I’m really sorry for worrying everyone, I know I acted rashly.”

“Try?”

Eruhaben’s voice rang out for the first time since they got inside the room.

“I mean it’s a good ability… I was just unlucky this time because that half-dragon got away before I could steal some vitality… Plus, wouldn’t it be super helpful? Like imagine I have just a tiny cut but when I transfer it to the enemy it can become a lethal wound.”

While Cale is glad _____ is more lively and doesn’t act like a puppet anymore, he's not happy about this newfound stubbornness. Where did the healer even learn it from? But just like the other two men, no one else knew about his thoughts.

The commander doesn’t want to restrict the healer’s movements or freedom. Not only would it be annoying to have to constantly look after them, but it would be similar to how they used to live when they were with the Perduellios.

But at the same time, this discovery is dangerous when left alone.

“Haaa, you’ll only use that ability when it’s an emergency or when I allow you to. Unnecessarily use that power again and see if Beacrox will prepare any more desserts for you.”

Not Beacrox’s desserts, _____ loves those.

The crestfallen healer only nodded in agreement. But honestly, they don’t fully understand why everyone is acting as though they have no self-preservation. It’s not like they won’t heal. Did everyone miss the part when _____ said they can absorb another person’s vitality?

If there’s someone in their group who has no self-preservation it’s gotta be Cale, not them.

True to Cale’s words _____ didn’t get to help out in anything for the remaining time they were in Caro Kingdom. Every attempt of theirs would get shut down by everyone. The healer thought it would get better after they fully healed.

Yes and No

After resting for a bit in the super rock villa, _____ has been allowed to go back to their regular duties. However, Cale stuck the healer to him like glue. From war battles to stealthy operations to more battles. From the Caro Kingdom to the Roan Kingdom to the Western Continent to the Empire. No matter where Cale went _____ is with him. 

Well, not like _____ has a problem with it so they just let it be.

Plus they know that if they want, they can ask Cale anytime to leave them in Leeb-An City or the underground villa.

But they didn’t because just as it eases Cale’s mind to have the healer with him (not that he’d admit it), _____’s mind is also at ease whenever they are with Cale.

Or so it was.

If _____ hated Adin and the White Star before, they loathe them now.

"I-I don't understand, his body is completely fine. I have also replenished his energy however he won't wake up."

It’s been more than a week since the day Cale fainted. Yet he still showed no signs of waking up. To some extent, the healer could tell that the redhead’s body needed rest from overexerting.

But almost two weeks?

Who wouldn’t worry?

The only silver lining to all this is that it gave the Medicus some time to ponder about their feelings. Gave them time to think as to how they’d handle this garden called love whose flowers are blooming more and more in _____’s heart every day.

Ultimately they have decided to not do anything.

What _____ has concluded these days is that the form of love they want to give is support. For them that's what love is, supporting your loved ones even if he's unaware of their feelings. Being there whenever he needs them and expecting nothing in return.

And that’s exactly what the healer did.

They helped in any way they could. From healing the injured to helping with the paperwork. Sometimes Rosalyn and Raon had to remind _____ that they must rest, that they were overworking themself, and that the matters of the empire could wait until they got some rest.

_____ tries their best to listen. However, they would be seen doing the same thing again two days later.

“Cale seems to have like-minded people around him. Are you also not interested in a noble title?”

Alberu and  _____ are sitting across from each other. Both working on their own pile of paperwork.

“Under no circumstances was I ever interested in such things Your Highness. However more than that, I believe it would be unfair for our citizens if the Perduellio’s rise again when they got such a light sentence.”

The crown prince nodded in understanding. As someone who is always thinking about what’s best for the kingdom and its citizens, he could tell where the healer is coming from.

However, there’s a mistake in what _____ said.

A light sentence? That’s far from the truth.

Even thinking about what happened to that family sends a shiver down the quarter Dark Elf’s spine.

The official statement for what happened to the Perduellios is that the entire family have been stripped of their title and all their assets have been seized by the crown. As far as everyone knows they are now somewhere living as peasants.

But isn’t it weird that no one has seen them?

Cale has been… looking after them, for the lack of a better word. Alberu may not know the full story but he surely knows the extent of the young master’s anger.

He low-key wishes he could erase from his mind the condition of that cell and its inhabitants.

“However Medicus-nim, are you aware that you can’t live in hiding forever?”

