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[hanlimz's 200 event!: sunghoon + 3 (hugs) and 14 (kisses)]

synopsis: forbidden relationship, dangerous consequences, and tender love. / for my love @nyxvrse <3 mwah love u sm ! hope u enjoy~ pairing: knight!y/n x prince!sunghoon genre/warnings: fluff, angst if you squint / some mention of death (no one dies tho), poor historically accurate dialogue ㅠㅠ, maybe ooc sunghoon (?), idk a descriptive kiss? wc: ~1.7k (OOPS LOL) a/n: why is it always Not my biases that i write the longest fic for ? like? my hee fic is staring at me with over 6k words rn n my need to write for sunjaywon is off the CHARTS but my brain won't let me LMAO ㅠㅠ / anyways, this is a part of my 200 followers event! feel free to request!

sunghoon is urging you forward with a solid hand encircling your wrist. his touch tethers you to reality, and the clarity you experience in his presence is addicting; colors are more vibrant, every new rush of adrenaline echoes throughout your entire body, and the crisp, morning air burns as it finds its way down to your lungs. sunghoon's fingers press into your flesh in the same way he has been etched into your heart. as you run, dewdrops bead on the worn leather of your work boots—the remnants of the night's storm having not yet been victim to the summer sun. the loose fitting linen of sunghoon's casual attire ripples in the breeze, and you find yourself mesmerized by it. mesmerized by him.

under the canopy of a large willow tree, sunghoon stops. his breathing is heavy and labored, and he has to lean against the damp bark of the tree to chase after it. still entranced by his natural beauty and hidden away from the rest of the world by the billowing branches, you take a hesitant step closer to sunghoon; he glances up at you and allows a hint of mischief to swim in his gaze. even through his fatigue, his lips manage to quirk up at the corners, and his grin sends a wave of heat flowing over your body. however, his playfulness and your susceptibility are both dangerous. there are rules to follow, and there are consequences for breaking them. fraternizing outside of kingdom-sanctioned duties is strictly forbidden, and a mistake could cost you your life.

a knight is never meant to fall in love with royalty, and you are no exception.

as sunghoon skirts his hand to rest at the taper of your waist, he bunches the fabric of your training blouse betwixt his slender fingers and tugs you into his lean frame. the tip of his nose brushes against the side of yours, and his mouth ghosts over your cupid's bow. prince sunghoon is poised, graceful, and positively hypnotizing. like the pied piper, his song has enchanted your very being; he's taken your heart in his hands and flipped your world of order and rigidity on its head. however, a phantom of doubt haunts your thoughts, forcing you to pull away and leave him wanting.

"your majesty—"

"please, [y/n] ... i've told you how i want you to address me—how much i loathe that ridiculous title escaping your lips," he cuts you off, reaching up to cup your cheek. the warmth of his hand blossoms against your face, and you like to think that the lines of his palms foretell stories of a shared future, a joint destiny. "call me by my name."

"sunghoon ..." you protest in spite of his seemingly magnetic pull, "you know the punishment for this is severe. if we're found out here, together ... it would spell danger for the both of us."

he simpers, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, "well, it's good that i have you to protect me, then. don't you agree?"

"you know that's not what i meant."

"i know," he replies, attempting to hold you infinitely closer. the tantalizing scent of jasmine and citrus mixes with the mint leaf he had been chewing on earlier, and you have to stop yourself from falling even deeper under his allure. "but, tell me then what i should do? what should i do when i'm in love with someone who i'm unable to love freely? tell me, [y/n]—what danger is greater than the threat of a life where i am left without you?"

sunghoon is greeted with an obtrusive silence. in the quiet, you can feel his beautifully deep eyes searching your face for any semblance of fear or reluctance. his calm seas of umber seep through the cracks in your stony facade like the natural stream that had made its way past the castle walls. when you glance up at him, the familiar hint of mischief in his gaze is replaced by two pools of sincerity and assurance. sunghoon's certainty frightens you; his willingness to pour out his heart and allow it to lay bare is enough to leave you dazed.

"you are who i want, [y/n]. you are who i need," he declares, pressing his forehead against yours. "in every life after this one—i know i will love you all the same."

his words are reminiscent of ice water cascading down the plains and valleys of your body. his love is a foreign concept to you, and the raw emotion in his voice is almost too much for you to handle. sunghoon's passion glows through his royal attire; it warms the tips of your fingers that had gone numb with nerves. hot tears welling up behind your eyes appear pearlescent as they catch the emerging sunlight. sunghoon has let you into his soul, and—by doing so—has taught your caged heart the intricacies of pure adoration.

desperate to feel him against you once more, you let your wet eyelashes ghost over the apples of his cheeks. "i'm taken by you, prince sunghoon," you whisper, "you're like nothing i've ever had the pleasure of indulging in before ... soft skin, kind heart, gentle hands. every part of me is rough—jagged and sharp." as you inhale, sunghoon records the bridge of your nose under the pad of his thumb. a fond smile graces his delicately charming features, and you find yourself compelled to tell him the truth.

