#For all magical girls and you are the only one left with the knowledge that she ever existed

[ambrosiagourmet]

I love Izutsumi. She's got a great design, she's a fun addition to the main party, she adds some new tension, and she's honestly one of the reasons I read dungeon meshi in the first place. I mean, "the most cat to ever girl" is an extremely appealing hook to anyone who loves cats and girls (me, I love cats and girls).

However, while I have always liked Izutsumi, I finished the story kind of feeling like I didn't really get her. I felt like I had a decent grasp on her character an character arc (she's a traumatized teen given space to feel safe and open up, and because of that she realizes that she can't grow without letting go of the coping mechanisms she once needed). But I didn't feel like I really understood her role in the story as a whole.

She follows the group of her own accord, after a coincidental meeting and a misunderstanding of what they can do for her. She's never super invested in saving Falin, at least not compared to the rest of the group. Though they do help her escape Maizuru's shackles, and are clearly good for her in general, she doesn't really have a healing Moment with the group the way that Senshi does with the hippogriff soup.

And yet, she gets an entire chapter, the third-to-last chapter, dedicated to exploring her growth and future. She's the one who frames much of the falling action, who lets us check in with everyone. She's the one who helps talk Laios into accepting his role as king. She may join the story part way through, but she is there for most of it. So Izutsumi! What's your deal!?

Well, I think I've come up with an answer, at least for myself, that I really like. Two of them, even! Though they both really work together to form the overall point - Izutsumi is the character that most helps the story face towards the future. Here's why I think that.

So the first of these "ah-ha" moments was when I realized that Izutsumi really is the best supporting evidence for Laios' point about the good things that wouldn't have happened if Falin hadn't died.

If Falin hadn't been eaten by the dragon, Izutsumi probably would still be a slave. It was because of Shuro and Laios' parties both being in the dungeon to rescue Falin, as well as Marcille's use of ancient magic in the resurrection, that she got the chance to escape. None of that would have been the case if Falin hadn't died. Shuro wouldn't have separated from the group and joined up with his retainers, Marcille wouldn't have revealed her knowledge of ancient magic, and Izutsumi never would have even met any of them. They are only part of her life because of Falin's death.

Though this isn't explicitly pointed out by Laios or Izutsumi in the scene, I do think you can very much feel the presence of it. For one, when Marcille reflects on the journey and how much it made her realize she didn't want to lose everyone, her relationship with Izutsumi is prominent:

It's the main original group at the top and center, but when you read it right to left, it’s Izutsumi and Marcille who might catch your eye first. And it's specifically Marcille and Izutsumi's relationship on display here, not just Izutsumi's presence in the group in general.

Also, after Laios' statement about how none of their adventure would have happened without Falin dying, it is Izutsumi who gets the final word:

Izutsumi is also the one here who is the most forward-facing. Chilchuck is trying to correct Laios, Senshi is focused on the immediate future, and Izutsumi is talking about her new goal.

And I want to talk about that goal in general as well, because it’s also interesting how it comes up. In that moment, everyone is trying to remind Marcille of her less destructive desires - to eat food, to share it with them, and to meet Chilchuck's family. All of which are previously established, existing desires. When prompted by Chilchuck to join in, however, Izutsumi offers something new:

That's interesting, isn't it? It's kind of funny, of course, to see her rambling on about a completely new thing, her own personal motive, in the middle of everyone working together to reach out to Marcille. Izutsumi doesn't even know who Yaad is! But at the same time, it’s kind of meaningful. Amidst the focus on desires that everyone already had, she adds a completely new one to the mix. It’s even the final bridge that lets Laios reach Marcille.

It is, in fact, even an idea that comes back later to help out another lord of the dungeon. The idea of finding new goals and feeling new desires... this is exactly how Kabru reaches out to Mithrun, after the Winged Lion is gone

So yeah, Izutsumi's presence here, both in what she's actively choosing to say as well as what she represents of the consequences of Falin's death, supports the story's ideas of moving forward. Of accepting the past, and finding new reasons to live.

Which is all really good, and that alone works pretty well as an answer to what Izutsumi's role in the story is.

But oh, oh. There's more. Something I realized after having thought of all this, because I still couldn't let go of the feeling that there was still something I was missing.

And as I reviewed the things I loved about Izutsumi - her sometimes unhealthy ways of coping with trauma, her struggles with isolation, her skill with fighting, her selfishness contrasted with the ways she grows to care for and protect the group, her perpetually guarded nature, born from the seeming impossibility of ever fitting in or finding a safe place to just be herself - I realized something.

Izutsumi...

is a foil to Falin.

Where Falin copes with isolation and trauma by being eternally caring and struggling to say no to people, Izutsumi copes by constantly saying no to everything she can. Falin is often considered selfless, but does have selfish desires that she can’t easily express until a moment of crisis. Izutsumi is delightfully selfish, but chooses to stick by her friends when they need her. They are both transformed, against their will, into partly monstrous hybrids, and they both will have to live with that - there is no undoing what has been done to them.

Falin anchors the group in the past. Izutsumi pulls them towards the future. Neither would find freedom without the other - it is Falin's death that leads to Izutsumi joining the party, and likewise, it is Izutsumi who inspires the realization of how they can save Falin.

And Falin is her future, as much as Izutsumi is Falin's. Both learn to be a little more like each other, even though they never meet. Falin gets a little more selfish. Izutsumi gets a little more willing to bend.

In this context, I feel like I have finally started to understand just how important Izutsumi is to the story. She is a proof that they cannot just go back, and she is a clawed, happy-to-scratch-anyone-who-pisses-her-off reminder, at that. In any conversation about what the group wishes would have happened with Falin, she cannot be ignored or brushed aside.

She is a reminder that, even in the midst of a tragedy so big it feels like a shadow you will never escape, you have yet to met all the people you will love. Hell, some of those people might even be catgirls. We should all be so lucky.

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #izutsumi #dunmeshi analysis #dungeon meshi spoilers

[oceantornadoo]

IDK! HEAR ME OUT THO!!!

Simon, staging the break in and what not so he could push you back into his arms??? INSANE!

Delicious story. Thank you for the food! <3

so originally when i made that last fic (which unexpectedly blew up tysm everyone) i added in the creepy elements almost on accident?? but this and another reply has me thinking...

tw: slight humiliation (but you'll like it)=

simon riley wasn't a bad man. he also wasn't a bad husband. at least that's what he told himself.

when you had presented him with those divorce papers a bit ago (13 months and 4 days, but who was counting), he thought it was a bluff. a joke. he had gone too far in your last argument, and that was your reaction. when he told you he'd go to therapy, you stared at him with a look he'd only see on men in the battlefield. dead all the way through, a walking husk. so he signed them and went to therapy anyways.

the whole time, this whole 13-month break, where you had been 'building a new life' or whatever, he had been planning. internalizing the commentary his therapist would make, and then spitting it back out to you while you moved out of his place. every time you seemed to forget one extra box, and who's to say if he hid a couple in his room? he had a plan.

over time, simon really seemed to have learned so much from therapy. so much about communication. he had become open and welcoming, far from that man who would respond to your complaints with hard stares and a lack of words. so maybe you met for coffee a couple of times and that's how he knew about the cafe by your new place. maybe that's how he tailed you one night after a date, just to make sure this new guy didn't try anything (and not to figure out your unit number). whatever he did, he played a dangerous game by letting you have this illusion of freedom while balancing his presence in your life, just enough to make you want more. after weeks and week of stagnant progress, he needed one extra push. something small, not even a shove.

and if he happened to mention your unit number to a bunch of shady guys that hung out in the alley by your building? happened to brag about your pretty pussy and sweet-smelling panties? maybe mention your habit of not locking the window when you left for work? who's to say. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

and now here you were, back in his arms where you belonged. a little frightened but comforted in the knowledge that he could protect you. the ghost wasn't shed when he took his mask off, but you didn't need to know that.