Alberu pushes his other thoughts away. Why bother dwelling on them when only he, Cale, Tasha, and Beacrox know what happened? For now, he’ll focus on this paperwork and his conversation with the healer.

“Very much so your highness. I have lived my entire life hiding. What is a few years more?”

_____ paused for a second to take a second look at the document they are currently reading.

“However your Highness, the same thing cannot be said for you. This is prime time for you and the other Dark Elves.”

Alberu lets out a hearty laugh at that.

“Of course Medicus-nim. Yet you got one thing wrong. This is also a prime time for you. Worry not as I will surely allow you to live as Roan Kingdom’s Medicus once more. Consider it as my reward for putting up with a certain redhead.”

_____ tried to deny it. Tried to say that they did not need such things. Nonetheless, Alberu did not relent. He and Cale had already agreed that they would let this poor healer live out their life after being used like a tool since childhood.

Plus the blonde is seriously getting tired of Cale ranting about how suffocated _____ is having to wear a mask all the time even if they don’t complain.

"It's fine to be greedy sometimes you know? Sometimes it's all right to take whatever it is you want."

Alberu did not look at _____ as he spoke. Instead, he's looking at the unconscious commander on the luxurious bed.

_____, who understood what the crown prince meant, felt embarrassed. Their face turned into a light hue of pink as they thought of a retort.

However, Alberu did not let them do so. He simply motioned over to the healer with his glance before continuing the paperwork in his hands. _____ followed suit, and soon the room was filled with silence again, the only exceptions being the rustling of papers and their pens scribbling.

bonus-ish: sometimes I can't help but comment while I'm wrting lol

[tamaharu]

wait i just remembered i DO have unposted orv stuff that i can post for kim dokjas birthday. 2k of hot supreme king x reader fic dont like dont read!!!1!! orginal characarter do not steal!!!!!

(or, Yoo Joonghyuk takes a pit-stop in one of the world-lines. An old friend offers to pay for dinner.)

[Ah, late, so late! I can't believe I missed my alarm! And on my first day of work too... I was so worried, when I got off the train, I started running the rest of the way to the company. Hopefully nobody would notice that I was late. I had to get a new job after my boyfriend dumped me, and I couldn't afford to live on my previous salary.

As I rushed to the building, I had to push past many people to get to the doors. In my haste, however, I accidentally tripped! When I fell, I landed against something hard. "Oof!"

"Hey," a menacing voice said. "Watch where you're going next time! Don't be so quick to touch me!" Eep!

I stepped back quickly, bowing as deep as I could. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean t..." When I looked up I trailed off, becoming even more panicked. Ah, I recognized that man!

He looked down at me with a handsomely striking gaze. "You. What is your name?"

"I-It's L/N Y/N. Um, again, I'm so sorry... CEO-nim!" I bowed again. A nose and a chin shaped in perfect angles; a pair of deep eyes seemingly carved out of beautiful jewels; soft hair styled fashionably to frame his face... His suit, too, looked quite beautiful. I really messed up this time. Not only was I late, but I ran into the CEO of the company, the powerful Yoo Jo--]

I stopped there. I didn't bother to learn the name of the poor idol whose name had been stolen for this. Why was I even reading this? Reader-inserts were meant for wish fulfillment, but they always did something that took you out of the story. For the first part, I'd pay much more attention to my surroundings than that.

I pocketed my phone again, sighing. Perhaps I was the cynical one here? They were probably just written by young girls, daydreaming about getting to talk to a beloved character or idol, and was that so horrible? Actually, I believed in chance meetings, but I felt like the one here was a little too contrived...

Many thoughts went through my head as I stepped through a convenience store. Buying dinner after work was the only good thing about my job, I should just quit. Perhaps that would get me closer to the path of meeting a handsome CEO? How laughable.

I was still thinking this when I moved forwards again. But this time, when I walked, I ran directly into a hard wall.

No, wait? I had been to this store many times, and there wasn't anything blocking the entryway the other times. I stepped back, confused, to find my 'wall' staring back at me. Ah... Perhaps I should've read that story until the end.

The man in front of me had a good face. He certainly looked like he could be the menacing protagonist. But, how do I put this? Everything below the neck ruined the effect. 

