RaDiDa

𝗢𝗡 𝗔𝗜𝗥

[radonair]

𝐇𝐢! 𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐑𝐚𝐝 𝐎𝐧 𝐀𝐢𝐫!

You can call me Rad ✨

This blog is my little safe place where I share all my favorite songs, a quiet corner where I write stories.

Think of it like a late-night radio station: a way to send words and melodies into the air, hoping they reach someone who needs them.

Fandoms: (Mostly indie visual novel games)

Masterlist - AO3

𝐁𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐀𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐀𝐢𝐫𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐔𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝟐𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊?

MDNI.

English isn’t my first language, so feel free to kindly correct me if I make mistakes!

When the “on air” sign is lit, my request line is open. You can send prompts, ideas or feelings you want to see turned into a story. I may take my time, but I read everything.

Accounts for other fandoms:

TKDB/SD: @kinarchivist

TFC/BBD/HP/CD/etc: @neurthewanderer

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[promptcalender]

Investigative Journalism Dialogue 📰

“You know what they say about curious cats.”      “Luckily, I'm not a cat.”

“I can't print this.”      “What? Why not?!”      “You have no evidence. You want me to risk our reputation on hearsay?”

“You're not the first to start investigating this, you know?”      “What happened to the others?”      “Nothing you'd want to ever experience… Oh, don't look so horrified, they got cease and desist letters and chickened out.” 

“You’re digging in places you shouldn’t.”      “Well, I would prefer not to get my hands dirty too, but sadly, people like you keep trying to bury the truth.”

“Oooh, this is a nice place, babe! We don't usually go out this fancy. A real treat, huh? … Why are you looking behind me? Oh my god. Am I a cover so you can watch that table with suspiciously well dressed men behind me?”      “Not if you keep talking about it, you're not.”

“No matter how brave you're acting right now… You sure you're ready for the fall out?”

“This could get us sued.”      “Worth it.”

[Prompt Calender: May 3rd, World Press Freedom Day]

[promptcalender]

'Tourist x Local' Dialogue 🗺️

“Dangerous area for a pretty thing such as yourself to be wandering alone.”      “What? Why, it looks pretty safe…?”      “Oh, it is. Just full of tourist scams. I can show you the real deal.”

“Wow. Is it always this pretty here?”      “Yeah. Well, maybe a little prettier today.”

“Oh my god, we're gonna miss the last train! Come on!”      “Calm down. Train's never on time. We got time.”

“Don't let go of my hand.”      “Yeah, it's pretty busy. Wouldn't want to lose you…”      “Hm? Oh, sure. That too.”

“Wait, slow down. Say it again.”      “You’re getting it wrong on purpose, aren't you?”      “Maybe I just want an excuse to hear you repeat it.”

“You’ve been staring at that view forever.”      “I’m not looking at the view.”

“You know, I've actually never done this before.”      “What? It's like, the most famous attraction of the city!”      “Yeah, a tourist attraction! I'm barely ever even in this part of town.”

“Cancel your reservation. My grandmother said she will not let you think that stuff is real local cuisine. She'd been at the stove all day and the family is feral for dinner already.”

“Next time, you'll get to show me your city, alright?”      “Can't wait.”

[Prompt Calender: May 7th, National Tourism Day]

[dumbass-star]

About Ray, i know that in the Binary ending he dont even imagine mc out, but in the Ray final, by "dont go out" mean in general? Like, to the store or smth, or just like, without him?

Like, i guess he let us go with him to the store or something lol

[radonair]

In Ray's ending, I think he just prefers the MC not to go out too much, especially when he's occupied and can't keep an eye on us. I assume Double is still out there, and Ray is afraid he might kidnap the MC again, so it's probably best not to go out too much without him.

[radonair]

𝐇𝐢, 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫

I always assume that whether you live with Ray or not, you never really get a chance to see him in his Binary Star work mode much. He likes to be comfortable around you. He likes to just be himself.

So when he gets off work, he tends to come pick you up as Ray, not as the hero. Or when he comes home, it is already late and you have already fallen asleep, your body curled up on the side of the bed that still smells like him. And if he happens to return home early, the first thing he does is rush to the bathroom, not because he is in a hurry, but because he wants to hold you while he is not so sweaty. He wants to bury his face in your hair without the smell of blood and exhaustion getting in the way of that soft moment.

So seeing him return home through the balcony with his hero suit on is really not something unfamiliar to you. You have seen him land there a hundred times, tired, quiet, already pulling off his gloves before his feet even touch the floor. But him giving you a chance to take a close look, to really see him still wearing the mask and the suit, that is a rather different story.

But if you stay with him long enough, if you love him deep enough into the bones of the relationship, he would eventually give in. He would let you see both sides of him, not because he has to, but because he trusts you with every version of himself.

Especially, I like to imagine this. He returns all sweaty and bloody, tired and drained from his hero duty. His body is heavy, his limbs feel like stone and his chest rises and falls in shallow, ragged breaths. He really wants to lie down on the floor right there on the balcony.

Just collapse like that. Just let the cold tiles take the weight off his shoulders for one second. But he is afraid he might dirty it, so he does not. He just leans against the glass sliding door slightly, his forehead pressing against the cool surface, and waits until you notice him.

He does not call out. He just stands there, breathing and existing in your orbit, hoping you will feel him nearby.

I would say he likes it the most not when you greet him home with a quick "welcome back" or when you give him those soft, distracted kisses.

No. What he loves, what he craves deep in his chest where he does not even have words for it, is when you rush to him like you are skittling across the floor, your footsteps quick and light, that smile already blooming on your lips before you even reach him. Your eyes seem glistening when you saw him, like he is not a tired, bloody hero coming home from a fight, but like he is the sunrise after a very long night. Like you have been waiting for him. Like you always wait for him.

And then you would cup his face. Your hands are so warm against his cold, rough skin. You reach up slightly, your fingers feel so gentle and steady, and you help him take off his mask. You do it so slowly, so carefully, like you are unwrapping something precious.

The mask comes away, and his eyes would slowly turn from that ruby red, sharp and distant, to dark black eyes, soft and familiar. His whole face changes. The tension melts away. And he is smiling when he sees your face so clearly now, without the barrier of the mask between you.

"Hi, Ray," you finally give him that small greeting smile.

The way his name rolls off your tongue is so sweet that he grew addicted to it the very first time you said it. It is not Binary Star. It is not the hero. It is just Ray. And you say it like it is the most precious word in the world.

"Hi, Star," he would greet you back with as much tenderness as he places a soft kiss on your forehead. His lips linger there for a second longer than necessary. His breath is warm against your skin. His hands, still bloody and bruised, find your waist anyway, holding you like you are the only thing keeping him standing.

Yeah, at home he is Ray after all. Your Ray. Not the city's. Not the world's. Just yours. And in the quiet of that moment, with his mask in your hands and his forehead still resting against yours, nothing else exists.

𝐁𝐒𝐇 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[devilinlovegames]

If Soren were to kidnap us how would our living conditions be like, and would it change if we're pregnant

This question lands directly in HIGH SPOILER territory, dear Anon, so I’m sorry, I can’t say too much just yet…

Though, seeing how ready everyone on the previous post was for him to hurt a pregnant MC, I feel like I should clear things up a little. Just joking 🙂🥴

The place of captivity is already prepared. There’ll be clean running water, food, a toilet, a shower, and more… But many things will still be missing, since it wasn’t originally designed specifically for MC.

If Soren somehow learns that MC is pregnant, he’d first try to improve her mood and keep her distracted with small tasks and games while deciding what to do next. But he’d also do everything he could to get her out of that place as soon as possible.

[radonair]

This makes me wonder. In a healthier route, would he ever go to therapy if the MC suggested it or would he just manipulate her into oblivion once again?

[neurthewanderer]

Vinterblot <- AO3

Pairing: Jim Walters x F! Reader  Tags: Implied cult themes, implied child neglect/abuse, implied alcoholism, domestic violence. Kiss. Romance tension.  Warning:  Reader’s family is deeply rooted in a specific culture and religion. Please note that the religious themes in this fic are entirely fictional, I developed them by blending my own local rural traditions with various urban legends. Regarding Reader: They no longer eat meat, though they still consume dairy and eggs. Despite this, they were raised as a hunter due to their family’s cultural heritage. Note: I have played this game nonstop since discovering it last July. I’m constantly "starving" for more content; I follow the dev on Tumblr and X, but the little crumbs of info I find aren't enough! I love this game so much that I’ve included the link [HERE] Huge thanks to @hereisremina, our wonderful dev, for creating such a masterpiece. I’m so desperate for content that I had to write something myself to survive in this fandom! I felt the game’s concept fit the "Little Red Riding Hood" theme perfectly. However, I’ve been struggling with this fic for six months because I have zero experience with snow, I’ve never lived in or traveled to a snowy climate. Please bear with me if my descriptions of the snowy wilderness or winter survival seem a bit off! I also discovered The Hare and The Hollow is actually a music album! Masterlist - [next chapter]

“Hey there, Little Red Riding Hood

You sure are looking good

You're everything a big bad wolf could want~”

You hum along to the soft melody as you drive your car through the snow veiled road, the whole scenery covered in white. Mist drapes over the air as the cozy heat of your heater keeps you warm.

It's a small vacation you give yourself, to visit somewhere with snow. You are excited to see the place you're about to visit as you stop your car at a small gas station you see on the street.

Maybe you should grab something before gassing your car, so you take your phone and put on your earphones as the song continues to play and you hum quietly along.

Stepping out of your car, the warmth is swept away, and a blistering cold breeze cuts through your skin as you tug your hood a bit tighter to cover your ears and cheeks. You put your hands in your pockets and quickly walk through the snow veil as tiny snowdrops catch on the red fabric of your coat.

You make your way into the convenience store. As soon as you step inside, a flush of warmth from a crooked heater drapes over you. Your eyes flicker a bit as you see a couple of men together, their eyes all on you the moment you enter the store. You decide to pay them no attention as you head to the shelves and grab what you need.

“Little Red Riding Hood

I don't think little big girls should

Go walking in these spooky old woods alone~”

The song continues to flow through your ears as you hum softly. Once you finish picking the things you need, you quickly make your way to the counter where the worker stands, looking tired and bored. He seems too used to his work and too underpaid at the same time, and he looks very young too.

“That'd be…” Even his tone sounds tired as he asks you, “You paying in cash or card?”

You take your wallet out as you answer him. “Cash, please.”

He quickly scans your items and throws them in a bag as you grab them. “Thank you, hope you have a great day.” You greet the boy at the counter as he looks unamused by your smile and bubbliness.

You don't mind that either as the song continues to flow through your ears. You make your way back to your car and begin to gas it. Standing by the pump, you scroll through your phone to check the time and how long until you will be able to reach your destination.

“What big eyes you have

The kind of eyes that drive wolves mad~”

“Hey,” you hear someone call to you as you lift your head slightly. You see a bulky man by a car not far away from you, and you realize he was one of the group you saw earlier in the store.