--

your body was so used to being in simon's arms you didn't even realize you had been grinding on him for the past ten minutes. his boxers you wore were sticky with arousal as you grinded against his clothed cock in the dark. even in your dream, it was simon underneath you, no one else. "si." you panted, a near-whisper that only a military man could have heard. "dove?" he adjusted your sleeping positions, tossing the covers to give you more room to maneuver against him.

"i know i said that thing about the line not being crossed." he gave you a low chuckle. silly little girl. you had finally realized how much you needed him and he was going to milk you for all you were worth. "and?" you stopped. shit. he needed to seem more responsive. he moved you from his thigh to his boner using one arm, the other one snaking its way under your shirt to stroke your back. you moaned as he massaged the tension from the day's earlier events away, giving you sweet relief. the sweetness of the massage made a hard contrast to the friction in your core as he rubbed you against his hardened cock.

"spit it out, baby." he growled. "can you-fuck." his hand had moved to the back of your neck now, holding it in a tight grip. his hand was so large he could feel the pulse points on either side of your jaw, heart racing. finally. "can you get me off? just this once?" he snorted, moving you up and down against him faster, dragging your sensitive clit over and over. "what's the magic word?" he flipped you both around, pressing his body weight on top of you.

simon turned the light on, wanting to see how needy you were. you were panting, shirt sticky with sweat as your chest moved up and down with exertion. he hiked up your shirt and took off your boxers, exposing your sticky cunt to the cool air. he took a sniff of the fabric, noting your small gasp as if you didn't know how obsessed he was with you already. "magic word." your mouth dropped. guess you weren't getting off that easily. "please, simon." he clucked his tongue at that. "ghost?" he left out a short laugh, arms reaching out to tug his shirt off of you. your nipples were so hard, aching to be pinched and sucked just how you liked them. "not ghost." he reached over to his nightstand, pulling something out of the drawer. he fumbled with his hand for a second, then held yours up to the light as he slipped something on it.

"husband." the words left your mouth in a whoosh, eyes transfixed on your wedding ring that was on your hand. the one you had flung at him after he complained about the divorce papers, the one you said you'd rather die than wear again. and here it was, right back on your finger, sparkling in the lamplight.

simon captured your mouth in a rough kiss, entering you with his ring and middle finger at the same time. "so willing for your husband, hm? all puffy and wet. look at your cunt, darling." you both looked down at your pussy at the same time. it was squelching, your vibrator sessions not holding a candle to what your ex husband could do to you. you were almost embarrassed by how desperate your pussy looked, clit enlarged from its earlier friction. his fingers worked in and out of you, wedding ring covered in slick. you watched as he pressed his thumb to your clit in small circles, a tightening sensation in your lower belly rising to the surface. "simon, si-fuck" he gave your pussy a small slap, pulling his fingers out as you addressed him incorrectly. "husband, please." he entered you again roughly, drawing a low moan from you. he captured your nipple in his mouth, teething it just enough to make you hurt. punishment.

"please please please i'm right ther-" he pressed hard against your clit and sent you careening off the edge into your orgasm, back bowing off the bed. simon gave you small love bites as you recovered, hand still working your cunt to draw out your orgasm.

finally, he removed his fingers and drew back from you, forcing eye contact. he put both in his mouth, moaning at the taste of your arousal mixed with the metal from the wedding band. your jaw was still open, looking at him like you had never seen him before. like the sheep's skin had finally been removed, and now only the wolf remained.

"let's get you to bed, wife."

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #simon riley wife #fluff #ghost call of duty #ex husband ghost #tornadothoughts #yandere simon riley

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Fertility

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.2k

Warnings: fluff

Request by anon: Hey can i request a Dean Winchester x immortal demigoddess wife reader that is the daughter of whatever god or goddess and she is not a hunter just a normal girl that make Dean and Sam immortal with her magic and everyone in the hunting community know her as Dean innocent wife and she don’t cared about that, she is pregnant with Dean baby and know she is walking to the kitchen with Dean shirt and boxer because is comfortable and perfect for her pregnancy belly and him just loved. happy ending with a lot of fluff, kisses, and possible smut. 

Summary: You want Dean to meet your mother, the Goddess of fertility, love, beauty, and pleasure. Only problem? She lives in Egypt and Dean hates flying.

Square Filled: Delphinium for @spnonewordbingo (deleted bingo)

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Man, this Bunker really does have everything about everything. This small library has vast knowledge about virtually every single monster there is and has ever been. Some of them are extinct but it’s still good to know about them just in case. You’ve come to learn that anything can happen in the hunting life.

You flip through the pages of a lore book about Egyptian Gods and Goddesses when you come across one that makes your heart soar and a smile spreads across your face. You run your finger delicately down the page and stare at the Goddess trapped inside the book.

“Hi, mom,” you whisper.

Your mother is Hathor, the Egyptian Goddess of fertility, love, beauty, and pleasure. She is the protector of women, and she does a helluva job of it. You’re a demigoddess with only half of her powers, but you’re still like her in so many ways. Not only are you immortal, but you have the power to fight well in any hand-to-hand combat, mental manipulation, and mental torture. Your mother does it a lot better than you can, but you’ve done a good job at practicing over the centuries.

She offered you a place by her side in Egypt where she currently resides but you wanted to see the world and explore it on your own. You wanted to make your own adventures instead of being the shadow in hers. It’s a damn good thing you listened to your gut because you wouldn’t have met Sam and Winchester otherwise.

The first thing you did when you came to the United States was save a woman from being attacked by a man. This man wasn’t to exert his power over her by forcing her into doing things she didn’t want to do, and you put an end to it immediately. She got her revenge just like the thousands of other women you’ve saved from having the same fate. Saving women and torturing men has gotten you this far in life and you don’t plan on stopping, not within the next few centuries, at least.

The biggest thing you gained from your Mother is the power of fertility. You can’t count how many women you’ve come across who want to have children but can’t. They don’t know how it happens, but they wake up one day and realize they’re pregnant. Your powers have only been used for good and you don’t plan on stopping any time soon.

You just love bringing life into the world just like your mom.

The bar was in full swing, and you’re at the bar sipping your drink and watching everyone. You never know when someone is going to need you. There was a couple at the dart boards who were arguing over the point system. You kept an eye on them just in case you might need to jump in.

The bell above the front door rang as two people walked in. The shorter of the two made eye contact with you and it was as if time stopped. Because your mother is the Goddess of Beauty, you’re naturally flawless. Even if you’re not someone’s type, you’re beautiful to them.

“Drinking alone?” he asked when he approached you.

“Not if you sit down and drink with me,” you flirted.

“Sammy, be somewhere else,” the man said and sat next to you. The taller one rolled his eyes and left the bar counter. “I’m Dean.”

“Y/N. Sammy your brother?”

“Yeah.”

“Younger or older?”

“What do you think?”

“I think you’re older. You have that energy about you, which means you’re just my type. I like them older.”

You were not about to tell him that you were centuries older than him.