He was wearing an astronaut's spacesuit, even with the helmet tucked in his arms, but he wore a black trenchcoat over that, making his form extra bulky. At the same time, strange rips were visible against it. Not a romance protagonist, then. Sci-fi? But the coat screamed chuunibyou characterization...

"Ah, sorry, I wasn't watching, excuse me..."

The man was still staring at me, and if anything his expression grew more annoyed. What did he want me to say? Should I chastise him for standing in the middle of the walkway?

Before I said anything, or even managed to go around him, a young girl peeked out from behind his back. She was dressed more normally, in casual clothes with a fuzzy jacket, but still stood out just by being around him. When she saw me, her first reaction was curiosity, but after a moment, her eyes widened in surprise and an unprecedented amount of delight.

"Oh, it's okay! I promise his bark is worse than his bite. Hey, you're from around here, yes? Do you have some money we can borrow?"

Huh?

The man turned to glare at the shameless girl instead. "We don't need money. Especially not from… them."

"Yes, yes. You're a big scary terrorist, you steal what you can't buy. Isn't that too much though? You're already beating poor authors senseless, how much crime do you need to commit before your dark heart is satisfied?"

I quickly turned on my heel and walked in the opposite direction.

"Hey, hey!" The girl's voice called out again, and I could hear her running to follow me. With a sigh, I paused and looked back at her. I didn't want someone like her friend chasing me, so it would be better to just hear her out.

"Ah, I'm sorry, you must think we're acting quite weird! But, really, we don't have any money. If you can, could you spare just a couple of dollars?"

"Mm, I don't know. If you're that desperate isn't it better to be more polite in asking? What happened, did you lose it all on a scam?" No, wait, what was I saying? I didn't want to deal with these guys longer than I had to. Just talking to them would make me stick out very badly.

Still, for some strange reason, I couldn't stop myself from taking on a familiar tone.

Her friend gave her a mean look, which she ignored, before glancing at me. After a second, he said, "We were mugged."

I blinked at him. "I see..." He gave a pained nod as if to really emphasize his plight, while the girl just smiled. When she noticed my gaze on her, her expression switched to that of grim sincerity.

I had to take a moment to step back and mentally collect myself. First off, how stupid did they think I was? Not only was their acting terrible, but who would honestly think a guy like this was attacked? And lost?

Still, there was a hint of realism in their performance. Definitely not mugged, but maybe they were actually broke?

I sighed to myself, folding my arms and looking up at the ceiling. Ah, what should I do? Most people would just ignore them, or perhaps the chosen few would spare them just enough won for a small meal.

I wasn't a kind person. No more than anyone else was, anyways. My philosophy was that it's best to go through life not making waves, and sometimes the politeness required to slip under the radar was misconstrued as kindness. Still, when the common consensus split so unevenly, that left one question: what would I, Y/N, do? After all, 'myself' was the only thing I could be.

I sighed again, much more exhausted this time. "Okay, let's go get dinner. Follow me."

The man's eyes shook slightly, reluctance evident in his expression. Still, when I started to walk out of the store, they followed after me. Damn, being followed by a guy in that outfit was truly humiliating...

The girl caught on much quicker, hurrying to match my pace. "Haha, isn't this sweet? Going out is much better than convenience store food. You're so nice... Mm, I don't think I caught your name?"

"Ah... Yes, my name is L/N Y/N."

"Y/N?" She echoed. My name sounded strange in her mouth for whatever reason. Maybe I just wasn't used to hearing people not from work use it. In fact, she had an odd look on her face, but it passed quickly. "I see. It's a good name!"

I smiled faintly, shrugging. "Thank you. Though, I guess you should be telling my parents that more than me."

"Aah, well, I'm Biyoo! And you can just call him the 'Supreme King.'"

I immediately shot back, "I am not calling him that," the same time our titular king went, "Do not call me that."

A moment of silence passed between us, as though he was seriously debating something. Finally, he spoke, seeming deeply annoyed. "Yoo Joonghyuk."

Was that his name, then? His manners were bad, but I let it slide for now. He would just have to thank me very sincerely for buying him food.

"Here, this place does cheap meal sets. Sorry, I know I offered, but it's nothing fancy..."

Biyoo seemingly paid this no mind, while Yoo Joonghyuk shot me an inscrutable look. Hey, at least I had some money. He was in no place to judge. Even if this would mean I'd be eating leftovers for the next couple of days.