Don't talk to strangers is what you were taught from a very young age.

And knowing they're a bunch of men and you're just a woman alone in the snow, you feel the snowdrops kiss your exposed cheek, sending a shiver down your spine.

Seeing you not answer him, someone in the car peeks out and speaks up. “Oh, what are you doing here?” he asks with a slimy smile on his lips.

“Cosplaying Red Riding Hood, I suppose.” The man standing outside scans you up and down as his eyes darken, filled with things you don't want to imagine. Even meeting his gaze would make people want to vomit.

You don't answer them as you focus on your own business. The song still runs in your head.

“What full lips you have

They're sure to lure someone bad~”

Seeing you ignore them makes the man a bit mad as he slams the top of his car slightly, his voice raised, almost shouting across the space, disturbing the little snowflakes falling in the quiet, peaceful scenery.

“Hey! I was fucking talking to you!”

His eyes seem a bit bloodshot, and you doubt this guy is even sober. He might have had a drink based on his behavior. Normal people would shiver, scared, panicked, even crying and trembling like a wet rat. But you aren't one, so you just stand there in your place.

“Haha.” The man in the car lets out a nasty laugh as he gets out of the car and approaches you slowly. He walks through the snow, and it seems like the snowflakes grow even heavier, as if these fragile things are trying to prevent him from coming close to you.

The wind howls slightly as you just stare at him in silence.

“What?” His lips curve into a dirty smirk as he stands in front of you. “Visiting your grandmother, eh?”

It must be your coat, a crimson one that stands out in the white veil of the area. Like a small dot on a blank canvas but so significant and striking, drawing in every pair of eyes and all the attention onto you. Normally, people would choose darker clothes in this type of weather and area, so your choice of outfit does intrigue some people who don't know how to mind their own business.

“Wow, how did you know? Did you read my mind?” you answer him with cheerful enthusiasm in your tone and a wide smile, while in your head your voice laces with the song still playing.

“Gonna keep my sheep suit on

’til I'm sure that you've been shown~”

The man seems caught off guard by your reaction, but he soon lets out a mocking chuckle again. “Oh, so that's why you little girl travel alone in the snow,” he comments.

Little girl, my ass. 

You are clearly an adult woman. These guys just tend to have that creepy, predatory way about them, and you’re already used to it by now. You curse in your mind a little, yet your face doesn’t change at his words.

That might have intrigued him a bit as you just stare at him. He continues, this time his words even slimier, his eyes almost seeming to glow.

“How about we help you get to your grandma’s place safely?” he asks as your eyes flicker behind him to where his car is parked not far away. His group of friends are there, staring back at you as your eyes meet theirs.

Hungry and starved, like a pack of wolves ready to rush at you and tear you apart, pull out your heart as they devour and feast on your body and soul. You pull your gaze away from them and look at the man in front of you.

“What a kind offer, but I can handle myself,” you answer politely, almost too politely, as the man seems both satisfied and disappointed by your words.

He doesn’t seem to push any further, but he doesn’t seem to want to let you go either as your eyes remain on him.

“Do you need something?” you ask him as his eyes flicker greedily over you.

“Your number would be nice,” he answers immediately, as if it’s an order you can’t refuse.

Your hand is still tightly on the nozzle as you continue to pump your gas. He might not notice, but you’ve always been paying attention to the numbers on the pump. It’s almost finished as you answer him quietly.

“Sorry, I don't give my number to strangers.” It’s common sense, but many people don’t seem to understand that, do they? They always demand otherwise, which drives you mad most of the time.

The man doesn’t seem displeased with your answer as he looks at you and continues, as if he won’t give up until you give him what he wants. “You are some sweet cheeks, aren't you?” His words slowly turn heavier as he continues. “Wanting men's attention so badly like a whore. And when we give you some, you walk away?”

Yes, you’re being harassed by a random man, and it’s actually not even something odd. It’s pretty common, to be honest, and now you’ve even grown used to it.

“Oh, you see, I’m not walking away.” You answer him with a puzzled look on your face, even pretending to look around before your eyes drift back to his.

“But you should if you don’t want to piss me off.” It’s a threat, but it still sounds polite in your tone, as the man doesn’t seem afraid at all.

He lets out a mocking laugh that echoes in the air as he looks at you. 

“Oh, scary.” You hear the men standing a short distance away laugh loudly as well. “And if I’m not, you can't do anything anyway,” he continues, so cocky and confident. “That little dipshit inside can't help you around here anyway.”

He continues as you put your free hand in your pocket. It looks like you’re just placing your phone inside, and the man doesn’t care.

“What? Calling the police?” he asks, clearly knowing there’s none patrolling around this hour, or at least not in this area right now.

You let out a soft huff as you randomly ask him, “Did my coat catch your attention?”

His eyes flicker over you once again. “Yes. Wouldn’t it be better if you took it off?” he asks, no longer hiding his creepy smile.

“Mm, red does suit me, doesn’t it?” you ask as if you’re taking a compliment, all smiling and cheerful.

The man grows a bit impatient with your antics as he’s about to step forward, but you already pull the nozzle from your car and splash it onto him, drenching him in gasoline. He lets out a scream and shout as the wetness soaks his clothes. His friends are caught off guard before rushing over, but you’re quicker and pull a gun from your pocket, firing a bullet at them. Oddly enough, it doesn’t hit any of them but the small board behind their car.

The men stand frozen in place as they didn’t expect you to carry a gun.

You look at the man drenched in gasoline in front of you as you place the nozzle back on the pump. Your hand still holds the gun firmly as the man raises his hands slightly over his head.

“I like this coat a lot. The pocket is big enough to store my gun,” you comment as you slowly close the fuel cap of your car. “You know how people make women’s clothes nowadays, pockets only for decoration.” You sigh heavily as the man plans to move, but the muzzle of your gun is already close to his head.

“I wouldn’t move if I were you. No combat skills or experience. Even if you hunt in packs, you’ll get nothing back.” You give him a small warning. 

He might be smarter than you think. He senses something odd and firm and sharp in the way you speak so coldly now, that you’re not bluffing, so he finally backs down a bit.

The bullet you fired earlier still makes him shiver because he’s sure you were aiming right at him. The loud sound of the gunshot still echoes and lingers in the air as he doesn’t want to bet on whether you’ll pull the trigger again.

As his friends see him step back, they slowly retreat as well, as if they don’t want to mess with you any further.

“Good boys.” You give a small praise with a knowing smile before getting into your car and driving away immediately.

You take off your earphones and turn on your radio again, humming softly as you look at the elk figurine placed neatly on your dashboard while you continue driving into the white, quiet veil.

𓏵 　𓏵 　𓏵 　

Your car engine purrs as the wheels move along the snow-covered road, and in that quiet veil, music from your radio rings softly as you continue to hum along.

A long drive could bore you out a lot, so you try your best not to fall asleep, but what happened at the gas station earlier might have woken you up a bit.

Bunch of loser assholes. You curse in your head as your eyes focus on the road ahead. You don’t want to accidentally bump into a wild animal, though you doubt any animal would be out in this weather anyway.

The noise inside your car seems so contradictory to the tranquility of the landscape outside. Even though everything is covered in snow, white everywhere, it’s hard to define the difference between the road and the surroundings. But somehow, the closer you get to your destination, the more you sense a shift in the air. Even the rows of trees seem somehow different from a moment ago.

For a moment, you think you might have wandered into some fairy tale.

The snowflakes on your windshield seem to want to kiss you, but they’re blocked by the glass as the wipers continue to clear away the mist and fog while your car steadily rolls along the empty road.

Each flake seems like a small crystal glistening over every surface. It might distract you a bit from the road, but at the same time, it eases your mind as you let out a small exhale.

You gave yourself a small vacation, more like a little getaway, when you saw the advertisement for The Little Cub Cabin Retreat. It piqued your interest, and you thought you could take a break from busy city life in this small wonderland, where you might find the cozy, warm heart of the snowy mountain wilderness.

It’s a great opportunity to relax, so you choose to visit and see for yourself. And you love the snow, after all, well, as long as it doesn’t melt into ice and force you to clean your driveway and porch. You sigh heavily at the thought as you look at the description on the map and the GPS.

“Turn onto Little Cub Trail, and it’s the first cabin on the left.”

Your car slows as you see the sign in front of you. Dull and dented, a bit crooked but charming, it’s slightly covered by a thin layer of snow. People could easily miss it against the white background, especially with the snow falling even more heavily than before.

The letters “Little Cub” peek out from under the thin layer of snow, and you’re glad you’ve arrived now. Otherwise, you’d be bored to death. You also want to get out of your car, the long drive has made your back ache.

You turn your car and follow the path, snowy, dirty, and a bit muddy and slushy. You don’t want to imagine your boots sinking deep into that path in this kind of weather. You can already feel the wetness of your socks just imagining it. Awful. You shake your head slightly.

Your eyes dart through the scenery as the heavy snow obscures your sight a bit, but as mentioned, the cabin is right near the path, so it shouldn’t be too hard to find, right?

And there it is. Finally, you see the cabin in the distance.

Your car stops in the driveway, and you can now take a closer look at the cozy little cabin. It stands firmly and strong under the snow. The path seems clean, even the driveway clear. In this kind of heavy snowfall, with no pileup, the owner must have cleaned and maintained the place well.

You turn off the engine and get out of your car. Pulling your luggage from the back, you quickly make your way to the porch. It’s freezing now as you stand outside. Heavy snow covers the hood of your coat, and some flakes manage to fall onto your scarf and cheeks, melting immediately when they touch your warmth.

You look at the small cabin and already feel excited and relaxed because, finally, you’ll be able to rest after such a long drive. Though you booked the place for a week, you might extend your stay if you feel like staying longer.

The weather isn’t so great today, but it might be better tomorrow, right? Then you can go hiking and enjoy the scenery. You already have a list of activities you want to do here, and you intend to do them all. You kind of wanted to bring a friend with you, but you weren’t able to, and maybe traveling alone isn’t that bad either.

Still, the bad weather is getting to you. Without any company and nothing much to do, it feels a bit lonely and like a waste of time, doesn’t it? But you try to enjoy the trip, you’ve only just arrived.

You’re fairly sure this is the cabin from the pictures you saw a few weeks ago. You try to check the number, but the snow covers the sign so heavily that it blinds your sight somewhat, and you don’t want to stand under the snowfall any longer.

You look around a bit as you stand on the porch. There are no other cabins in sight, so you definitely have no neighbors nearby. It’s very private, and you love privacy. Good. You have the place all to yourself.

But standing in front of the door, you wonder where you should get the key. You pull out your phone to read the instructions about the “hidden key,” while your other hand turns the handle and it clicks open just like that.

Huh. Weird.

It’s already unlocked. Do people in remote places always leave their property this open? Maybe because it’s less likely to be robbed or broken into out here? You don’t know.

You push the door open and immediately rush inside, closing it tightly behind you and locking it from the inside.

The warmth pulls you back to life as the door blocks out the cold. Even the howling wind seems muted in this cozy cabin. Your eyes dart around as you drop your luggage by the door.