You and Dean hit it off that night and not because he took you back to his room. That night also was the night you learned they are hunters. You saw the weapons in their bags and made a deduction paired with the fact that he had an Anti-Posession Tattoo on his chest. There was no time beating around the bush so you told both of them who you were, who your mother is, and the fact that you’re immortal. Dean didn’t care so that’s how you started seeing the eldest Winchester.

You’re not a hunter. You have no desire to be a hunter. You just help people where you can but instead of monsters, it’s humans. After a few years of being with them, you made both of them immortal per their request. You don’t make anyone immortal without their consent, and the brothers had plenty of time to think if they wanted this or not. You have the ability to take it away, but the years will catch up to the person immediately. That usually means death.

Still, you’re happy with the family you’ve made and wouldn’t trade it for the world.

You close the book on Egyptian Gods and Goddesses before getting up. You place a hand on your swollen belly and pat the area where you know your child can feel it. Once he gets old enough, he’ll be able to choose if he wants to be immortal or not. After he turns eighteen, of course, and you’d do it for him.

You’re wearing one of Dean’s shirts since they are so comfortable so when he sees you enter the kitchen, he grins. He even has your favorite flowers on display on the table. Such a gentleman.

“Damn, just when I think you can’t get more beautiful, you walk in wearing that.”

“Good morning to you, too,” you greet. He kisses you quickly and bends down to kiss your stomach. “I want to take a trip with you.”

“Where?”

“I want you to meet my mother.”

“You want me to meet an Egyptian Goddess?”

“Yeah. She’s really sweet. I think you’d love her, and I know she’d love you.”

“I guess that’ll be okay.”

“We have to fly there. She’s in Egypt, naturally.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” he says in a quiet voice.

“Are you sure? I know you hate flying.” He nods without saying anything, and you grab his face so he’s forced to look at you. “I can ask her to come here, but I don’t think she’ll take well to leaving Egypt. She has her own business that she won’t part from.”

“I’ll be okay.”

You lean up and kiss him quickly.

“I’d like to go before I get too pregnant to fly.”

The gears in Dean’s head turn as he thinks of a solution that will benefit you both.

“Why don’t we visit her until after the baby is born? That way she can meet him, too.”

“You just don’t want to fly. You’re pushing this as far as you can, aren’t you?” you chuckle.

“Sweetheart, I can’t help it. They’re dangerous.”

“You’re a big baby, you know that?”

You leave his side and sit down at the kitchen table so he can finish cooking in peace.

“I promise we can go after he is born. I really would love to meet the woman who made you.”

“Maybe afterward, we can meet your mom!” you gasp. “I can get us into Heaven. I know a God.”

“One parent at a time,” Dean chuckles and plates the food.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fiction #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fluff #spn #spn fic #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #spn fluff

[kookygranger]

Fairytale of Hawkins: Valentine's Special

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: The lovebirds return. Robin comes to the conclusion that you and Eddie are in fact perfect for each other when you denounce Valentine's Day and all things Hallmark romance perfect. Eddie softens your edges.

Warnings: 18+ minors dni, allusions to sex, swearing, reader and Eddie are in their late 20s/early 30s, fluff baby fluff

Word count: 2.6k

Author's note: A little look into the burgeoning relationship of towtruck!Eddie and you, a cynical city girl, post-Christmas romance.

Masterlist

Valentine's Day

“Fuck sake.”

Your colleague laughs as you swat away the paper hearts hanging in the doorway of the office lunchroom. “Why do I have to be assaulted every time I get coffee? I’m about three seconds away from tearing this shit down.”

“Yikes, somebody’s not feeling the love today.” Joel smirks over his mug, legs crossed at the lunch table and highly amused by your mood.

“I’m not feeling the love every day. Don’t see why there needs to be a stupid holiday to remind me.” You grumble as you reach for the pot of black coffee, filling your Bikini Kill mug almost to the brim.

“Trouble with the boyfriend? I thought it was going well.”

“He’s not my–“ You sigh. Joel was a work friend. One that shared stock in the workplace trauma and loved to gossip over a Manhattan at Friday drinks. And yeah you knew a lot about each other’s personal lives, but you always struggled with bringing down your professional walls and knowing when it was okay to share; to stop compartmentalising your life so much. Inherently mistrusting, even when it was unnecessary.

“It is–I just. I can still hate the holiday even when I’m…”

“In love?”

You make a face and walk back to your desk, Joel cackling behind you. He leans on your unstable cubicle wall as you sit back at your desk.

“So, prince charming not send you anything?”

“Of course not. He probably thinks it’s just as stupid as I do.”

“You didn’t talk about? Make any date plans?”

You shrug, “There’s no point in him coming all the way up here just for that. We’re both busy.”

Joel purses his lips and hums. You give him a sharp side eye and he backs off, hand up in surrender as he walks away. You roll your eyes when he walks past another cubicle and you hear the sass in his voice, “Beautiful roses Sarah! Somebody isn’t afraid to express their love.”

You let out a sharp exhale, rolling your neck to try ease the tension.

You hate that you were a little upset that he didn’t call to tell you he was thinking of you. You hate that this made-up day could make you feel like that when you had talked to him just yesterday, and your relationship was doing just fine thank you very much. Eddie called to tell you he was thinking about you all the time. Eddie sent flowers when he knew you’d had a rough day. Eddie sent you love letters full of poetry and blush-inducing accounts of what his mind wandered to all day when he was driving around town in his tow truck.

So why did it still sting when none of these things happened on the day that they happened to everyone else.

You should be secure in the knowledge that Eddie Munson didn’t need a commercialised day to show his affection towards you, like many other men in this world. Janet from accounts may have been cuddling her “lovebug” plush toy all day with a faraway look on her face but you knew for certain that she’d be grumbling at her husband Greg come tomorrow night when she was left to do the dishes after also cooking his dinner, despite working just as many hours as him.

But still –

Valentine’s Day sucks.

And you hate that the boy you are… incredibly fond of isn’t standing in front of you nodding his head in agreement as you dish out the Chinese takeout for dinner. Waiting with open arms and magic fingers to relieve the tension in your shoulders as you step through the door of your apartment.

You know you don’t have any right to think these things really. You and Eddie had only been dating since Christmas.

Maybe dating was a loose term, but you had been on dates. You were almost inseparable the week between Christmas and New Year's before you had to head home and back to the office and had been calling each other regularly since. Eddie had taken a trip to see you a few times (three, almost four due to bad weather) and you went on dates.

Good dates. Great dates. Dates that always ended with you wrapped in each other’s arms under your bed sheets. And god, you loved every moment spent with him.

Every full-bellied laugh you’d get out of each other, every glance as you walked side-by-side and soft kiss you shared in between conversations. He was always on your mind. Maybe you were even teaming on the edge of infatuation, and maybe this had a little something to do with your foul mood. The pressure of deep-seated denial of your feelings teetering from innocent to something, compounding in your head. Boy, was that headache really digging its heels in.

Robin’s chuckle cuts through the static over the line as she listens to you grumble.

“Wow, you really are the perfect girl for Eddie Munson.”

You stumble, “You think– wait what do you mean by that? Are you coming over to hear me grouch face-to-face or what? I got the strawberry cheesecake Ben & Jerry’s.”

“Actually,” you can picture her face scrunching up as she elongates the confession, “I kinda have a date.”

You squeal, “Excuse me?! Buckley you’ve been holding out on me! Why’d you let me ramble on about my misery when you have a hot date?”