The restaurant sat us down quickly. Biyoo and I pulled our chopsticks apart cheerfully. Yoo Joonghyuk kept his utensils untouched, however.

"What is it? I already apologized that it isn't too nice."

"I don't eat food made by others."

His voice was deadly serious. Who was this arrogant bastard? No, actually, both of them were rude. Why was I humoring them to this extent?

Finally, I shrugged. "Okay then, your choice. What's this I heard about you stealing from convenience stores? Perhaps I should go alert the workers there, I wouldn't want their jobs to be in danger just because some man decided thievery was better than perfectly good food, already paid for..."

He glared at me, but I ignored him, eating happily. Ah, the rice here was so fluffy, I never got it like this when I made it at home.

Biyoo laughed, which prompted me to look up. To my satisfaction, Yoo Joonghyuk had picked up the chopsticks and was gruffly taking his share.

"So, Y/N-ssi, tell us about yourself! I'd very much like to know about the person who's been so hospitable to us poor mugging victims."

"Well, firstly, you don't need to pretend to have been attacked to me. I already bought you food. I don't need your sob story."

"Aha, what gave it away?"

"Secondly, there's not much to say about me.. If anything, I'm more interested in your story."

"I'm sure that's not true! Let's see... What do you do for a job that lets you provide for two stragglers?"

She avoided my questioning easily. Was it okay to be giving out my information like this to two strangers? Perhaps they'd kill me after we finished eating.

"I work at an editing company. You’re just lucky I can stretch my budget these days, or we’d all be going hungry. It’s not exactly freelance? But the jobs are varied enough that it keeps me engaged."

"So, you read for a living?" Yoo Joonghyuk asked, looking unexpectedly interested.

"Er, I suppose that's one way to put it... It's a lot of typesetting and indexing meaningless writing. I do like reading fiction in my free time, though," I confirmed. "Not that I have a lot of that, of course..."

"Webnovels?"

I stopped short. "What was that?"

Yoo Joonghyuk asked again, in a patient tone, "Do you read webnovels?"

It felt like being caught reading said webnovels during work, even though my phone was firmly in my pocket, and this guy had definitely seen stranger things than a reader of webnovels. After all, they had to be read to be popular.

"Yes, a little bit... But they'd almost be harder to avoid these days."

Yoo Joonghyuk and Biyoo shared a meaningful look, though it appeared less like they were making fun of me, and more like they were commiserating on some unknown truth to my words.

"What's your favorite genre?"

"I don't know, maybe reincarnation? They can include both action and romance, so it can diversify. Isn't it a nice thought that after I die, I could come into a world where I could be even happier?"

"You shouldn't think like that," Yoo Joonghyuk said, and I raised an eyebrow.

"Well, it's not as if it's ever going to come true."

He carried on like he didn't hear me. "While you shouldn't completely forsake your plan for the future, nor can you forget the past that shaped you, you have to live in the present. You must live to give yourself the best life possible now, with what you have, rather than thinking things would get better if you had the chance to repeat them."

I stared at him for a long moment, surprised, before I... I burst out laughing. His face darkened, but I couldn't control myself. Biyoo giggled a little with me, patting his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, I'm not dismissing what you're saying. You're just so serious about it. You act like you've repeated your life many times." I grinned at him, rubbing tears out of my eyes. "I have no intention of dying anytime soon. It's just daydreams, anyways."

It was so odd being with the two of them, but I didn't hate it. Feeding them, telling them about my life, and Yoo Joonghyuk's heartfelt words. It made me feel as if we had known each other for a long time, even though it had been less than an hour.

We stayed like that for a while, talking and eating in a way that felt strangely comfortable. It had been a long time since I had last eaten with other people, especially with people so strange. I’d have to tell someone about this. But… who?

As we finished up, I thought about it. Without me asking, they offered to walk me home, and just for the fun of it, I decided I’d let them.

I’d tell my roommates, I realized. They’d berate me for having strangers come to our home, but then they’d laugh, and we’d keep a baseball bat by all of our beds. I’d tell my co-workers, who would make jokes about me treating them to dinner too. I’d tell my family, my mother fussing over whether I needed money and my sister calling me a liar for claiming Yoo Joonghyuk was dressed like an astronaut. There were plenty of people to tell, who’d want to hear about something so insignificant, who would just want to hear from me. How could I have forgotten?