You make your way to the hearth and set up the fire. It flickers in the space, warm, dim light dancing as its crackling sound echoes through the quiet room. The lighter and wood are neatly prepared by the hearth; the owner must have arranged everything for visitors beforehand.

You flop down onto the couch, your eyes scanning the place. It’s cozy, but somehow messier than you imagined. It’s cluttered with knickknacks and decorations scattered across the small house. You don’t mind, though, it gives the place more personality than a typical vacation rental.

You notice a few things still lying around on the table and wonder if the staff even cleaned the place, since the outside looked so tidy. There’s no way they forgot these things, right? It feels like it’s been lived in for a while and hasn’t been properly swept.

You stand from the couch and look around a bit. Some books sit on the table and shelves; you give them a brief glance before moving toward the tiny kitchenette. Surprisingly, it’s fully stocked. You open the fridge and see meat inside. The cupboards are full of snacks and canned food.

It’s quite generous. You had expected to get food yourself from the small nearby town once the snow eased up. It’s still a bit of a drive, even if it’s considered close, though there is a grocery store there. You even bought some things at the gas station earlier just in case.

You grab a mug from the cupboard and begin making yourself something warm to drink. Pulling open a drawer, you see it filled with instant drinks, tea, coffee, even cocoa. You choose tea. Spotting a kettle nearby, you fill it and set it on the stove, standing there absentmindedly while waiting for the water to boil. As soon as the kettle lets out a loud whistle, you take it off the stove.

It’s been forever since you used a gas stove. Most homes in the city have electric ones nowadays. You find yourself recalling the old kitchen from your childhood. Somehow, gas stoves always feel warmer, and food tastes better when cooked on them, for some reason.

You make a cup of tea and flop back onto the soft couch, pulling out your phone. There’s no signal here, but you notice a landline on the kitchen counter. It might not be necessary, you can call anyone using that, after all.

You take a small sip of tea, thinking about your childhood. It’s been forever since you’ve seen a landline at home. You’ve seen them at work back when you were in customer assistance, but in a household? Not many anymore.

This place doesn’t even have a TV. For anyone who lives on digital entertainment, this might not be their ideal vacation spot. But you don’t really care.

Your hands warm around the mug as you enjoy the fragrance of the tea when suddenly you hear a rattle at the window. You jump slightly, your eyes darting toward the sound.

The snow has picked up, heavier than before. It’s almost a storm now, blurring the entire landscape outside. You can barely see anything. The wind howls, eerie and angry at the same time, rattling the window. It makes you uneasy. You place the mug down and stand, wondering if the windows can withstand such a raging storm. It keeps slamming against the glass like some angry cub.

But inside, the cabin remains quiet and warm. You can still hear the fire crackling in the hearth, the warmth spreading as the storm grows heavier. Luckily, you arrived before the weather got worse. You let out a small sigh of relief.

That sigh catches in your throat when you hear a knock at the door.

Your heart races as your eyes dart around before your hand slips into the side pocket of your coat again. You obviously invited no one to share your solitude, so encountering a stranger during a snowstorm was definitely not on your bingo card. And after what happened at the gas station earlier, a chill runs down your spine.

But it could be the owner, right? The host? Maybe staff coming to check or restock something. Or maybe someone who needs help in this weather. You don’t know. Your heart pounds.

Your hand clenches into a fist as you approach the door and open it without further hesitation, face to face with whoever stands in the storm.

Call it insanity. Insane enough to travel this far alone. A couple of strangers aren’t what scare you most anyway, not after everything you’ve been through. You have more courage than that, don’t you?

To your surprise, a tall figure stands in front of you, wearing a mask. Their face is well hidden, only a pair of icy blue eyes peeking out from beneath it. He looks well prepared; his coat is thick, a black hat covering his head, snow layered heavily over the fabric. He seems unfazed at the sight of you, though it’s hard to tell with the mask on.

He’s so tall he almost looms over you, casting a large shadow as a blast of cold air rushes into the cozy cabin. Your hand on the door handle breaks into a slight cold sweat, making your grip slippery.

You feel overwhelmed for a moment, freezing slightly, but you quickly regain yourself as your breath catches in your throat. The cold wind pushes through the cracked door, trying to invade the warmth inside.

Your hand tightens inside your pocket as you continue to look at the unknown visitor, quickly scanning and analyzing him in your mind. The faint huff of his breath shows through the mask.

𓏵 　𓏵 　𓏵 　

You look at him for a brief second before asking, “Who are you?”

Yeah, who is he? Staff? Host? Wanderer?

The man says nothing. He just stands there. Maybe he can’t hear you over the raging wind behind him. Or maybe he’s just as caught off guard as you are.

You step back slightly, cautious, planning to slam the door shut. Your hand tightens on the handle, ready to lock it.

Before you can move further, the stranger notices and slams his hand against the door, preventing you from closing it. The loud thud makes your heart shiver, and snow falls from the porch with the force of his movement.

You can’t see his expression, but you can tell he’s strong. If you had to face him head-on, you’re not sure you could win. You curse yourself for putting your gun in your luggage earlier instead of keeping it in your pocket like always. You didn’t think you’d need it here… even though you’re alone.

His sudden movement makes you even more cautious. You don’t think he has good intentions. Your hand tightens in your pocket as you pull out your taser, planning to catch him off guard and gain the upper hand.

But his reflexes are faster than you anticipated. For a moment, it feels familiar, as if he has training, like you. He easily dodges your attempt and grabs your arm before you can use the taser.

“I wouldn’t try that again if I were you…” His voice is slow and deep as he speaks quietly. Even through the storm, you hear him clearly.

It’s oddly captivating.

You don’t stop. You try to kick him, and he releases you immediately. Before he can dodge or before your leg connects, you lower your shoulder and try to push past him, hoping to escape the intimidating man in front of you.

But he’s too fast. Your shoulder collides with his chest. He’s like a solid wall. He doesn’t budge an inch. He grabs your arm again. His hands are strong, though not tight enough to hurt. Still, it’s enough to keep you from breaking free. He anchors you firmly in place.

You can’t read his face, but your eyes meet his more closely now. Through strands of long hair and the shadow of his hat, you see icy blue eyes. Like snowflakes falling from the sky. Like crystals at the edge of a frozen window. But at the same time, they remind you of the surface of an icy lake, cold, deep, and unreadable.

Deep. Somewhat sad. 

Dark. Full of mystery and untold stories. 

Like a still lake hiding secrets that could drown you at any moment.

The storm howls louder outside, as if warning you not to move, not to fight him. He doesn’t break eye contact. He just stares into your eyes.

You struggle against his gloved hand, but it’s useless. He’s much stronger than you expected.

“Please let go of me,” you say slowly. It’s a plea, but it sounds more like a warning, almost an order.

He remains unfazed.

His grip tightens slightly. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.” His voice is still deep and low, steady and unreadable.

You frown before he speaks again. “Especially not in this weather. There’s a snowstorm.”

As if to support his words, the wind howls louder. Snow whips through the air, and you can barely see anything beyond the porch. Your thoughts race between him and the white blur outside. The trees are gone, swallowed by snow. You doubt you could even walk five steps out there.

“You won’t survive out there alone. You wouldn’t even make it five minutes in this storm, by the look of you.” His eyes scan you up and down.

You’ve never felt so exposed and vulnerable. His tone is indifferent, almost factual, but something in it bruises your pride. Maybe a hint of silent judgment. Even if he’s stating the obvious, it stings.

Then he suddenly lets go.

The release is so abrupt that you stumble backward into the cabin. As if he anticipated it, he follows your movement and steps inside, closing the door behind him as though it’s the most natural thing in the world.

He pulls down his mask.

You’re… impressed.

Your eyes take in his features. Nothing dramatically striking, yet everything fits together in a strangely compelling way. Balanced but slightly irregular, enough to make him unique. The tall bridge of his nose stands out.

He dusts snow from his clothes and hangs his coat by the door casually, as if finding a stranger inside his house isn’t strange at all. Still, at least he hasn’t tried to kill you.

“Um, I’m Jim. This is my place.” He speaks quietly.

You stare at him, speechless, not just because of what he said, but because of how casually he says it. As if he has no idea he just scared you half to death.

Wait.

Did you just invade someone’s house?

You’re not exactly in a position to judge him. He came home to find a random stranger inside. A normal owner would shout, call the police, accuse you of breaking in. But he’s calm. Almost too calm. As if he doesn’t care who you are or how you got here.

“What’s… your name?” he asks after noticing your silence.

Telling a stranger your real name doesn’t feel wise. “Jim” could be fake, too. It sounds almost too convenient.

You answer before overthinking. You give him a fake name, the one you use on your social media account.

He repeats it quietly. After a brief pause, he gestures toward the fireplace, inviting you to sit.

You still feel uncomfortable by his presence.

“I’m going to leave now. Sorry for the intrusion.”

For the first time, you see something shift in his expression. Panic flashes briefly across his face.

“But… it’s not safe to leave right now. You can stay here and go later.” He tries to reason with you. The wind howls against the windows as if agreeing with him.

You ignore him. You move past him, grab your luggage, and step outside. The storm swallows you instantly. Wind screams in your ears. Snow lashes at your skin, biting through fabric. The cold seeps in fast.

You barely recognize the porch. Snow has doubled in height already. You unlock your car.

For a moment, you hesitate and glance back. Jim stands outside again, coat and mask on, snow gathering on his shoulders. His eyes lock onto yours, intense and almost pleading.

You get into the car and start the engine.

“Wait-”

You ignore him.

The tires spin once. Twice. They catch briefly, then slip. The wheels scream against the ice. The car lurches forward violently but doesn’t move. It sinks deeper into the snow.

Through the windshield, Jim approaches. His face now clearly shows concern. He shouts over the storm, his voice edged with urgency. 

“You’ll die out there!”

The words slam into you.

The tires spin uselessly. You sigh and nearly bang your head against the steering wheel. What have you gotten yourself into?

You stop trying.

Jim stands outside your window, still talking, afraid you’ll attempt to leave again.

“You think you can survive out here on your own? Look outside.” He gestures toward the towering snowdrifts and the obliterated road.

“There’s nowhere to go.”

That’s both fair and terrifying.

You meet his icy blue gaze again. Snowflakes cling to his hair and lashes, sharpening his features against the blurred white world. Somehow, he still looks sharply defined in a landscape that has erased everything else.

You give up.

Defeat tastes bitter, but so does freezing to death.

Seeing that you’ve stopped, he reaches for your car door and pulls it open.

“Promise you won’t kill me,” you say firmly.

His eyes widen slightly. He seems unsure whether you’re joking or serious. After a second, he nods. No offense taken. No visible reaction.

As if the idea has nothing to do with him.

Silently, he leads you back into the cabin.