“Because you hate Valentine’s Day.”

“Well yeah, but I love you. I wanna hear all about your cavity-inducing V-Day plans.”

Robin sighs a long-suffering exhale.

You decide to take your bad mood straight to bed and skip calling Eddie. It wasn’t his fault, and you certainly didn’t want to call just to vent and drag him down. You were tired. You missed him. You were worried that might be too much for you to admit over the phone.

***

Valentine’s Day had set the mood for the rest of the week; by Friday you were done. You were dragging your body up the stairs to your apartment, thinking that maybe it was time for you to go to Eddie. Go back to Hawkins if they’d have you. You couldn’t shake this missing him thing, and the fact that you hadn’t heard his voice in days wasn’t helping.

The past couple of nights your calls had gone unanswered. You weren’t worried, just sad. And you were finally coming around to the fact that it could only be fixed by one boy. God, maybe you had more in common with Janet from accounts than you thought. Both of your moods were heavily influenced by men.

When the fuck did this happen?

Your inner pity party clouds your awareness, taking no note of the sounds or smells coming from your kitchen as you push your heavy front door and kick off your uncomfortable business casual shoes as soon as you’re past the threshold.

It’s the loud clatter of a pan and hissed fuck that has you jumping out of your skin.

“Eddie?”

His head whips around, grin spreading across his face as he spots you by the door. A tea towel over his t-shirt clad shoulder and hands busy stirring things over your stove. Things that smell good.

“Hi.”

“What the fuck are you doing?”

His eyebrows raise, lips forming that stupid smirk that has you virtually already on your knees.

“I’m gonna take that as a good what the fuck and not a get the hell out what the fuck.”

You jog the last few steps and crash into him, arms wrapping around his neck. He takes some of your weight as you melt into him.

“Of course it’s a good what the fuck.” You mumble into his chest, feeling his chuckles under your cheek. When you pull back he cups your face and greets you with a deep kiss. “Do I wanna know how you got into my apartment?”

His laugh hits your face in a warm breath. “Robin lent me her key.” He goes in for another peck before he starts rubbing your cheek soothingly with his thumb, taking in your tired face.

“Pretty sure you’re safe from amateur thieving hands with those two deadbolts, sweetheart.”

“Don’t mock Munson, I’m a girl living alone in the city.”

He nods, “You’re right. Maybe I’ll install a chain too. Gotta keep my girl safe.” He places another quick peck on your lips before turning back around to mind the boiling pots of water and simmering sauces.

Goosebumps. Literal goosebumps at the thought of this man calling you his.

“What is all this anyway?”

He scratches his face, still turned away from you when he gestures to the vase full of wildflowers that you’re only just noticing, and the pink box stamped with the logo of your favourite local bakery sitting on your kitchen table.

“Robin told me you hated Valentine’s Day, which I totally agree with by the way, commercialised bullshit – but uh, I thought we could have like a not-Valentine’s Day dinner, and it gave me a good excuse to break into your apartment and see you so…”

You bite your lip, containing the grin threatening to break out on your face even though he’s still not looking at you. You wrap your arms around his middle, leaning your chin on his shoulder as he continues to work.

“So uh, how long on dinner?”

He keeps stirring, “Maybe 20 minutes. You hungry sweet girl?”

“Famished.” Your lips start to trace a line up his neck, doing that thing with his earlobe that makes him blush furiously.

“Oh. Wait, wait, wait–let me just,” he quickly turns off one of the burners and puts a lid on two of the pots, “Okay.” He spins around, beaming at you when you keen into his touch, warm hands cupping your face. “Hi.”

You return a lip biting hi before you practically pounce on each other. All the stress and inner turmoil from the week leave your body as he walks you backwards to your bed on the other side of your studio apartment.

You spend the next 23 minutes getting reacquainted under the large frosted glass windows that frame your bed, lips parting only for short gasps of air, before Eddie hops up, almost tripping in his attempt to put his underwear back on and jogging the short distance to check on dinner. You giggle at him, and you see the flushed pink return to his cheeks as he winks at you over his shoulder.

Dinner is amazing. Apparently, Steve taught Eddie the basics of cooking when they moved in together (Eddie taught Steve all about tater tots and oven food) and he experiments further when he’s got spare time, especially if he’s cooking for someone that he loves…like Dustin or Wayne.

The night ends much the same as it started after you gorge on the pastries from the bakery, which coincidentally all happen to be your favourites.

Eddie’s chocolate brown eyes are far away as he traces patterns along your jaw and bare shoulders.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask softly.

He exhales slowly through his nose, “Just thinking about how much I miss you.”

You smile at him, his eyes dart to your lips, “I’m right here.”

His eyebrows twitch in that frown you’ve learnt to adore. “I know, it’s just–“ he leans in, forehead touching yours, “I think…” you feel his frown deepen against your skin as he pauses.

“Eddie, are you okay?”

“Yeah…and no.” He leans back, head hitting the pillow beside you, his hand coming up to rub his forehead as his eyes scrunch tightly. You let him take another deep breath. You let him take the time to find the courage to spill out his next words. “I’m in love with you.” The hand that was tracing soothing circles in his bicep stops as his head rolls to look at you. “Like, I never really knew what real love felt like until we started doing whatever this is,” he gestures to your bodies curled up under your sheets, “kind of love.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” His face scrunches up again. “And I know, that’s a fucking lot when it’s only been what, a couple of months? And we don’t live in the same city and this is supposed to be fun and casual and you’re a cool city girl with your own life and friends and I drive a tow truck in a small town that thinks rock music is the devil’s music. And trust me,” he shakes his head, hand braced on his chest, “I tried not to. But you make it really fucking hard with your pretty face, and the fact that you look hot as hell in your little corporate outfits but also in my gross Slayer t-shirt, and the whole saying anything that comes to mind sassy without even trying to be thing, and the great taste in music, and the fact that you try to watch all my favourite horror movies even though they give you nightmares and you’re scared that your sleep paralysis demon or whatever you call it is gonna pay you a visit – which by the way is fucked – you know, you don’t make it easy sweetheart.”

He sounds kind of angry. The way his chest heaves after his admission and his brows stay perpetually creased would make anyone who didn’t know him concerned. But you know Eddie Munson.

“I’m in love with you too.”

“What?” His head snaps so quickly you're concerned he might’ve pulled a muscle.

“I didn’t think we were purposefully keeping things casual, I just thought ‘cause of the distance that’s what worked but…I’ve missed you a lot lately and I kind of came to the realisation this week it’s because I’ve fallen for you. Hard, by the way. You know I was gonna call the airline and sus flights to Indy after work. It’s not fair for you to keep having to drive all the way up here. Especially since you end up spending more time on the road than you do here with me.”

He's still frowning, but his eyes are as soft as a puppy’s as your confession sinks in. “Sooo…what do we do now?”

You shrug, moving closer to him as his arm snakes around your back, his hand rubbing soothingly up and down your spine. “I don’t know. But, I do think that I can swing a lot more weekends in Hawkins. Like, at least half the month.”

He beams then, frown lines smooth as his smile, “Really?”

“Yeah. Would that be okay?”

“I think I can handle it.” He places a soft kiss on your lips.

“What about Steve?”

“Fuck Steve.” Another kiss. “Wait, what do you mean?”

You laugh, “I mean, would he be okay with me staying over?”

“Of course he would. If not, I’ll kick his ass.” He shrugs.

“You think you can fight Steve?”