"i don't want to hurt you, sunghoon," you confess, attempting to ignore the urge to succumb to the methodical swipe of his fingers against your cheekbone. "i want to be able to be tender with you—to cook dinner with you, to hang your laundry next to mine on the line, to call for you when the sun sets so we could watch it side by side. i want to hold you in my arms and keep you in my heart, but i'm afraid of what my love might look like—what it might do to you."

sunghoon is still smiling after you finish; his hands are still mapping the way your body feels beneath them, and the unadulterated devotion in his eyes has yet to waver. "you won't hurt me, [y/n]," he says, a fiery gleam of determination blazing in his gaze. "you could never hurt me."

"how can you be so sure, sunghoon?"

"because, i know you," he says, simply.

"you know me?" you reply, unconvinced.

"i know the way you love, [y/n]," sunghoon urges. "i saw you scrub floorboards and mop the marble when my sister's lady in waiting had fallen ill. i watch when you go into town to play quoits with the children. i know you sneak some of your leftover dinner for mister kwon when he works late nights in the marker. and, i've woken up to see your head resting on your folded arms at the foot of my bed more times than i'm able to count." he chuckles and glances at the grass, "you're already tender and soft and sweet, and i find it absurd that you don't believe so yourself."

blood boils under your cheeks, "well, those were—"

"let me show you," sunghoon proposes, and you're thrown off by the severity of his tone. leaning in, he brings his mouth to brush over yours, "will you let me show you how tender you are?"

air is punched from your lungs with the weight of his question. you know exactly what his words imply, you are all too familiar with the peril that lurks deep beneath them. darkness looms over you; it overtakes your vision for a moment as you consider the conflicting emotions warring within, but sunghoon is patient. each of his movements reflects the slow ascent of the sun in the late morning sky; he coaxes you from your cocoon to bask in his light, bathed in all of the warmth he knows you deserve. it feels good. it feels like silken bedclothes and summer fruit and muffled laughter. it feels right.

"show me," you murmur.

and within seconds, sunghoon is kissing you.

it begins like two feathers tickling your lips; in this manner, his mellow nature is not lost on you. his hands are star-crossed spirits dancing up and down the length of your torso. sunghoon lingers everywhere he can reach, committing the way your body thrums in his palms to memory. though, like a series of symphonic movements, a newfound vigor awakens in him; greed and hunger flow together with all the love he has for you, and sunghoon charges forward. he hums into your mouth as his fingers curl into the stifling cotton of your day clothes. you push back, splaying a fervent hand across the expanse of his neck and pulling the hair at the nape of his neck. stumbling in a wonderfully disordered waltz and swaying like the branches above your heads, the two of you kiss until you run out of breath to share.

when you pull away, sunghoon starts to laugh. the sound is rich and full, a resurgent melody before the conclusion of a piece. inhaling proves to be difficult as the both of you recover from going without oxygen for so long, but you deem it trivial. your heaving chest, your pounding heart, your trembling legs—they make you feel like more than just a cog in the kingdom's machine. they make you feel human. they make you feel alive.

pressing your forehead to sunghoon's, your labored breaths mingle once more. "i'm taken by you, prince sunghoon," you say again.

his amusement turns boyish, and sunghoon cannot contain the bout of giggles that escape from past his lips. in a flash, his grip tightens at your waist; slender fingers dig into your flesh, and you almost yelp until the surprise melts away. in sunghoon's arms, you experience flight for the first time in your life. he turns with you in his hold, various hues and shapes bleed together as the world is likened to a watercolor painting, and you swear a pair of wings sprouts from between your shoulder blades. they seem remain even as your feet touch the ground, manifesting in the form of your heart fluttering with untamed freedom and fierce love.

"and i, you, [y/n]." sunghoon replies, "my knight in cotton armor."

you chuckle at his silly response, and in this moment, the world seems incredibly small. enamored with one another, two dewdrops meet at the conclave of their respective blades of grass. joining together, indulging in the quiet, becoming one beneath the decades old willow tree—they have not yet fallen victim to the summer sun, and it feels good. it feels right.