𓏵 　𓏵 　𓏵 　

And that’s how you end up sitting by the fireplace with the man. He was even nice enough to reheat your tea, as he didn’t chase you out into the snowstorm. In fact, he just glanced at you distrustfully, as if you might try to run out into the snow again. Like a child who lost their parent, you feel your ears heat up a bit, embarrassed by your impulsive action earlier.

He said he’d try to answer any concerns that you have, and you figure if you’re going to crash at his place, then it’s better to get to know him a bit. After all, you don’t want to be stuck in the same place with someone you don’t know, whether or not he could be a potential serial killer. Yeah, you’re paranoid, but it’s never too bad to be paranoid sometimes because you’re here alone, vulnerable with a man you don’t know. And he clearly knows the area way better than you.

So you agree to his offer of some conversation. He takes off his hat, and you can see his long, pale blond hair more clearly. It doesn’t seem to be well taken care of, but it’s smooth enough to catch the glimmer of the fire crackling in the hearth, and you can’t take your eyes off him.

He tells you the basic layout of the house. “That’s the bathroom, and you can put your things in the spare room on your right.” He speaks slowly as your eyes follow his gaze to the guest room.

You’re glad that he has a spare room, or else how would you stay here anyway? 

He continues as his gaze moves to the left. “This is my room, by the front door.” As if thinking you’re still doubting his hospitality, he adds, “It’s not much… but you’re safe here…”

You have already checked your room earlier. It’s small but cozy. It’s simply furnished, as it’s all you need after all.

You still feel awkward, but it’s kind of sweet that he didn’t chase you out and that he’s trying to be a good host. You can tell he’s not used to interacting with many people just by the way he speaks, as your eyes drift back to the hearth in front of you. The fire crackles slightly as the light seems to dance in your eyes, reflecting the warmth of the cabin as you hold the mug in your hands.

Jim cradles his mug in his hands, savoring the warmth before taking a small sip. He seems more relaxed now, but you can sense his shyness radiating in the air. His flickering golden strands catch at the corner of your eye, and you can’t help but drift your gaze to him again. As you said, his features are very captivating. And his long hair just adds to that, as the light from the hearth seems to kiss the side of his face slightly.

Yellow-red dots flicker in his icy pupils like a contradiction, ice that holds a fire warmly deep within them. A stray strand of his hair falls to the side of his face, like a soft wind kissing the leaves on a small branch of a tree, softly and subtly enough to make you wonder how soft his hair might be.

Even though it’s disheveled and slightly damp from the snowstorm outside, he still keeps it pretty long. It makes you wonder how long he’s been growing it out and how well he takes care of it.

His eyes flicker to you occasionally, as if he can sense your gaze but is too awkward to say anything. He glances back down at his drink as he speaks up. “Sorry… I’m not used to having company, I guess…”

It comes out a bit slow and hesitant, and you can sense the soft shift in his tone. It’s not that he’s not being sincere, but his tone is still laced with awkwardness and nerves. You tilt your head, wondering why he has to explain anything when you’re not even a guest… more of an intruder.

As you mentioned, you can tell he’s not used to interacting with others just by the way he speaks. But luckily for both of you, you know how to socialize due to your past working experience. Yes, networking and socializing were a heavy part of your previous job. So you’re not that awkward around strangers. You’re awkward because of the situation more than anything.

Though you’re unsure whether he’s comfortable talking with you, he did say he’d answer anything you’re concerned about. But what you’re concerned about is him. Is he awkward about sharing about himself?

“Well, I’m quite the… unexpected guest after all,” you speak up quietly as you look at him, your eyes catching on the piercing in his ear, flickering in the light. “What would you prefer? We can enjoy the silence if you want.”

“Oh… well, of course I don’t mind not talking…” he answers, trying to phrase his words right so as not to offend you. “But since this is a bit of a special occasion, I’d like to try talking.”

His lips curve up softly as he asks, “If that’s alright with you?”

You answer him with a small smile on your lips.

“I’m not sure where to start, though,” he admits awkwardly, but you can sense he’s a bit more relaxed now, expecting you to start the conversation first.

“Well, lucky for you, I’m good at making small chat,” you answer him with another small smile. 

Yes, you’re indeed a yapper. People who don’t know you might think you don’t talk much, but with people you’re close to or comfortable enough with, you can’t stop your mouth.

“What were you doing outside just now?” You don’t even have to think to come up with a question. This is what you’re most curious about. It’s not the best weather to go out, and still he left his cabin unlocked and went somewhere.

And he might have knocked earlier because he saw some stranger’s car parked right in front of his porch. Oops.

“Hmm, just checking some traps I set out in the woods nearby,” he answers quietly as his eyes drift to the fire in the hearth.

“Traps?” The word slips out of you in curiosity as your eyes never leave him.

Sensing your curiosity, he continues, “For small animals like… rabbits and such. Mostly…” He continues quietly. “Nothing in the traps today. Probably all hiding from the storm.”

You nod. That must explain the meat in the fridge, as you’d wondered where it came from before.

“So… do you live out here all the time?” You continue to initiate another question as you keep the conversation moving.

“Used to be not all the time. Just… when I needed to get away. But now, yeah… this is where I live.” 

You can sense some tiredness in his eyes through the way he talks. It’s the longest sentence he’s given you, but it doesn’t give you much insight. But you know he’s not some visiting traveler like you. He indeed knows the area well, then. His voice sounds steady, but some vulnerability is visible in his tone.

“Get away from what?” you ask, wondering if you should even continue the topic.

He seems hesitant, might try to find the right words to settle on what to say. But then he just gives you a very short answer. 

“Everything.” 

It’s short, but it seems to hold all the things inside his mind as you can sense the air shift a bit heavier. 

“The noise. The people. It’s just… too much.”

Not a fan of cities, you suppose, by his answer.

“Me too…” you answer as you take a small sip from your mug. “Sometimes I want a break. That’s why I came all the way out here,” you explain slightly about the purpose of your trip. “I wish I could be away all the time, though,” you add, as you indeed want to. 

But your life doesn’t allow you to be away for too long.

His lips twist slightly into a faint smile as his gaze holds yours for a minute longer than before, and he makes a small comment. “And instead, you end up in the wrong cabin.”

You groan at his reminder as he continues, “Heh, sorry. I didn’t mean to rub it in.” He speaks quietly, and you soon let out a soft laugh, your cheeks feeling a bit warmer.

“Not exactly the peaceful getaway I planned,” you give him a short answer as he lets out a deep, rich chuckle.

“Well, I guess it’s not every day you accidentally break into someone’s house.”

Oh, so he knows how to tease.

You think to yourself as you hear his words. But you only let out a small chuckle, and the tension seems to melt away as you both laugh.

𓏵 　𓏵 　𓏵 　

“I hope you do get what you came here for…” he speaks up so suddenly that you’re pulled back from your thoughts to his voice. But he doesn’t say anything further as the silence falls once again.

“What do you usually do out here then?” you ask, because maybe he can give you some idea of what to do in the area. You already have some activities planned out, but you’d still want to hear more from a local.

“Uh, I like to be in nature and be alone…” he answers briefly.

“Like hiking?” you chime in, trying to guess at any activities he does.

“Hmm. I hunt and fish when the weather’s better. Sometimes I make stuff…” He pauses before continuing. “There’s a town a ways from here, but I mostly keep to myself…” His eyes dart around, and you can see the tips of his ears redden a bit. He must not be used to sharing about his own life like this.

You’re curious, but you don’t want to pry into his business. It’s better to let people talk when they’re ready.

“So you don’t see many people around here?” you ask, and he nods.

“Yeah, to be honest, you’re the first person I’ve really talked to in a couple of months,” he admits quietly as his eyes flicker to you.

To be honest, that makes you a bit unfocused and distracted, because of the way his icy blue eyes seem to reflect both your image and the fire flickering at their corners. You shift your gaze slightly when he continues.

“Other than when I’m picking up supplies in town.”

He shifts in his seat as he rubs the back of his neck like he’s unsure how to say it. “I guess you could tell with how out of practice I am with all this social stuff.” He lets out a small, dry laugh to clear the awkwardness in the air.

“The isolation… it’s easier this way, and I’ve never minded being by myself. It’s peaceful,” he adds, and your eyes flicker to him once again. You can hear the sincerity in his voice. “I don’t generally like people, but it’s been nice talking to you.”

Your gaze lingers on him as you let out a small smile. He’s open enough to admit it. “Well, I just have that charm, you know,” you say jokingly, sounding proud.

He lets out a chuckle so deep that it seems to rumble through the air.

The rattle outside the window catches your attention once again as the wind howls and snow falls heavily outside. You’re glad that you decided to come back in here. You can’t imagine yourself trying to survive the weather out there.

“The storm seems… rough.” The words slip out of your lips mindlessly as his gaze follows yours to the window.

“Yeah, it should calm down in a day or two,” he speaks so casually, like he’s used to this raging storm. He seems unfazed and not afraid of this kind of weather as your eyes land on him once again. “If you want, I can make sure you get to the right cabin then.” It’s not a question, but it sounds like one, as if he’s unsure whether you feel okay with that. “Mountain weather is unpredictable. One moment it’s clear, then a storm can pick up instantly.”

You nod at his explanation. You are aware of how it is in the mountains, but being aware is not the same as having enough skill and experience to face it. So he’s right. You ought to be careful, and maybe with his help you’ll be able to get to your cabin faster and safer.

He runs his hand through his messy hair as he lets out a small laugh. “I knew the second I saw you that you were not used to this,” he continues. “If you don’t know what you’re doing and try to go out there, you’re pretty much asking for trouble.” It’s more of advice this time as you listen and let it sink in.

You shift your gaze to the side of his face. Yeah, his comment still offends you in some way. So you ask,

“What gave the impression away?”

You don’t know exactly what in your appearance or actions made him believe you’re incapable of surviving the mountain. But you’re curious, curious about how other people view you and what kind of version of you exists in their eyes.

For each person you know, you mold and shape yourself into a different person to fit their preferences, so much that you sometimes forget who you truly are inside. What’s the real version of you? It’s hard to tell because now it feels like all of them are fake, but at the same time, each of them is indeed a piece of you.

“Your coat,” Jim answers shortly as his eyes look at the crimson fabric you’re wearing.

Your gaze follows as you look back up at him, a bit confused. “What’s wrong with my outfit?”

“Nothing really, but not many people wear bright colors here,” he answers, and your eyes flicker to him. Yeah, black and dark from head to toe, aside from his standout hair and pair of eyes, of course.

You let out a small laugh. “It suits me, and I think… maybe bright colors are a good match with snow. Easy for people to spot you, don’t you think?”

He laughs along with you, because technically you’re not wrong about that. But the fact of standing out too much can attract not only humans your way but also wild animals. Especially when you are a small dot of red on this snowy, icy blank canvas. It’s like asking to be attacked by some predator. Not exactly the best option for hanging out in the wilderness.

He doesn’t make any further comment, just adds another piece of advice. “Just wait it out. Don’t venture out if you don’t have to.” Like a reminder, and you nod at his words.