“Ah sweetheart, Steve has never won a fight in his goddamn life. Plus, I got street smarts. All he’s good for is swinging around that damn nail bat.”

“The what?”

“Nothing.” He shakes his head, smirking before distracting you with another kiss. “You love me, huh?”

You puff your cheeks up and exhale, “Apparently so.”

“You love me.” You giggle as he teases you with sweet kisses along your jaw.

“Don’t get too cocky Munson. You’ve got it bad too. You bought me flowers within the window of Valentine’s Day.”

You feel his smile against your jaw. “Yeah, I’ve got it bad. Real bad, sweet girl.”

Tagging: @storiesbyrhi hi x. And @eddieslooneymoonie, @micheledawn1975, @skrzydlak just in case.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #towtruck!eddie #she writes

[torialefay]

🪐 Venus in Scorpio 🦂

(based on astrology) 🔞

✨bangchan x reader (f); this is literally just smut with a little bit of astrology lol

✨word count: ~3.5k

✨first part in a series!!! (The next ones won’t be so horny, i promise lol) Together, let’s take a look into chan’s natal chart to see what type of boyfriend he would be… this one just so happens to involve the smuttiest of the smut lol

✨i will give a brief synopsis of what each chart placement means throughout the series (for all my non-astrology friends out there <3) and how that would affect channie in a relationship :)

✨ author’s notes:

(1) i have seen some stays come to the general consensus that chan’s birth time is 8:54 pm, but i have never found a source where he states or confirms this. if you have the proof, let me know and i will re-do this post! otherwise, i do not want to speculate about birth time, as it can affect many aspects of his chart!

- *UPDATE*: some sweet stays confirmed this birth time! so we’re good to carry on :)

(2) since his birth time is unknown (to my knowledge), some aspects of his chart cannot be determined, such as house placements, ascending sign, etc. i will ONLY be writing about his definitive placements, which are his sun, moon, and planetary placements.

(3) the aspects in this reading are based solely on my opinions and interpretations! nothing about a person is set in stone simply because of astrology. please don’t use anything i say as canon :)

✨warnings: extreme smut. you have been warned; minors DNI!!!

Venus in Scorpio: Venus is the planet of beauty and love (it is the ruler of Libra, so of course!). This accounts for both platonic and romantic love.

-Scorpios are known for their moodiness, emotion, intellect, and captivating auras. They love and find beauty in the darkest of things… Think moody tumblr bf chan. This is literally his venus in scorpio

-Because Venus in Scorpio has a very dark energy, he will most likely be attracted to dark, feminine, alluring beauty. It also explains why he is attracted to the color black and wears it often.

As your boyfriend:

• chan is borderline obsessed with you. maybe actually obsessed with you. on a level that transcends superficial. he is obsessed with your soul. in a way, he feels like he can SEE it. he gets so frustrated with himself because he feels that he can never get close enough to you. he will never be close enough to you until he joins his soul with yours. he quite literally wants to consume your mind and spirit. to live with it- live inside of you- as if it was he himself.

• he is extremely possessive over you. he cannot even think about another man touching you. although he may not say anything at first, males giving you any sort of attention would deeply bother him, as he feels like your souls are tied to each other. and how dare someone try to take what is his.

• if he sees you with his members and thinks you are getting too close, he won’t bother mentioning it to you. he will take that member aside and establish some ground rules. it is fine to play around with you, but any emotional investment they make into you is not okay and will not be tolerated.

• he waits to have sex with you. for a couple of months even. the tension between you two is absolutely insane, but he waits. he wants to know you, body and soul, before he takes any part of you. because for chan, sex means something, he knows how amazing you are, that’s why he fell for you in the first place. and he wants to be perfect for you and fully know you before there’s no going back

• the first time you have sex is absolutely magical. Better than you could have dreamt. He wants to make it special for you, for his special girl. He waits until the right time and until he knows you are ready. He has planned a lavish date for the two of you, a beautiful private dinner tucked away in a forest, illuminated with what seemed like a million candles and dazzling lights. A private chef had cooked for you and left, leaving the two of you in each others’ company.

• Every night with him is special, but this night is different

• He is incredibly gentle with you all night, whispering how beautiful you look and taking your hand ever so gently into his.

• He makes sure to repeat to you how lucky he feels to be in this moment with you and how lucky he is to have you

• He looks so beautiful in the candle light, stars in his eyes that are focused on your own. Occasionally they peer down to your lips, but then slowly move back up to look into the deepest parts of you.

• After dinner, he swiftly peppers you with kisses and holds your waist with one hand, the other hand intertwining with your own. He leads you to the car and drives home, taking his time to make sure his girl makes it there safe.

• When inside, he continued the beautiful candle theme, now with flower petals and another new bouquet. He kisses along your neck until you sigh deeply and give in under the weight of his chest

• He gently sits you down on the bed while maintaining a deep kiss, cupping underneath your chin so gently that you thought he was scared to break you

• His tongue slipped into your parted lips, and something gutteral suddenly came out of him at the feeling of being inside of you in some capacity

• His grip on your chin started to become tighter, moving down to your neck. He couldn’t separate his lips from you for fear that you’d fall away from him entirely. He hung on to you for dear life. Hungrily tugging at your bottom lip, he tried to pull you as far into him as he could without physically devouring you.

• He started to get so worked up that he couldn’t bare it anymore. He needed more of you. He needed to feel you and to transcend you. His girl, and only his girl. He needed to make you HIS.

• His hands started moving down your body, grabbing firmly as if he wasn’t sure you were really there. Your shoulders, your collarbones, your chest. God, he couldn’t believe the way that you felt underneath him.

• “Can I?” He broke away from the kiss to ask you this much. He couldn’t bare the thought of you saying no, but he would never jeopardize this love he had for you. Love… Adoration… Wonder... Obsession…

• When you breathily panted out a “yes”, he made quick but gentle work to lift your dress from the bottom of your pelvis, all the way lifting it up over your head and off. So gently, so so gently so that he didn’t mess up a single hair on your beautiful little head.

• The way you looked under the candle light took his breath away. The curves of your body left him in awe. So unlike his hard, squared, and rigid frame. You were soft, you had shapes along the lines of you, and you were fucking beautiful, he thought. He could not believe you were really for him.

• He looked down to your breasts, then back up at you, again asking for permission with his eyes. With an approving nod, he reached out to hold one in each hand. Rubbing back and forth across your nipples over the protection of your thin bra. He just kept watching you, starved to know what reactions you would give him.

• He trailed one hand down until he was positioned right over your underwear.

• Looking into your eyes, searching for any kind of resistance in them, he slightly parted his lips and licked them, moaning ever so slightly while pressing his hand with a light pressure into the fabric of your underwear. You felt him almost pull back a bit, looking a bit dazed and slightly overwhelmed, so you pushed into him yourself.

• Staring at you from above, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His perfect girl, feeling perfect, because of him. He applied more pressure and watched as you started to grind against his hand. He let out a moan and felt his dick twitch just hearing your breathing start to quicken.

• He didn’t want to push his luck, but he also knew that he could do better. He could make you feel so so much better. Slowly, he put his other hand on your stomach to slow you from grinding down on him. His other hand made its way underneath your underwear and started to ever so slightly drag his fingers along the outside of you. Feeling how wet you were made him stop and want to fucking scream. To cry. He could barely understand the emotions he was feeling. He just knew that he couldn’t stop loving you if he tried. Now, he wanted to worship you.