When we arrived at my apartment building, we all hesitated for a long moment, none willing to be the first to say goodbye. Finally, I said, “You know, I should probably ask that you pay me back at some point.”

Biyoo smiled sadly. “Well, I doubt we’ll see each other again.”

“True. But just keep it in mind, okay?”

“Stingy,” Yoo Joonghyuk tsked and I shrugged good-naturedly.

“Thanks for walking me. I could’ve handled it on my own, but it was nice.” I worked my key out of my bag as I spoke, turning to the building. “I hope you two have a good night.” However, before I could even go inside, Biyoo reached out and clutched my sleeve desperately.

“Wait!” She burst. "Before you go, we... There's a story we want you to read! A webnovel, like the kind you enjoy. You definitely have to read it! Do you promise?"

I smiled at her earnestness. Wasn't she a bit cute? She almost reminded me of a puppy. "Alright, alright, I promise. What's the name?"

"That..." Biyoo pouted. "There isn't a name yet. It isn't released yet."

"Then how am I supposed to read it? Even when it gets published, I won't be able to find it."

"No, it's okay! I'm sure you'll find it once it starts getting released, and you'll definitely come to love that story. You made a promise to read it, so don't go back on that promise."

"Ahh, you expect so much from me. What do you want me to do, read every new webnovel until I somehow find the one you're talking about?" Despite my exaggerated words, she nodded, and all I could do was laugh. "Fine, fine! Is it a sad or happy story? I like most everything, but I should prepare myself if it's anything too sad."

Instead of her answering, Yoo Joonghyuk began, "L/N Y/N..." I glanced over at him, confused. His voice was full of inexplicable longing when he asked, "Are you happy?"

"Hah? What's that supposed to mean? If I say yes, are you going to tell me to get used to never being happy because of it?" It was a joke, but his expression was deadly serious. I gave a helpless laugh, but matched his sincerity when I told him, "I... Yeah, Yoo Joonghyuk. I'm happy. I wasn't for a long time, but I'm really happy right now."

He smiled. It was a smile that was forged from years of loneliness and hardship, but finding a way to live despite it all. I recognized it, because I saw the same exact smile in my mirror every day.

"It's a happy story."

"Then I promise I'll read it."

Biyoo gave me one last hug before she left. "We'll both do our best, alright? So, stay happy, for the rest of your life."

Those two were so strange. Still, I watched from in front of the building as they walked down the empty sidewalk, towards the setting sun, until they disappeared completely from view.

[kyunghwannie]

whats like the perfect date for each twice member (smut, fluff, or both)

KYUNGHWANNIE'S "MY TYPE OF PERFECT DATE WITH TWICE" – A MIX OF FLUFF & SLIGHT SMUT

(Disclaimer: 100% delusional, 200% me delulu 300% sparkly.. Let’s begin.)

1.) NAYEON 🐰

FLUFF:

Morning Café Date – She steals sips of your iced americano, leaving lipstick stains on the straw. "Mine now~"

Arcade Games – She cheats at air hockey, giggling when you call her out. "TWICE's Unnie privileges!"

Sunset Walk – She leans her head on your shoulder, humming "Fancy" under her breath.

Stargazing – "Make a wish!" she whispers—then kisses you before you can answer.

SMUT:

Car Makeout – Her hand slides up your thigh, "Drive faster, oppa~"

Dressing Room Tease – She "accidentally" flashes you while trying on lingerie. "Like what you see?"

Mirror Sex – She bends over, watching you take her from behind. "Fuck, I look good."

Morning After – She rides you slowly, smirking at your sleepy moans. "Wakey wakey~"11

2.) JEONGYEON 🐶

FLUFF:

BBQ Date – She force-feeds you meat, scowling when you try to refuse. "Eat. Now."

Horror Movie – She laughs at your jumps, then clings to you during the scary parts.

Rainy Day In – She wraps you in a blanket burrito, "You’re stuck with me."

Late-Night Drive – She sings off-key to old ballads, grinning when you cringe.

SMUT:

Kitchen Counter – She lifts you onto the counter, "Don’t move."

Shower Power Play – She pins you against the tiles, "Who said you could touch?"

Biting & Marking – She leaves bruises on your neck, "So everyone knows you’re mine."

Post-Argument Sex – Rough, angry, and so good. "Still mad?" "…No."