He can sense the unease in you every time the wind howls, so he speaks up to reassure you. “I’ve been stuck in here before. You just get used to it, and then it’s not so bad.”

You let his words sink in. He seems very used to navigating the mountain. If he can stay here and handle it, then you can too. There’s something reliable about his tone.

You sip the last drink from your mug and place it on the surface in front of you. The man suddenly speaks up, continuing the conversation to your surprise because he mainly stays quiet and lets you initiate the questions first.

“So how are you feeling about being stuck here?” He has a complicated look on his face while asking, as if he’s anticipating your answer.

“Well, I think at first I should leave and go where I’m supposed to be,” you answer casually but still choose your words carefully. “After all, I technically broke into your house…” 

You see the way his expression shifts a bit, but you can’t tell what it is, as he’s a hard man to read. “But I actually like it here. It’s been nice having your company.” You think for a moment before continuing. “I could spend my whole stay here, only if you don’t mind.”

You can see his cheeks slowly blush at your words as he stutters while you still give him a small smile. “I- well…” He tries to cough and gather his words before speaking in a full sentence. “I- I’ll be honest. I’ve been liking your company too. What I’m trying to say is-” He tries to find the right words, but he keeps rephrasing and stuttering as your lips can’t help but curve higher. “You could stay here longer… if you want.”

“You don’t have to decide that now. Your mind can change… but I’m happy that you feel that way now.”

You let out a small smile at his words before your eyes return to the amber flickering flame of the hearth. By the time you realize, the sun is already going down as the darkness outside seems to contrast with the warm light inside. At some point, you find your gaze landing on Jim again. There is just something about him that keeps drawing your attention back. Not because of his mystery or timidness, but more because you have a curious soul, and meeting someone new always makes you want to know them better.

His features now seem softer under the firelight, more relaxed and warmer than the cold gaze he gave you at the doorstep earlier. He doesn’t talk much, but that somehow doesn’t bore you as your eyes linger on the soft strands of his hair dancing in front of him.

Suddenly, his icy blue gaze glances over and catches you staring. You’re a bit startled, embarrassed at being caught, as you shift your gaze away. You feel the heat on your face as you now feel his gaze observing you back. He doesn’t say anything, so you don’t either. It’s only fair since you were staring at him earlier.

“What?” His words are always so short, drawing your mind back to him.

You lift your gaze as it once again lands on those pale blue eyes he has. 

Let’s be honest here, he is very attractive. 

Not in a star-shining, capture-everyone’s-attention kind of way. But more in the way his features seem soft and deep at the same time. It takes you a moment to take in every single detail on his face slowly, like admiring a painting in a museum for hours to understand the meaning and beauty in it. He gives you that same feeling. The way your eyes gaze at him feels like feathers grazing soft petals, and it’s hard for you to look away.

“You’re handsome,” you offer as a small compliment, your eyes never leaving him. That stuns Jim quite a bit as you see his eyes widen and the crimson bloom deepen on his cheeks. Even his earlobes are red now.

You have never shied away from admitting or admiring anyone or anything beautiful. After all, most people love beautiful things, the difference is that each person has a different definition of “beauty” in their mind. His gaze shifts away from you and lands on the fireplace again as he lets out a sound so quiet you almost can’t hear it.

“Uh, thanks.” He clears his throat as he raises his eyes to you again. “I, uh, don’t really get called that a lot.”

You laugh inwardly and only give him a small smile. There’s something very endearing about his nervousness.

“I can tell,” you comment softly as you think to yourself.

People must not give him many compliments because they rarely get the chance to view him closely and carefully enough. Or maybe they’re just blind in some way.

But either way, it’s not really your problem.

Because that fact actually eases your mind a bit. For you to be the one who notices his endearing gestures is like running through a snowstorm in the middle of a dark night and finding an amber light in the distance, flickering bright and warm enough to make your feet move faster toward safety. Like finding treasure in the most mundane thing.

“But, uh, I guess I’ll take it. It’s… very nice of you to say.” He lets out a small exhale as he awkwardly answers you.

You still smile as you find his awkwardness somehow… adorable. Because you weren’t being nice, you were just being blunt. But he might be taken aback by that if you said so, so you stay quiet for now.

“You’re not so bad yourself… you know.” He tries to throw the same compliment back at you, but you only let out a small laugh.

Even his way of praising others is awkward. You know he’s trying to be nice, but you can’t help wanting to tease him slightly.

“Is that so?” you ask between your smile. “Am I your type?”

That catches him off guard, and you see the crimson rise on his cheeks. Even the tip of his nose seems red as he chuckles before stuttering again. “I- no-” He tries to gather his thoughts while you keep laughing.

“Relax, I was just joking.”

You laugh as you answer him, easing his nervousness as he lets out a soft chuckle.

The two of you just sit there by the fireplace peacefully and silently for a moment. No one says anything, and it feels right. The man then shifts in his seat as he speaks up.

“Well, I think I’ll call it a night…” He carries his empty mug as he stands up. Noticing your mug is also empty, he reaches out to take it too. You hand it to him as his pale blue eyes flicker to your hands.

His gaze lingers on your knuckles slightly as his motion pauses for a bit.

“Your hands…” He stops mid-sentence, as if afraid his words might cross a line even though he hasn’t done anything at all. “They’re blistered…”

Only when the reminder leaves his lips do your eyes shift to your hands. On the surface of your knuckles, the red marks are clearly visible, the deep crimson of each scratch seeming to grow redder the longer you look at them. You cover your knuckles slightly, shielding the scratches from his gaze as you speak up with a smile.

“Must be from the cold. I stopped at a gas station earlier and didn’t have my gloves on.” You explain simply, not finding it much of a problem. You’re warmer now, safe and sealed inside this small cabin.

Feeling scratches left and right because of the cold isn’t something new in this area, is it? You think to yourself as Jim’s eyes remain on you and he asks,

“Why didn’t you put your gloves on?”

It’s just a casual question, but somehow you feel uneasy about it as you rub your hands slightly.

“Haha, I dirtied mine, so I threw that pair away and forgot to grab new ones.” Your eyes meet his gaze again, still unreadable and indifferent, before he moves away.

You sigh inwardly as you think he’s finally let it go. You see his back facing you as he stands at the sink, washing the cups and placing them on the shelf.

“You wait here a bit.” He turns to you slightly before disappearing into the bathroom. He isn’t much of a talker, and his sentences tend to be short, almost like orders. But still, you sit there, patiently waiting for him.

You don’t know why you do that, but it just feels right in the moment, and you’re indeed curious about what he plans to show you. He returns with a small box in his hand and places it on the table before sitting down next to you and opening it.

You see him take out a small bottle or more like a small jar. You have no idea what it is. The texture looks thick, like some type of tallow because of its opaque color. He opens the lid slightly before turning to you.

“What’s that?” you ask before he can explain, as he holds the jar your way.

“It’s salve,” he answers as you take the jar in your hand. The herbal scent drifts into the air, easing your mind a bit. You can’t really tell what’s in it, but it piques your interest.

“Did you make this?”

He gives you a small nod before taking the jar back. Your fingertips brush his slightly, and the sudden warm contact makes you jump a bit in your seat.

“Sorry…” he notices your subtle reaction and speaks again. “You should apply some to your hands.” He explains slowly and patiently. “The cold can make your skin more fragile and prone to bruises and scratches.”

You look at him as he fidgets with the jar in his palm, seeming awkward about his own words. Which somehow makes you want to tease him even more, especially when his skin is so pale, pale enough for you to clearly see every shade of red on his captivating face.

You let out a small smile. “Can you help me with that?”

He’s caught off guard by your question, and you see the way his fingers fidget slightly at your words. You don’t even need to hold his hand to know his palms must be sweating out of nervousness.

“I- okay…” He seems to battle with himself for a few seconds before accepting your request.

His hand reaches out slowly, cautiously, as he takes yours in his palm. Only then do you realize how large his hands are, at least bigger than average. They’re calloused and chapped, his skin a bit too dry, tickling yours slightly. He doesn’t seem used to skin contact and handles you delicately, as if you might break at any moment.

You almost laugh at his nervousness but suppress the urge as his long fingers begin to rub the salve onto your skin. Sticky and wet, just as you imagined, but it eases the prickling on your hands. Even though the scratches and bruises don’t hurt at all, he treats them as if they could turn into serious wounds at any moment.

Your eyes flicker to his long fingers for a moment before lifting to his face. He isn’t sitting that close, but close enough for you to see the way his eyelids lower slightly as he focuses on your hands. His eyelashes are long, and pale strands of hair fall softly along the side of his face, smooth and silky even in the dim light.

He can feel your gaze on him, because once he finishes, his eyes lift. Meeting your stare, you see the tips of his ears turn red again as he withdraws his hands. The loss of warmth surprises you slightly. He coughs lightly, avoiding your gaze.

He doesn’t say anything as he begins to clean up the small box before disappearing into the bathroom once again.

He returns to put out the fire in the fireplace. You get up from your seat and walk to your room. You peer out slightly to see Jim lingering by his door. He glances back at you, a hint of weariness in his gaze as he speaks.

“I hope you don’t try to leave again like earlier… especially at night.” A gentle piece of advice, though he sounds like a disappointed parent lecturing their child.

“Okay… well, good night then…” he adds awkwardly as your eyes remain on him.

Noticing you have no intention of closing your door yet, his eyes flicker to you again, as if making sure you absorbed what he just said.

“Of course I won’t go anywhere.” 

You’re smarter than that, either die in a storm or by a wild animal, or stay in this cozy cabin for a night with someone who could possibly be a serial killer. None of it sounds great, but freezing to death sounds worse. 

“Especially with such a handsome and generous host here.”

Your words bring the blush back to his face instantly. You let out a small laugh as you continue, “Good night, Jimitri.” Then you close your door before he can react further.

You flop down onto your bed after a long day. Yes, you’re tired, but it’s not half bad to have some company. He’s not loud or obnoxious, so you can live with that. And since there’s no signal here, you can’t doom-scroll on your phone anyway.

Seeing the raging storm outside the window, you take out your Walkman and put your earphones in. Lying back on the soft bed, the duvet warm and cozy, your eyes blur as you stare at the ceiling. You still feel a bit embarrassed about barging into a stranger’s house, so you decide to close your eyes and fall asleep.

𓏵 　𓏵 　𓏵 　

The darkness of your dreams consumes you. You’re strangely aware that this is a dream. A dark abyss stretches in front of you as snow falls heavily, making it even harder to see through the pitch-black void. In the air, you smell something metallic, like blood. Blood far too old, dried and clinging to the surface of your surroundings.

From the abyss, a pair of golden eyes appears, like twin moons glowing from a towering figure. You can’t make out what the shadow is; it moves too smoothly, like a slimy vine, creeping and crawling into every corner of the void.

You hear the wind howl through the trees, sounding like screams, as the ground heaves beneath you. The golden eyes let out a low, guttural laugh, shaking your body, your mind, your heart, far too vivid for a dream. It sends shivers down your spine as your eyes fix on the shadow. The voice echoes in the darkness, vibrating with the tremor in your body.