• He inserted 1 finger slowly, letting you adjust. When your face started to relax and look like one of pleasure, his dick became rock hard. He needed more of you so badly.

• Once he knew you were comfortable, he added another finger and watched your face. He watched the way that it curled up and how your mouth dropped open. He noted the way that your eyes squeezed shut and how you sounded when you breathed out so close to his neck.

• He began to pump his fingers into you, slowly until he knew you felt good, and then picking up ever so slightly. He curled his fingers up slightly and waited for your reaction.

• Fuck, did he get a reaction. When he heard you whine his name, it echoed in his head over and over again. “Chan. Chan. Chan.” He has never loved hearing his own name more than in this moment. His perfect girl. He couldn’t control himself anymore.

• He started to slam his fingers into you and leaned down to take in the entirety of your mouth. He thrust his tongue inside, and sucked on every inch of your lips he could get ahold of. He didn’t care if it was too rough. He didn’t care about anything anymore other than marking you forever as his own. Marking you as a part of his soul, and him a part of yours. After tonight, you would be inexplicably joined forever, living as one. You wouldn’t have to be his obsession anymore if you lived in him. He would simply always have you.

• He pulled from the kiss abruptly and stared at your face. He memorized how beautiful you looked with your eyes rolling into the back of your head. Almost like you were possessed by him, he thought. And that is all that he wanted. He would possess every part of you. He began to stare at you, dauntingly. “Look at me,” he ordered sternly, until your head slowly came upward to hold his eye contact. There was something different in his eyes. Like he was hungry.

• “I’m going to count to 10, and I want you to come for me.” He didn’t ask for permission. He said it so matter-of-factly he could have been telling you his name. Something must have switched in him directly after though, following up with a low “Okay princess?”

• Surprised at his own switch, he couldn’t believe how you did that to him. How you activated so many different parts of his brain at the same time. How every inch of you controlled what little brain capacity he had left. His soul almost left his body when he heard you gather your small voice enough to say, “Yes, my love.”

• “10,” he said, almost sheepishly, as if waiting to see what your reaction would be. Pumping his fingers now even harder into you, you let out a small moan. It agged him on.

• “9,” he came in close to your ear, starting to lick and suck ever so slightly around the outside. Anything gentle about him had left his body.

• “8,” he dipped his tongue inside your ear, licking away in slow, tiny motions. He felt like he was savoring every second he could have with you. You felt too good underneath him to not tease you a little bit.

• “7,” he moved to the area between your ear and jaw. He bit and sucked at it. He sucked so hard you thought he would rip into you. Somehow he didn’t,

• “6,” he dipped down now to your neck, licking all the way as he went. Intermittent kisses and licks peppered down until he had found his target. The sweet spot right where your neck ended to meet your collar bone.

• “5” he bit down. The look on your face of pain with excruciating pleasure was all he needed to see.

• “4… almost there my sweet girl,” he breathed out against the new-forming bruise at the base of your neck. His fingers started to slam into you and angle in just the right spot. As he heard you mumble “fuck” under your breath, he pulled his face up to be right in front of yours. He wanted to see you when you came for him. He wanted to see you when you gave yourself fully to him.

• “3” he wandered his other hand down to rub small circles around your clit. Light enough to make you jump and writhe under his touch. He loved to watch you squirm like that. He loved the control he had over you. When he heard you mouth his name again, he started slamming into you relentlessly with his fingers. ‘Say it again, say it again, know whose you are,’ he thought to himself. “Hmmm?” He teased. “Fuuuuck Chris,” you cried out to him. This was it. He was going to fucking take you.

• “2… I want you to fucking take it baby... Take it for me. You can do it.” He continued to slam into you, fingers still making light circles on your clit. He had never seen a face in such ecstasy. He brought his face down until his forehead was touching your own. Nose to nose. He looked into your eyes like it was the first time he’d ever seen love. Real love. Real passion. He was sure that this was the first time had seen love. But even more, this was the first time he had ever known love. Love and y/n were synonymous to him now. He was never going to live without you again, not after this moment. He craved you and he needed you. He was going to make sure that he had you for the rest of eternity.

• “You’re mine,” he whispered against your mouth, and then bit down heavy onto your bottom lip, moaning into you. Heavy, like he was going to devour you until there was nothing left. Like you were the most delicious thing he had ever taken a bite of. And he planned to consume all of you, down to the soul. His bites were unrelenting, like he was starving for you this whole time. You couldn’t tell if there was blood. Shit, you couldn’t tell if there was anything even left, but you didn’t care. And he didn’t care. You were his. He suddenly pulled his head away and stared down into you. All of a sudden, you felt known. His fingers went faster on your clit until you couldn’t take it anymore.

• “1. Right fucking now. Let me see my perfect girl come for me.” He raised his voice. He watched you transcend. Jolts of lightning were rushing through your body. You felt all of your limbs twitch and then fall out, lifeless, like your soul really was gone. Chris took it. He took all of you and he was leaving nothing. He continued to pound his fingers into you until you had nothing left. You screamed, you cried, you cursed. You couldn’t stop. Wave after wave, it hit you until you were shaking uncontrollably. You tried to close your legs, to stop the overstimulation, but Chris held them open. He wasn’t leaving until there was nothing left of you. He felt too good and he was too good. You started to sob. You couldn’t hold it back. Tears streamed down as you held out for one last orgasm. “Chris please, Chris PLEASE,” you pleaded, tears coming out. “I- fuck-“ you felt another bolt of tingles shoot down your leg. “I’m almost done. Please… please, last time,” you could barely get your words out.

• It turned Chan on so badly. Seeing how gone you were for him. Seeing how much of yourself you had given to him. His baby. His girl. His immortal soul. Crying to him out of desperation and immeasurable pleasure. He was satisfied. And so with that, he bent down and kissed your forehead, then your tears. “Yes, my love, last time.” He pressed down hard onto your lower abdomen, just enough to give more pressure when he struck his fingers into you at just the right angle. It was absolute perfection, and pure bliss washed over you. One, two, three, four…. five pumps and you’re over.

• He leaned his head back and smiled ear to ear. You had started to convulse uncontrollably, squeezing hard around his fingers. ‘What a view’ he thought, eyes growing larger at the sight of your perfect body giving every last bit to him. You were exhausted. You were worn down. You weren’t even sure you were still in the world. But that was okay to Chan, he knew he now had you tied to his soul forever. It didn’t matter where you thought you were, because now, he would always be with you.

• Coming down from your high, you had tears still coming out of your eyes from the overwhelming emotion of it all. Your mouth was dry, heaving heavily to try and catch your breath. Your mind was trying to collect itself, slowly opening one eye at a time.

• Chan pulled his fingers out slowly, so as to make sure he didn’t hurt you. Once you came to, he gently grabbed behind you and sat you up. He laid your head forward onto his chest so that you could continue to collect yourself, wipe your tears, and get your breathing back to normal. He pulled your head close to his heart. You could hear it beating slow and steady. He then pulled you back ever so slightly and cupped your face. When he saw you with tears still in your eyes, he wiped them away with his thumbs.

• “Oh my sweet baby,” he whispered and brought his forehead to yours. You could see a tear starting to form in his eye. Then another. Then another. Chris was crying.

• “My sweet, sweet girl,” he repeated, whispering and trying to soothe you. He held onto your face even tighter. “You are so perfect for me, you know that? You did so perfect.”