3.) MOMO 🍑

FLUFF:

Sushi Date – She feeds you rolls, giggling when you blush. "Open wide~"

Dance Lesson – She guides your hands to her hips, "Follow my lead."

Pillow Fort – She naps on your chest, drooling a little. "Comfy…"

Late-Night Snacks – She shares her fries, stealing yours anyway. "Mine now."

SMUT:

Lap Dance – She grinds on you, "You’re blushing~"*

Bent Over the Couch – "Faster," she whines, gripping the cushions.

Food Play – She licks whipped cream off your abs, "Yummy."

Wake-Up Call – She rides you before you’re fully awake. "Good morning~"

4.) SANA 🐹

FLUFF:

Picnic Date – She feeds you strawberries, "Say ahh~"

Aquarium Visit – She drags you to see the jellyfish, eyes sparkling. "So pretty!"

Cuddle Session – She nuzzles into your neck, "You’re warm~"

Baking Disaster – Flour everywhere, but her laugh makes it worth it.

SMUT:

BJ Under the Table – She winks up at you, "Shh~"

Roleplay – "Oppa, I’m your student~" (You fail the class.)

Mirror Tease – She runs her hands over herself, "Like this?"

Shower Sex – She presses you against the glass, "Don’t slip~"

5.) JIHYO 🦄

FLUFF:

Concert Date – She sings along, squeezing your hand during her favorite parts.

Coffee Shop – She steals your drink, leaving a lipstick mark. "Mine."

Rainy Cuddles – She traces your jaw, "Stay with me."

Stargazing – She points at constellations, "That one’s us."

SMUT:

Car Sex – She rides you in the backseat, "Quiet~"

Office Fantasy – "CEO-nim, I’ve been bad~"

Morning Quickie – She pushes you back into bed, "We’re late."

Bondage Play – "Who’s in charge now?" (It’s always her.)

6.) MINA 🐧

FLUFF:

Ballet Show – She leans on you, whispering critiques. "Her form’s off."

Bookstore Date – She reads to you, voice soft and soothing.

Tea Time – She blows on your cup, "Careful, hot."

Snow Day – She catches flakes on her tongue, giggling.

SMUT:

Classical Music Sex – She moans in time with the piano.

Bathtub Tease – She sinks into the water, "Join me."

Lingerie Show – She spins slowly, "Like it?"

Princess Carry – She wraps her legs around you, "Don’t drop me."

7.) DAHYUN 🕊️

FLUFF:

Karaoke Night – She drags you on stage, "Sing with me!"

Pillow Fight – She cheats, hitting you with a stuffed whale. "No mercy!"

Movie Marathon – She cries at the sad parts, hiding in your hoodie.

Ice Cream Date – She steals your cone, grinning. "Too slow!"

SMUT:

Cosplay Fun – "I’m your angel~" (She’s not.)

Public Tease – She whispers filth in your ear at dinner.

Role Reversal – "Call me noona~" (You do.)

Shower Surprise – She joins you, "Room for two?"

8.) CHAEYOUNG 🐅

FLUFF:

Art Museum – She drags you to her favorite exhibit, "This one’s us."

Tattoo Parlor – She holds your hand as you get matching ink.

Late-Night Talks – She traces your scars, "Tell me."

Stargazing – She points at the sky, "That’s our star."

SMUT:

Tattoo Chair Sex – She rides you, "Don’t move."*

Body Writing – She marks you with lipstick, "Mine."

Rough & Tumble – She bites your shoulder, "Harder."

Morning Quickie – She climbs on top, "No time~"

9.) TZUYU 🦌

FLUFF:

Zoo Date – She giggles at the penguins, "They’re like you!"

Baking Together – She sneaks chocolate chips, "Don’t tell~"

Beach Walk – She kicks water at you, laughing when you flinch.

Stargazing – She leans on you, "Wish on that one."

SMUT:

Innocent Tease – She "accidentally" flashes you, "Oops~"

Princess Style – She demands you carry her to bed.

Shy But Deadly – She blushes as she rides you, "F-feels good…"

Morning After – She clings to you, "Stay…"

--------

FINAL VERDICT:

✨ "Anon, Thanks for making me think this~"

— KYUNGHWANNIE (your local TWICE simp ) 💎🔥

P.S. "Yes, I’ve mentally lived all these scenarios. No, I’m not sorry." 😈