“You’re such a delicate thing…” A pause. “But I can’t decide whether you’re a rabbit or a little fox.” The voice continues eerily in your ears, and you want to cover them. “Now you’re on my altar. You’re the perfect sacrifice.” The words creep into your mind as you freeze in place.

“See how we match?” the figure asks, its voice lower and rougher now, like an ancient beast whispering threats to its prey.

“You try to leave.

You try to run from the inevitable.

I am the door you cannot close.

You are home.”

The wind howls louder as the entire forest seems to scream, calling for you.

“The one who dreams the wolves,”

the voice continues, quieter now. “I’ll let the whelp have you… just for a little while.”

The glowing eyes slowly disappear into the abyss.

𓏵 　𓏵 　𓏵 　

You wake with a gasp as the strange dream clings to your skin like the frost outside. Light pours through the gap in the curtain from the glass window into the small room as you look around. It’s quiet, cozy, still safe, as it should be. But you can’t erase those moonlit eyes that seemed to lurk behind the large shadows of the pines. Something that knew you by heart, its words piercing you like frostbite.

You hear a small click as the gas stove turns on. The floorboards creak like someone walking around. Jim must already be awake, so you get up too.

You crack the door open slightly and peek outside, seeing him standing with his back to you in the kitchen. His long, pale blond hair falls like velvet down his back as you gaze at him in a daze. His tall figure moving around in such a tiny kitchen creates a contrast that makes you let out a small laugh.

His fingers fumble with the coffee tin like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world. Even though he’s quiet, you can tell he’s singing along to some song under his breath. He suddenly speaks, probably having heard your laugh.

“Ah… you’re finally awake.”

“Good morning,” you greet him as he turns slightly at your voice.

“…Good morning.” He’s still awkward with the interaction, but he answers you in a low tone.

“Sorry, I’ll use the bathroom for a bit,” you say as you move past him. He gives you a small nod.

Once inside, you shut the door and look at your reflection in the mirror. Your hair is disheveled from sleep, but no eye bags. Good. That means you slept well despite the strange dream. You take out your essentials from and begin your morning routine.

-to be continued-

[radonair]

I should have posted this fic on this account instead. My other account got so cluttered because of my hyperfixations and the thousands of fandoms I jump into.

[radonair]

𝐑𝐚𝐲 𝐓𝐢𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐬

Oh, you just assume that Ray loves comfy clothes, so he rarely wears anything but his sweatshirts. At home, he has a bunch of sweaters and cardigans that are so heavenly soft, you always end up stealing one or two things from him.

He secretly enjoys seeing you swimming in his shirts, but he never really says that out loud.

Now, imagine a day when he comes home with a suit and tie, saying it is for work because he has to show up at some press conference, something something. He mentions it requires dressing formally since they have a night event.

You keep looking at that suit and tie hanging so neatly in his changing room. Noticing your curiosity, he asks a few questions about your interest, which ends up with him saying,

"Not every day I see my boyfriend dressed so fancy. I am jealous of anyone who gets to see you like this."

He blushes slightly at your words, and after a moment, he asks if you want to see him dress up because he could do that for you. He even starts planning some fancy date to go with it.

But to be honest, you only want to see him in different clothes, so the date is not really what you have in mind.

"I have a better idea," you smile mischievously at him. "Let me pick your tie."

And he lets you. Ray does not own many suits, only some standard stuff because most of his outfits are picked by the PR team. He rarely buys anything besides comfortable clothes.

It ends up with you dragging him shopping with you.

It turns out he enjoys it more than he thought because he loves watching you focus so adorably on picking out suits, ties, accessories like cufflinks, tie pins, watches, and shoes. Your enthusiasm softens his heart a little because it is clear you want to dress him up for your eyes only. You even brush his hair and style it neatly while constantly saying he looks handsome. Your smiling energy rubs off on him, and he smiles along with you the whole time.

You seem to enjoy the whole process, while what he loves most is when you finally pick out his tie and help him put it on.

You might not believe it, but Ray does not know how to properly tie a necktie. He always has someone else do it for him, or he simply avoids wearing one.

When you get on your tiptoe, telling him to lean down slightly so you can help him with his tie, he huffs out a small helpless smile and leans down to your height so you can reach the collar of his shirt.

He likes it, the soft sensation of your skin slightly brushing against his neck as you lift his shirt collar. He enjoys how you slip the silky fabric around it, how your fingers graze his Adam's apple so lightly he almost does not notice.

In your mind, he can hear how mesmerized you are, step by step, as you put on the tie. You have learned ten different ways but decide to try only two today so you do not bother him too much, not knowing he wishes this moment would never end.

Step one: fold the wide end. Step two: cross over. Step three...

It feels sacred and special when you do such a thing to him. Slightly more intimate than any other closeness you have shared, he allows you to work your fingers around him. You dress him up like he is your favorite doll.

When you finally finish and flatten the tie neatly, you lean back slightly and look at him as if he is the finest masterpiece you have ever seen.

Your eyes and lips curve up as you smile. In your mind, you think:

"Oh, he is so handsome like this, my RayRay." "I kind of do not want to let him go now. Others would get to see him this good looking?" "Well, at least he still has to wear his mask. Ha. Suck for them!" "That color really suits him. It goes well with his hair and eye color. *happy noise* Though everything seems to suit him." "I am enjoying this more than I expected. Should I buy him other things and make him play dress up with me? Like a life sized Ken doll!" "He might not like that though. Ray's clothes are always so comfortable. They suit him more." "But that necktie really suits him. I have learned many methods to use it, but this one is the best. I am still a bit rusty, so I might have to practice more. Would Ray let me practice on him?" "Now I think about it, that necktie looks so tugable, like yoink, pulling him down by it and kissing him stupid. MUAHAJAHHAHA."

"Star," he helplessly calls you as your antics go a bit too far. It is difficult for him to remain calm in public like this.

You look at him a bit startled as you speak up.

"Oops, sorry, Ray," you say with a small hint of teasing.

You have no plan to overwhelm him. He just has that natural charm. Despite being unable to attend the event with him, you make him promise to keep the outfit on tonight. For you. And that tie? Oh, you have plans for that tie.

Teehee.

𝐁𝐒𝐇 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[radonair]

Since you do so good on that oneshot u made even wanting ideas

I was thinking why not have oneshot of Mc and rays wedding night???

Tbh it's because I'm terrible at writing weddings or anything related to them. I might give it another try if I had some references. I've just never really pictured Ray at a wedding (night) 😞

I feel like he'd want you by his side and marriage would only strengthen that bond. It would keep you with him longer, and he could use that to hold you a little closer.

But the truth is he doesn't think that far ahead. I can even imagine he fears having family/children etc, considering his own childhood wasn't exactly a happy memory. So there is this internal struggle that keeps him from truly confronting those parts of life. He has never imagined a future where he would settle down with anyone or that anyone would ever want to settle down with him.

So if I ever write anything related to marriage or a wedding for Ray, it wouldn't be sweet or lovey dovey. Ayayayaau.

[radonair]

I just assume that since Silas works in a bakery and has to bake stuff all day, he must smell amazing, like butter, honey, and caramel etc 🤤

The cast would 100% surround him in a group hug just because he smells so sweet. Even when he annoyedly tells everybody that he’s sweaty, hot and GROSS from work, none of them would move away. They’d probably just hug him even tighter because he smells that good!

His sweat probably gets covered by all those bakery smells anyway.

But then I remembered the time I baked cookies for an event at my place, and the butter smell soaked into EVERYTHING. My kitchen, my hair, my clothes. It took almost a whole week to get rid of it. At first it smelled amazing, but after like 1-2 days, it started making me gag ngl 😭😭

So I feel like that’s probably how Silas thinks he smells every day after coming home from the bakery. Like everybody else thinks he smells warm and sweet and comforting, but to him it’s probably overwhelming because he’s been surrounded by those smells for hours. That’s why he’d immediately shower and deep clean himself the second he gets home 🧼🚿

[radonair]

𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭

Pairing: Ray x F! Reader Tags: One Shot, Car Sex, Oral (Giving/Receiving), Overstimulation, Breeding Kink (Mentioned), Hair Pulling, Marking / Hickeys / Biting  Wc: 4k5 𝐁𝐒𝐇 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Oh, to be Ray’s passenger princess.

Ray: "You can't sit here."

"You don't love me anymore?"

Ray: sighs heavily "This is my lap, and I need to drive."

"So you don't love me anymore 🥺"

It is funny because this is actually an idea I had for another character from a different fandom, but it works perfectly well with our Ray as well.

I am unsure if he drives, or at least if he drives that often, because I assume that with the aspect of his job, which is being a hero, having a car can sometimes be quite inconvenient.

Imagine this poor man parks for five minutes because he just wants a coffee for once in his miserable little sleep deprived life and suddenly:

“BINARY STAR, THE CITY NEEDS YOU!”

And now he has to abandon his coffee dreams, fly across the city, punch some horrifying interdimensional creature into another zip code, save civilians, answer 37 reporters asking him how he “feels” and when he finally returns to his car two hours later...

He finds a ticket right on his windshield.

DAMN IT!

Okay, at least they didn't tow his car, so it is not the worst. Because I genuinely think that would have been his villain origin story.

But yeah, I personally see Ray as someone who would rather walk everywhere than own a car. Public transportation is even worse because having that many people around him at once is basically psychic warfare.

Imagine trying to sit peacefully on a crowded train while hearing:

“Did I leave the stove on?” “I should text my ex.” “Why is that guy eating tuna at 8 AM?” “Oh my God! I think I’m lactose intolerant!” “Would anyone notice if I barked right now?” “I need to pee so bad.”

Ray is sitting there trying not to launch himself directly through the train window.

Everybody's thoughts, it is so loud and obnoxious that he feels like he could kill himself right then and there 😭✋🏻

Anyway, I imagine that if he dated you, he would probably end up getting a car specifically because you seem like the type who enjoys late night drives together. Especially if you are the kind of person who randomly decides at 1:47 AM that you absolutely need mozzarella sticks or you will perish instantly.

And surprisingly, he actually grows to enjoy it.

Because before you, his nights were miserable.

Due to the fact that he cannot sleep much and barely gets any rest, he is used to staying up all night just to watch the city, gazing into the distance, burning holes in his lungs from the sheer amount of cigarettes he smokes at night. 

To him, nighttime is boring, lonely and cold.

There is nothing interesting about the city night, at least to him, and he always finds that the night is longer than the day. He wonders how some people can enjoy this late night thing when all he can hear in the empty, quiet night is his own consuming thoughts crawling all over his head.

But ever since he has been with you, that has changed quite a bit. He finds the night is somewhat more... bearable.

Because now the silence is constantly interrupted by your nonsense.

Maybe it is because it is no longer just an empty, quiet night. He can always hear your little giggles by his side, or the rambles you have about your work, the coworker you don't like, the dogs or cats you saw on the street today, what kind of food you had for lunch, or how annoying your boss is.