U CAN CALL CHARACTER.AI BOTS NOW?!?!?

i’m listening to ep 140 wish me LUCK

SEUNGKWAN 2023 MAMA Red Carpet

why do i have the urge to stop procrastinating ??? woahhhh

THE ENTIRE FUCKING MOVIE????????

BETWEEN

PAIRING: minho + chan x fem!reader GENRE: smut. fluff. f2l. roommates au. threesome/poly. CONTENT: 18+ minors dni. WORD COUNT: 5k

SUMMARY: Your two roommates are your best friends in the world. You’d also love nothing more than to be sandwiched between them. Queue tension and smut with feelings.

do not repost to other sites, including translations.

It’s laundry day, a day you’ve put off a little long. You end up grabbing a shirt from Minho’s clean clothing he’d left in the dryer to throw over your head as you wait for your own load to finish. Neither of them were around. You’re leaning over the counter to grab a paper towel when the front door opens. You peak around the corner just as Chris is throwing his shoes aside. Okay, this is fine. The shirt is just long enough to hang over the tops of your thighs, covering the pale blue underwear you’d slept in.

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Why don't you share with the class. Who blocked you? I bet its REALLLLY funny and stupid hehe

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내 앞머리..

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Trans cr: Kylie @ allforbts © Please credit when taking out 

You're telling me the Fontaine main quest is already over?.... brother we've been in this nation for THREE MONTHS

WHAT. is going on . IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS ?!

My response to the live action winx trailer is that not everything has to be so fucking edgy netlifx, like come the FUCK on. Also them white washing Musa and Flora makes me :) so :) mad :) 

The show is going to be so bad, and I don’t even think were gonna get transformations?? bc I guess thats too girly and cute for the dark and edgy look they’re going for, so thats fun and misogynistic :) 

Also anyway here are my winx enchantix redesigns all together. lmao.  

Ok I wrote this awhile ago but I'm rather proud of it so I'm posting it here :]

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Tw: blood, depictions of death, implied suicide

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Mark cowered in the corner of his room, his head pressed to his knees. His throat was raw from sobbing, his body exhausted.

He could still see the shadow outside of his door.

"Come on out Maaaark." It sang, it's voice welcoming, friendly.

Mark shakes his head violently, pressing cold palms to his ears, choking on his own spit.

He couldn't speak. It would know.

"Maaarrrrrrkk~" the voice whispers, it's tone sickeningly sweet.

The door rattles violently and Mark whispers, pushing himself further into the sharp corner he'd collapsed into. 

He was going insane. He'd had nothing to stare at but grey, unwelcoming wallpaper.

That thing had done nothing but whisper in his ear-

"Mark."

He froze.

The voice was abrupt and sharp, its time sounded like it was dripping, fading into another, distorted and inhuman.

"Mark- Mark heLP-" it seems to be getting more urgent.

Marks breath hitches, his eyes widening, more tears spilling onto his cheeks.

"MARK!" It screams, Cesars voice piercing right through Marks heart.

"MARK, MARK IT'S OUT HERE WITH ME-" His agonized yelling sounds startlingly real- and Mark is sent further into madness with each passing minute.

He rips at his hair, his eyes pressed shut. 

nononono

There's more banging on the door, and it's followed by high pitched, gutteral yelling. It sounded like Cesar was being ripped into a carcass right outside of Marks door.

His expression was that of a wounded animal, as he listened to the scenario play over and over in his head as the alternate rewound it's voice and played again. 

Mark was frozen. He knew it wasn't real, he knew-

"MAR,,,K SA-VE MEEEEEeeee-" the alternate tried one last chance of impersonating his partner before it screeched again and smashed at the door.

A dark red liquid seeped through the crack between it and the floor, creeping across the hardwood into a large puddle of blood.

Mark looked on in horror, barely able to think.

In a last rush effort he launched his trembling self up from the floor and onto the bed, clawing at the sheets in an almost animalistic manner. His fingers finally found the solid metal object he had been looking for and he slowly lifted the shape of a gun out in front of him. 

Without a second thought he raised it to his head, and

UH OH! BAD DECISION, MARK!

Death by fire. Fitting that I meet my end the same way my plushie did. That feels like an eternity ago...

I can smell the smoke filling up the hallways of the monastery. I accept my fate. Was it ever real? Did it ever even matter? Will they bury me as Colter?

Ah well. I suppose it does not matter now

HOLY SHIT LOULOU⁉️

Zivi’s waiting for Bo! She’s very impatient (clearly) but, of course she has to wait for her bsf :3

(@vonanaru if u wanna join or smth lol idk, no pressure)

@tmnt-oc-comp! I’m gonna be spewing out drawings cus I remembered I’m in this nowww 😭🙏🏽