• You nodded your head lightly, tiny tears still forming in your inner eye from looking at your tear-stained boyfriend. “I’m so in love with you, Channie,” you whispered, now cupping his face too. You planted a kiss on his nose. He grinned at your from underneath his eyelashes.

• “I’m so in love with you too.”

• “So, I’m yours now huh?” You laughed, wiping away your own tears.

• “You’re mine,” Chris said, leaning forward now and smiling into the side of your neck. He laid you back down onto your back as gently as he’s picked you up. “And I’m yours,” he said, now towering over top of you.

• He moved his body to rest between your legs. He planted gentle, soft kisses along your entire body. Any place he bit, bruised, or marked was now being pasted over by the whisper of his calm kiss. Starting from your neck, all the way down until he was face to face with the area he had just used to control you. He planted one last, gentle, sweet, loving kiss and raised back up.

• “You’re mine, and I’m yours,” he said, moving his body on top of you, trapping you in a cage of his limbs. He kissed your lips gently, so as not to hurt any bruises he may have given you. To him, you were the most delicate thing in the world. And you were his. He wanted to be fully yours too. He wanted to be etched into your soul, never to be removed. The thought of living this life eternally tied to you made his heart swell. It made his dick swell too. ‘Oh shit’ he thought. He had gotten so caught up in the moment that he wouldn’t dare ask you to do anything for him. But you felt the twitch. You knew better. You were exhausted, and he knew that. But in that moment, you didn’t care. You wanted to complete the perfect night.”

• “Baby?” You looked up at him.

• “Yes love?” He looked at you with all of the love in the world. He would bend over backwards just to hear you speak his name. Whatever question you had, the answer was undoubtedly, unequivocally yes.

• “I gave my all to you. It’s only fair that you give your all to me. I need you to show me how much you love me. Let’s commemorate the night.”

• He sat and stared at you for a long moment. ‘Let’s commemorate the night.’ You were right, he would give everything to you too. And then you would be one. Forever. His girl forever. Her man forever. He felt his soul latch on. You’re his. Venus in Scorpio.

Link: Venus in Scorpio: Part 2 - "The Night He Took You"

#bangchan x y/n #bangchan x female reader #bangchan x you #bangchan x reader #bangchan fluff #bangchan imagines #bangchan smut #skz smut #christopher bang #chris bang #chris bang smut #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #bangchan one shots #bangchan scenarios #bangchan #bang chan #bang chris #bangchan stray kids #bangchan angst #bangchan fanfic

[bluemerakis]

┌──˚*❀*̥˚───˚*̥❀*˚──┐

✐ᝰ bluemerakis

┗━━•❃ ° •° ❀ °• ° ❃•━━┛

❝ white-haired devil ❞

⤷ Word count: 5.6k

!! 18+ ONLY !!

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WARNINGS:

Swearing, smut, power imbalance, mild sexual degradation/sadism, sexual "toy" use, choking, masturbation, fingering, gagging

‼️ DO NOT PROCEED IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH THE ABOVE-MENTIONED WARNINGS ‼️

SYNOPSIS:

You always knew you'd marry one day—not in the way that every little girl dreams of, but because the knowledge of who you'd be marrying had been held over your head like a dark storm cloud since you were little.

When you'd been invited to dine at Malfoy manor with Abraxas and his son—your groom to be—Lucius, the reality became dauntingly real. But you never would have thought you'd find a euphoria of pleasure in your hatred for the white-haired devil himself.

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The entire foundation of our existence is built on one concept: an animalistic hierarchy.

The rich and the powerful are the predators. With their gold, status and excessive self-interest, they hunt the down the poor, the powerless and the insignificant. They close in on them until submission is the only acceptable choice. The magic world is no different. You came to understand that the moment you discovered that you had been betrothed to Lucius—pain-in-your-ass—Malfoy.

Arranged marriages were not uncommon, especially within pure-blooded families that wanted to maintain the importance of their self-forged status.

But this time was different.

Your groom-to-be, Lucius—cunt—Malfoy, is the son of a powerful witch and wizard. Your parents are renowned magic-folk, too, but here's where the circumstances differ: where Malfoy is a pure-blooded wizard, you're only a measly squib. That's right—the laughing stock of the magic world.

If it had been up to you, the Malfoys would have only existed in your nightmares. But you had not had much of a say in the final forge of the matter because you had not even been born yet.

You had only just turned six when you had met Lucius—and god did you hate him. Even at the tender age of eleven, Lucius was the biggest pain in the ass you had ever met. You had never wished a day to go by quicker than that very afternoon. When it was finally time for them to leave, you were more than happy to bid farewell. But everything had gone downhill pretty fast when your father and Abraxas Malfoy had herded you and Lucius into the same room to deliver the horrid news. Lucius had immediately objected and for once you found yourself agreeing with him. But neither father would have it. The deal was long done.

Even now—sixteen years later—you grew glum about the matter at least five times a day. You'd often find yourself mimicking a curse on your father for screwing up your life this way. You did it right in this moment as you watched the back of his head swivel to and fro in his attempt to navigate the winding hallways of Malfoy manor.

He ought to appreciate that I'm a squib, you thought defiantly, else he'd have had tentacles for legs right about now.

You balled your hands into miserable fists. You didn't know if they were trembling with anger, or anxiousness, but you weren't going to have your first impression after all these years be comparable to a sheep on death row.

The Malfoys had extended a dinner invitation as a pre-wedding icebreaker, though you hadn't had much of an appetite to begin with. Your stomach turned each time you heard footsteps clatter toward you, anticipating the appearance of a reserved Abraxas Malfoy. But you were only greeted by hasty house-elves determined to bring the manor to order. Though you didn't doubt the extra skip in their step was the result of a Malfoy threat.

You could just imagine Abraxas—if he was anything like his son—towering over the staff and tossing out all manner of condescending insults, threatening to torment the next elf who left a single fingerprint on the fine, black porcelain rim of his plate.

When your father came to a stop, you were dismayed to find yourself staring up at two double doors that stood way taller than necessary. Though you supposed everything needed to be scaled up in a rich person's world—to accommodate their massive egos, of course.

Your father turned to you. "The dining hall is just through there," he said.

"Are you sure those aren't the doors to hell?" You mumbled miserably and folded your arms.

"Don't be like that," he said gently. "Lucius is a perfectly suitable husband."

"But I'm not a suitable wife."

"And why is that?"

"You know why."

His lips pressed into a speechless line.

You turned your head to the side. "A wizard like him has no business marrying a squib. I'm surprised Abraxas even agreed to it."

"That's Mr. Malfoy to you," your father corrected sternly. But after a moment, his eyes regained their gentle touch once more. He called your name softly, "you are more than your magical status."

Not to the Malfoy family, is what you wanted to reply. But your father had been friends with Abraxas since they were in diapers. You were painfully aware of the bond the two of them shared and so you knew every complaint coming from your lips would fall on your father's deaf ears, leaving you trapped in a looped argument.

"Fine," you yielded.

Your father gave an appreciative simper. "Thank you."

You wanted to remain irritable, to make your displeasure obvious, but your father's smile always managed to bring a giggle to light. He always looked ridiculous when he smiled, so much so that you thought he did it on purpose.

"There's that smile of yours!"

"Stop."

"Come on." He offered the top of his hand, which you reluctantly placed your palm over, and with his other hand he knocked on the door.

Are we suddenly too good for handles, you thought bitterly. You still couldn't believe this was happening. For the longest time, you had hoped all this to be some cruel, drawn-out joke. But as the double doors suddenly creaked open, and you found yourself staring up at white-haired devil himself, the notion quickly dissipated within painful acceptance.