And even when you are just silently sitting by his side, he can still hear your thoughts loud and clear, running like this:

"Is that a star or a plane? Wait no, maybe my eyesight is just deteriorating. Do I need glasses? Oh my God, am I getting old?!"

"Ugh, I still have work tomorrow despite it being my day off. Should I make something for Ray? He likes to cuddle and sleep in on the weekend though. Better not wake him up with whatever catastrophe I might cause in the kitchen. Ughhhhhhh I don't want to go to work. Please, Monday, come slowly so I can spend more time with my baby!!!"

"Why is he so quiet tonight? Nah, Ray has always been quiet, but he is oddly quieter tonight, right? Can he read my mind now? I told him not to unless I say it is okay, so maybe no? Did he enjoy the last meal I made for him? He is always nice and praises me, but I feel like I trouble him a lot sometimes."

"What do I have to do on Monday? Right, the meeting for the new project, submit the report to Ashley, oh, and that plan I have with Jim in the afternoon…”

"Who is Jim?" he would ask instinctively, then immediately regret it, perhaps placing his hand over his lips slightly.

And you would just laugh at him and lean closer, teasing him silly.

"I knew you were listening, Ray."

And that earns his face becoming redder than any crimson shade you have ever seen before.

Oh, he is not the only one who knows how to tease around here.

You mentioned you like stargazing, but it is difficult to do that in a city this crowded, so he would take some days off to bring you somewhere with a bunch of stars to gaze at. A small camping place, perhaps?

Could he just fly you there in ten minutes? Yes.

But apparently “the journey is part of the experience” according to you.

Though it would be faster if he just flew you there, you said you enjoy the process of the trip, claiming it is more interesting, thrilling, and adventurous. And he would go along with whatever idea you have in your head, Star.

So now he is driving six hours into the middle of nowhere because you saw one cute TikTok couple camping video and decided this was your personality now.

But I would say in case Ray didn't own a car, you would be the one with the car, though he would always be the one to drive it. He would drive you to work, and then you both would head off to your respective jobs. In the evening, he would come pick you up and drive you home with him.

Anything else? Oh, right!

Passenger princess. Oh, little Star. I would say that none of y'all behaves well, so having you as his passenger princess is quite a challenge.

He has lost count of how many times you give him those puppy like eyes whenever he drives. When he asks what is wrong, because you don't like him reading your mind out of nowhere, you shamelessly say.

"Oh, you just look too handsome driving, RayRay.”

And he almost hits the brakes. He is still not used to taking compliments from you, Star. Be easy on him, he doesn't want to have a heart attack while trying to drive you home safely. Do you know how much your words affect him?

Anyway, that is just the surface of all your teasing, only the beginning of your nonsense.

Because he knows and you know, that sometimes he cannot control what he is doing and might unintentionally peek into your mind a bit.

At first it is very harmless.

“He looks pretty tonight.”

You would still look at him from the side of your seat, but rather than just thinking he is handsome, you would be bolder, as if you want to test his patience more each day. He really needs to discipline you a bit, doesn't he?

“I wonder what would happen if I grabbed his thigh right now...”

And when he hears all types of inappropriate thoughts you have about him, about what you could do with him in this car, you can see how his hands tighten around the wheel. He shifts his body a bit and might clear his throat before muttering one or two warnings about your naughty thoughts, about you needing to “behave.”

Well, whether you behave or not depends entirely on whether you like him to pull over at some random, secluded place and absolutely fuck your brains out in the backseat.

Though I would say Ray actually has insane self control, as he is still patient enough to wait until you two arrive home. 

But do you really, really want to go home?  Do you want Ray to give in?  Do you want him to completely wreck you right here in the car?

It is actually quite simple, quite easy. So follow the instructions closely!

𝐎𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐑𝐚𝐲'𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰.

First, slide out of your seat and go down on him while he is actively driving. He is always flustered when you do that, breathlessly claiming it is dangerous while he is behind the wheel but secretly he loves, LOVES it. 

Why do you think this man decided to tint every single window of your car to a pitch black? It is for privacy purposes, obviously? 😈

Though if you swirl your tongue, lick him, and suck on his thick shaft hard enough, his knee might twitch and he might hit the brakes so suddenly that you almost choke on his length. There might be a little desperate coughing there because Ray can get very cocky, dominant, and possessive when he is horny. All that pent up frustration and all the times he has to hold himself back around you, why do you always find a way to test his waters?

Lowkey, I feel like he doesn't like you going down on him that much, mostly because his primal instinct prefers to pleasure you, and he prefers that you both melt into the process together rather than it being one sided. Though I would say if you love his dick that much, he would grow used to the indulgence and let you do whatever you want with your lips. He is your big, hard lollipop now.

Imagine a day you come home from a horrible, exhausting day at work. He has already cooked your favorite dishes, even prepared a steaming bath and laid out your favorite snacks, and all you do is order him to drop his pants so you can sink your mouth onto him for some stress relief. Now, that is unusual of you but he doesn't really have any complaints about being used.

He would only refuse when he is genuinely not in the mood or really tired. Because tbh you might have deeply corrupted him in some way. Now he craves seeing the helpless devotion on your face when you wrap your pretty, soft lips tightly around his cock. It turns him on even more when you have lipstick on and it smudges in messy strokes over his hot skin, or seeing the glistening slickness of his precum at the corner of your lip, and how heavy tears slowly form at the corners of your eyes when you are stretching your throat to take him so well.

He is also a massive fan of that deep, wet gagging sound you occasionally make because every time you go down on him, all he can hear running through your mind is just how big he is, how thick he is, how you like the heavy veins pulsing on his shaft, or how you love to swirl your tongue to kiss his leaking tip. You are so utterly shameless when it comes to praising him and he knows you do all that on purpose. Such a tease you are.

But despite that massive size, he rarely does anything genuinely rough to you. He would fist his fingers into your hair, but more to pull your head back to see your face clearer. It is such a beautiful, ruined sight to him, after all. 

He would not ruthlessly thrust his hips, though, afraid his density might hurt you. And you prefer it that way when he lets you take complete control, knowing exactly how well he can fucking take you and split you wide open if he wants, but his nature turns you on and makes you want to reward his patience even more.

Oh, and one more thing: 

It is actually really hard to make him cum with your mouth alone because he is ridiculously big, and your jaw gets hurt, tired and achy after a short while. Ray always notices that muscle tension and gently stops you. 

But if you have the blowjob skills of a fucking porn star, then you do you 😈

Suck him dry!!!

And what a beautiful tease you are. Every time you manage to break his control and make him cum, you kiss him immediately, capturing his mouth as if your lips cannot be left empty for even a second.

Ray knows you do that on purpose because every time you kiss him, he can taste his own thick cream on you, the heavy scent mixing intoxicatingly with your own sweet taste. And that turns him on even more because, wow, HIS taste on YOU. 

Cough it is because of his breeding kink cough

So best believe that after going down on him, you two always end up in an endless, desperate make out session. At least, it won't end until you notice how wet you have become just from the friction of his tongue and his hungry kisses alone. Nasty!

Anyway, back to the car thing.

He never lets you go down on him for too long because, well, Ray is impatiently patient. Can you guess it?

Like, yeah, he likes you sucking him as if he is a delicious meal, but his body also starves to do the exact same thing for you. 

But the driver's seat doesn't exactly provide that level of comfort, so you know what? He likes it when you ride his face. Yeah, adjust the seat to lean back a bit, with you hovering completely open above him.

That is such a perfectly beautiful, lewd sight for him to view from below. He can feel his own cock pulsing and throbbing hard against his zipper, matching the rhythmic throb of your slick, swollen folds right above his mouth. He hasn't even touched you yet, and somehow you are always this soaking wet for him. It strokes his ego just as much as when you worship his cock. He wants to worship you too.

But there is this one issue, if you ever consider it to be one. When Ray goes down on you, he never comes back up. 

Haha, I'm kidding! kind of

Of course he would come back up, but not until he is satisfied enough with teasing you, eating you out until you hit multiple, back-to-back orgasms and squirt all over his face. He absolutely loves when your hot juices run down his chin while he tries to slurp up every single drop.

Tbh, watching him eat you out so deviously, you understand why Gluttony is one of the seven deadly sins ✋🏻😭 

Calm down, sir!

You become so hyper-sensitive you can barely feel anything, but at the same time, you feel every single ridge of his tongue all at once. By that time, even a single soft, warm breath from his lips against your clit could make you cum right away.

You know why Ray keeps his hair long? For his hero image?

WRONG!

It is for you to fucking grab onto when he enjoys his time burying his face deep between your thighs, duh?! So you better tug on that. Hell, you can even aggressively pull his hair, and the pain just makes his tongue become more eager, licking harder on you. Yeah, yeah, be a bit rough with him. He loves it!!!

He likes it when you ride his face better than anything because he knows how much you love it when his nose bumps against your tender, throbbing clit. And he takes full advantage of that positioning, wrapping his large hands around your thighs, keeping you locked firmly in place as he eats you out so fucking hungrily.

He is kissing you down there like he is making out with you, tender and soft at first. His tongue laps slowly over your slit, caresses your swollen folds gently and circles your clit because he knows you are sensitive and moving too fast might hurt you. He takes his sweet time to wet your folds until they are completely covered in his thick saliva before moving to the next part, dipping his tongue out and sliding it between your already soft, weeping folds. He finds his way to your entrance. 

Like his dick, his tongue is also ridiculously long and slightly pointy, which never fails to amaze you how well he knows exactly how to use it.

You leak and drip cream all over his tongue when he kisses and sucks on you so softly. It gets a bit sloppy and a bit dirty but Ray likes it that way. He loves making a complete mess out of you and drawing out all the lewd, sweet, melodic moans from your throat. Keep encouraging him like that. He is so fucking stiff just imagining how good you must feel from his tongue dancing inside you. 

Sometimes you wonder: is it your juices or is it his drool coating the corner of his lips?

You think you are so clever with all your teasing, don't you? 

Then prepare, because he always pays you back with interest at times like this. He constantly and relentlessly overstimulates you. Every single time you are nearly about to cum and break, he stops or moves his tongue elsewhere. 

You needily beg him like a fucking pathetic slut, but he won't give in just yet. Because he doesn't only want you to cum. He wants you to see stars, Star. So hold that in, because he won't stop until you are squirting all over the place, dirtying this fucking damn car and painting the interior with your fluids, making you feel entirely embarrassed to go to the car wash the next day.

Only then does he finally stop, hovering just out of reach, forcing you to endure the agonizing space between your bodies.

Do you want him? Yeah? 

Or do you want his cock? Both? 

He obviously knows that, but he wants to hear it pierce through the quiet of the car. 

You have to learn how to plead properly if you want him to give you what you are begging for.

"Tell me what you want, Star."

But Ray is a big softie underneath it all, so if you beg him enough, grinding your dripping heat against his stiff cock now leaking with precum, coating his thick shaft in your slick juices, he begins to crack. You kiss him desperately while doing it, making those sweet, soft moans, calling his name between your panting breaths and finally asking for what you want in the naughtiest way you can think of.

