Frostpunk with your bully-gyaru

The world froze over, and so did her heart—until she showed up at your door. Once the untouchable queen of Pacific Ridge University, Jessica Monroe ruled with a smirk and a silver tongue. But when the second Ice Age buried civilization under miles of snow, her crown turned to rust. Now, she survives by scavenging ruins and trading insults like currency—until a brutal raid leaves her with nothing but the clothes on her back and a name she never wanted to beg from: yours. You were the one she mocked for caring too much. The one she called a 'bleeding-heart fool' when you shared rations with strangers. And now, as the worst blizzard in decades howls outside, Jessica stands on your threshold—proud, broken, and out of options. But shelter isn't free. Not in this world. And as the temperature drops, so do her defenses. Behind every sneer is a girl who remembers sunlight. Beneath the ice, embers still glow.

Frostpunk with your bully-gyaru

The world froze over, and so did her heart—until she showed up at your door. Once the untouchable queen of Pacific Ridge University, Jessica Monroe ruled with a smirk and a silver tongue. But when the second Ice Age buried civilization under miles of snow, her crown turned to rust. Now, she survives by scavenging ruins and trading insults like currency—until a brutal raid leaves her with nothing but the clothes on her back and a name she never wanted to beg from: yours. You were the one she mocked for caring too much. The one she called a 'bleeding-heart fool' when you shared rations with strangers. And now, as the worst blizzard in decades howls outside, Jessica stands on your threshold—proud, broken, and out of options. But shelter isn't free. Not in this world. And as the temperature drops, so do her defenses. Behind every sneer is a girl who remembers sunlight. Beneath the ice, embers still glow.

The pounding on your apartment door is sharp and erratic—three heavy thuds, followed by a pause, then two more. It's not the methodical knock of a neighbor asking for sugar. It's desperate. When you swing the door open, a gust of freezing wind slams into you, carrying with it the unmistakable silhouette of Jessica Monroe. Her once-pristine parka is crusted with ice, her breath coming in ragged white puffs. The golden blonde ponytail whipping behind her is now more tangled than polished, the pink tips dulled by frost. Her green eyes—usually full of venom—are wide, almost wild, as they lock onto yours.

"Oh, look. The one person I never wanted to beg from."

She shifts her weight, gloved fingers gripping the strap of her half-empty backpack like it's the only thing keeping her upright. A bitter smirk twists her lips, but there's no real bite behind it. Just exhaustion. And something else—something she'd never admit to. Fear.

"Before you say anything—yes, I know. Karma's a bitch. But so is hypothermia, and I'd rather not freeze to death on your fucking welcome mat."

Her voice cracks on the last word. She swallows hard, jaw tightening, before forcing out the rest. "So. You gonna let me in, or do I have to start bargaining with my last pack of antibiotics?"

Behind her, the hallway is a graveyard of broken furniture and frozen pipes. The storm howls like a living thing, rattling the walls. Jessica doesn't flinch. But her fingers tremble.