He would immediately give in to you. Fuck, you really want to ruin him, don't you?

He would squeeze your butt slightly, his long fingers digging deep into the meat of your thighs before giving you some sharp, stinging slaps, watching with darkened eyes how your skin jiggles and tenses under his touch. He finally gives you what you want because, just like you, Ray cannot wait any longer to sink his cock deep into your warm walls. He craves that tight, suffocating sensation when you clench around him, sucking his length in so greedily he feels like you could snap him right in half.

You both hiss when just the thick, blunt tip comes in, breathing heavily as he slowly, frictionally forces his way inside you, until about half of his massive length is nudging right into your soaked, trembling hole. 

He gently kisses your temper, his breath hitching as he asks if you are okay. He is always like that, he would not move an inch further if he knew you were genuinely uncomfortable. He gives you time to adjust as he distracts you from the overwhelming sensation, helping you relax and become less tense by playing with your boobs. Squeezing them and fondling your soft skin between the rough, burning palms of his hands.

"Look at you, stretching so beautifully for me," he murmurs against your neck, his voice vibrate slightly. "Just breathe, Star."

Ray has large hands, so every time he holds you, you can always feel the burning heat in every trace he leaves on your skin, even if it is just a lazy graze against your ribs. He twists your nipples softly, kissing and licking them, teasing you with his tongue a bit until they are completely hardened, swollen and coated in his saliva until he is finally satisfied enough.

Leaving wet kisses along your collarbone is also his favorite activity. 

It is funny because you were the one who started it. You leave not only deep scratch marks on his back but also purple hickeys everywhere around his neck area and his collarbone, as if you are obsessed with marking him as yours. And it rubbed off on him quite a bit when he started to mirror your actions. 

His skin is pale so it is easy for you to mark him, after all. 

But Ray, oh, he is not just kissing you, he is sucking and nibbling, and if he finds it is not enough, he bites you. Not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to leave a bruising mark that will remind you of him for days.

By the time he is done marking you, you have already adjusted to his size, comfortable and relaxed enough for him to continue. And he sinks deeply and completely into you, burying his shaft to the absolute hilt, whispering needy comments about how deep he is inside you, pressing on your belly so softly that it makes you gasp and almost yell at him.

He laughs, a low, wicked sound against your lips, and immediately kisses you to shut you up while slowly thrusting his hips, feeling you warmly wrapped tightly around his cock. Every corner of his body is heated up. And the way your arms wrap around his broad shoulders, burying your face at his side, breathing and moaning directly against his ear… 

You can nibble his earlobe or dip your tongue into his ear. It makes him shiver and would likely make him cum a bit too fast. You can feel him throbbing and twitching inside you every time you kiss his ear, every time you whisper how good it feels and how well he fucks you. He loses it completely and quickens his pace until he can barely hear your mind, but only the loud, wet, rhythmic slapping sound of skin against skin and both of your frantic panting and moaning.

He was never really that vocal during sex before. He was never really that interested in it until he met you, as if you can dig out all the hidden, feral parts in him, parts that even he didn't know existed, and ravish him in any way you want to.

He whimpers slightly if you start to take control, like moving your hips to match his rhythm, placing your hands on his toned abs, and beginning to buckle your hips, moving the exact way you love. You angle just right so the tip of his cock hits right at the sensitive, aching spot you love the most. You sing for him so beautifully that all he can do is look at you as if he is completely hypnotized, with his hands locked tightly on your hips to steady your wild movements.

When he feels you are close, he pulls you closer, cradling you securely in his arms as he thrusts his hips deeply into you, making you cry out a pathetic sound, begging him to slow down a bit.

"Too fast, Star?" he whispers against your lips.

Your vision turns entirely white the very next moment as he still sinks deeply into you, ignoring your protests.

He loves how tight you clench on him, how desperate you are when you cum over his cock, coating him in your lewd, wet fluids. It just helps lubricate the messy connection between you more. 

But he is not done yet, he immediately picks up his pace again after one or two seconds because you are the most sensitive at the moment. He won't stop even when you cry and beg, because he knows you are begging because it feels too good and your body is becoming completely overwhelmed. 

He cradles your head by his side as he turns your face to kiss him, sharing a sloppy, tender kiss while he drills into you like a madman below, using his weight to pin you down.

He can be so sweet but so fucking mean at the same time.

And he won't stop until you cum two more times, dragging every last sob and moan out of your throat. Only then is he satisfied enough to finally let himself come undone.

"Where do you want it, Star?" he pants, his chest pressing against yours, his cock twitching violently inside your soaked walls. "Tell me where you want me to cum."

He always lets you choose because you matter to him so much, he always places your desires above anything else.

Personally, he would love nothing more than to creampie you. Yeah, he loves to feel how greedily you suck on him, so he has no choice but to cum thick ropes deep into you, almost filling you up as you might scream out loud because every corner he paints with his heat feels like it is burning up from the inside.

And if you don't want him to finish inside? 

He likes to cum right onto your belly. He loves painting your skin in his color. It is such an ethereal sight for him to enjoy. He would rub his cock everywhere on your stomach, smearing his hot seed over your flesh as you needily kiss him. He softly pats your hair, whispering sweet praise as if he hasn't just wrecked you into an oblivious, trembling mess.

And then he cleans you up with some wet tissues he always keeps in the car compartment, gently wiping away the evidence. He dresses you back up neatly, and fixes your disheveled hair before going to grab some snacks, making sure you look perfectly presentable so that no one notices what you two just did.

Then you go home, take a long shower together, and he tucks you into bed right by his side, pulling you tight against his chest.

Good night, Star.

Thank you for coming to my Ray Talk!

𝐑𝐚𝐝

[radonair]

𝐇𝐢! 𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐑𝐚𝐝 𝐎𝐧 𝐀𝐢𝐫!

I’ve been playing W2R for so long that I’ve developed a bit of an unhealthy obsession with this game (yes, I have a lot of unhealthy obsessions 😭). With the new project coming out, I’m even more excited, so I decided to make a WAN2TALK? Q&A masterpost covering some of the details Mari has shared so far.

Since this post mainly focuses on Silas (collecting crumbs so I can use on my fanfic later), it might not include every single detail but I tried to include the most important information.

If I missed anything or made any mistakes, please feel free to correct me.

Thank you all for reading, and thank you again to @mirawakestudios and her team for creating such a masterpiece <3333333333333333

WAN2TALK? - Mirawake studios - Mari Q&A Masterpost

WAN2TALK? - Mirawake studios - Mari Q&A Masterpost Website: https://mirawakestudios.itch.io/wan2talk Social Media: X: https://x.com/mirawake

[meraooni]

He probably pushed Herschel down the stairs🚶

This was funnier in my head

[radonair]

Thousand of holes in his lungs cannot compare to the one in his heart when you don't trust him.

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

writing advice that actually made my writing worse

okay but can we talk about writing advice that actually made my writing worse for a second

like not in a “this is bad advice for everyone” way in a “this absolutely sabotaged me personally” way

because ??? some of this set me BACK

1. “show don’t tell” (taken too literally) this one almost ruined my prose

i got so scared of “telling” anything that every sentence turned into… over-explained action

instead of writing:

she was nervous

i’d write:

her fingers tapped against the table, her leg bouncing, her breath uneven, her gaze flickering toward the door--

and it just KEPT GOING

like yes, showing is important but at some point you’re not “immersive” you’re just exhausting

2. “cut all adverbs” this made my writing feel so stiff it hurt

i started replacing simple phrasing with weird, clunky sentences just to avoid using one single “-ly” word

like… why am i doing gymnastics to avoid “quietly”

no one is giving out medals for adverb avoidance 😭

3. “write every day no matter what” this one burned me OUT

because instead of listening to my brain when it was fried, i forced myself to produce words i knew weren’t going anywhere

and then i’d reread it later and hate everything i wrote

which made me want to avoid writing even more

consistency matters, yes but forcing it when you’re running on fumes just trains you to associate writing with dread

4. “plan everything before you start” this killed my excitement SO fast

i’d spend weeks outlining every detail and by the time i actually started writing…

the story already felt “done” in my head

no curiosity left. no momentum.

now i leave gaps on purpose so i actually want to keep going

5. “make your writing sound pretty” this is the one that made my writing feel the most fake

i was so focused on making sentences sound “good” that i stopped focusing on what was actually happening

everything turned vague. floaty. kind of… nothing

like yeah it sounded nice but nothing hit

now i care way more about clarity and impact than sounding impressive

6. “your first draft should be terrible” okay this one is half true but also messed with my head

because i took it as: “don’t even TRY”

so i’d write things i knew weren’t working and just leave them

instead of… fixing them a little? making them better?

your draft doesn’t have to be perfect but it also doesn’t have to be painful to read 😭

idk i think the biggest thing i’ve learned is:

advice isn’t universal

what helps one writer can absolutely wreck another

so if something is making your writing worse, harder, or more miserable

you are allowed to drop it. immediately.

no guilt. no “but everyone says this works”

like okay… it doesn’t work for ME.

and that’s enough.

[radonair]

Real on the “show don’t tell.” I never understand the “show don’t tell” one because y’all know people have been complaining that books/stories now turn into more of a “movie script” because people keep pushing “show don’t tell” and especially because it encourages the fact that people only consume short content now, which makes it difficult for them to even consume any longer media like books or long movies. It’s alarming, especially where my friends live in the US. I wouldn’t go into detail on that, but I know most people who are aware would know about that. So “show don’t tell” literally becomes you writing a short summary script for some casting actor to grab the character/scene quickly before they rush to audition because they are alr late. This is such bad propaganda and I would never recommend it to both writers and readers.

The 2nd thing about “show don’t tell” is that it is actually really good advice, but lots of people twist its original meaning. The meaning of “show don’t tell” actually refers to how some writers use their words to describe things. They use lots of words in a sentence, but none of the words actually help readers imagine the atmosphere/scenery. So it’s kind of bad to throw lots of words in without really making any sense. It’s the same as saying “your sentence is really flat” and “show don’t tell” goes into more detail and shows you words you can use to make the tone less flat, not that you have to cut away every word in a sentence. This irritates me sm.

[radonair]

Tbh, the thing I don’t like about the movie is that Aang doesn’t have his flat nose anymore. It’s such a signature feature of him and now I can’t look at him without feeling like something’s wrong.

And please don’t say “it changes when people grow”

Yes, I know that, some people change as they grow but some don’t. Not everybody is the same so I’m fine with the fact that his nose is no longer flat but I have the right to miss it, okay 😭😭😭

[girlstrial]

this scene was so hot….. the catch. his arms around toph’s head. their muscles. their hair. her helm. his head against the floor…. desperately need them to pass me around like a blunt 🙏🏼

[radonair]

Considering how Toph reacted to Tagah’s biceps, I believe she was enjoying that a lot. Thank God I fell type sht

[radonair]

Social awkward dork