"Lucius!" Your father greeted cheerily. Lucius was dressed in an elegant black suit, his hair pulled back into a neat, low ponytail with his signature cane gripped in one hand.

The icy tundra of his eyes disregarded your presence entirely. "Mr Lee," he responded with a curt dip of his chin. "My father awaits you in his study."

"Ah—yes, of course. I do believe Abraxas has some relics he owes me the pleasure of seeing." He slipped his hand from yours and smiled at Lucius. "Will you take good care of her until dinner is ready?"

"I don't need him to take care of me!" you interjected.

Lucius paid no attention to you. It's as though you were nothing more than particles in the air to him. "Of course," he answered, stepping aside to let your father pass.

"I'll be back, dear," he said. "Stay with Lucius." With that, he hurried away into the next room.

You watched his back disappear into the next room before averting your gaze back to Lucius. "I think it's funny that you've got all these attendants, yet you're the one on door duty," you spoke up.

Lucius' head tilted down, and for the first time he glared directly at you. He lifted his sharp jaw, eyes narrowed disdainfully as his slender fingers moved to strangle the serpent head that crowned his cane.

"You're looking particularly sour today," he sneered.

"And you look sallower than usual," you retorted lightly, unable to deny the satisfaction tugging at the corners of your lips.

All the years you'd spent void of magic, you'd learnt to compensate for in your wit, and boy would you seize every opportunity to get under his skin. You brushed past him as you entered the room and you heard the doors click closed behind you. Lucius scowled and uttered your name bitterly. You hated the way it sounded on his lips.

"You're an embarrassment to the wizarding world," he said coolly. "You will do good to remember that before parting those crude lips of yours."

"Firstly," you started, turning to face him, "you'll be marrying this embarrassment, so please, do grow attuned to calling me your embarrassment," you said cheekily, lacing your hands behind your back. "Secondly, I'm rather fond of my lips. I've always found them quite perky." You lifted your face to his. "Don't you think?"

The white-haired devil sneered before lifting his wand from it's sheathe and chanting, "Petrificus totalus."

In an instant and with a lack of control, your arms flew to your side, and before your legs could emulate the gesture, he propped his leg into the space so that your thighs straddled his knee. You went as stiff as a board, and panic thumped in your chest as you felt yourself leaning back. Just as you thought you'd hit the floor like a sack of meat, Lucius steadied you with a hand on your collarbone and pushed you flat against the polished wood of the door.

You wanted to wince as the door handle protruded into your spine, and Lucius, keenly aware of your discomfort, sought to worsen it as he gradually applied pressure to your chest.

"Not so gabby now, are we?" He rumbled lowly. His face was mere inches from yours. "Here's how this marriage is going to go," he murmured. "We have an appearance to uphold, so I do hope you know how to behave a proper lady in the presence of esteemed guests. Whatever squib-codswallop you indulge yourself in will happen behind closed doors, but whatever time you spend at my side, you will do it my way."

Heat began to pool at the tip of your ears. You hated the nerve of this man, to demand everything the way he wanted it, and in a way that explicitly stated he always got what he wanted. The knee wedged between your thighs began to trace small, slow circles. Occasionally, it would brush against the hem of your underwear. Your breathing deepened at the sensation, and Lucius extracted a faint smirk from the sight of your flaring nostrils.

Footsteps thrummed closer and closer to where the two of you stood, though Lucius didn't seem too concerned at the possibility of being caught in their position. When the footsteps halted, a dainty head popped up from behind the view of Lucius' shoulder.

"The food is ready, Mr Malfoy," the housemaid offered softly, evidently embarrassed at the sight of their tangled bodies. Lucius waved a dismissive hand, too busy glaring you down to spare the maid so much as a glance. She scampered away, and Lucius brought the tip of his wand up to your body.

"I do hope I have made myself very clear," he murmured. You glared at him bitterly. Go fuck yourself. It would have felt better to say it aloud. "Finite," Lucius chanted, and all control flooded back into your limbs.

You slumped against the door and his hand left your chest, but before you could snap at him, he pressed the nose of his wand into your throat. You glared up at him and he returned your attention with nonchalant eyes.

Slowly, he traced the wand up the expanse of your neck, and when he reached your mouth, he said in a low murmur, "I do rather like your lips."

"Lucius," a deep voice echoed throughout the dining hall.

Abaraxas, you thought horridly. You glanced past Lucius to glimpse your father fondling an expensive-looking object between his gloved fingers, and beside him stood Abraxas, watching the two of you with a cool yet dignified expression. They hovered at the doors to the study, and Lucius tucked away his wand rather tensely before leaving you in a hot flurry to meet with his father.

You cleared your throat and tidied the dress that had creased in various areas. The hem had managed to climb your thighs when Lucius had teased you with his own leg—you quickly pulled it proper before pushing yourself off of the doors. Your back throbbed where the handle had been buried only moments before. You cursed him for it. You cursed yourself for it; you hadn't hated it—the helplessness, his rough handling of you. You'd have let him continue had there not been an interruption, you knew that much to be true. Pathetic.

Your father called your name softly. You glanced up to see that he, Lucius and Abraxas had already gathered at the much-too-long dining table, all three had their eyes trained on you expectantly. Tensely, you made your way over to where your father stood, already reaching out a hand to pull out the chair beside his, but he quickly stopped you. You glanced up at him questioningly.

"Wouldn't you rather sit next to Lucius, dear?" He said gently. It was a demand, not an offer.

"I'd rather squat butt-naked over a wildfire," you replied discourteously, your gaze flickering over to Lucius, who looked enigmatic despite your comment.

Abraxas grew a scowl that almost seemed to speak for itself: why had he ever considered letting this ill-mannered squib marry into such a regal family. You couldn't help but smirk lightly, and your father's fingers tightened around your wrist, followed by the stern sound of your name.

"Do not start," he warned. This was the most serious you'd seen your father. It was quite unsettling, actually.

You snatched your hand from his grip and muttered a simple sorry before pulling out your chair. Your father cleared his throat and you glanced up at him once more. With the slightest flick of his head, he beckoned to where Lucius sat. You bit on your tongue and begrudgingly moved the seat back under the table before making your way over to where Lucius sat.

Upon your arrival, he stood from his seat and took the expected liberty of pulling out the chair for you, to which you dipped your chin in the slightest of thanks and sat down. Lucius propped himself down beside you, and his musky fragrance engulfed you in a gust. It was an enticing smell, and somewhere in the mix you could practically taste a hint of whisky.

If you were to be sentenced to his side for a lifetime, at least you knew you were in for drinks in good taste.

The dinner carried out rather uneventfully, and you spent half of that time praying for the hasty end of it. Lucius had gone back to dismissing your presence, he hadn't even spared you so much as a glance. Not that you cared. Because you didn't. Of course you didn't. Once everyone had finished eating, your meal had hardly been touched, yet you seemed the most prepared to take your leave.

Abraxas had stood and beckoned for the house-elves to tidy up the space while he and your father exchanged a few words. You glanced at Lucius, who had been watching the older men, though his attention shifted toward you as he became aware of your gawking.

"I'm bored," you said simply.

"Hardly my concern," he replied blankly.

"I could do with a drink."

"By all means, help yourself to the kitchen."

"I'm thinking stronger," you said with a dramatic finger to your chin, tapping away as though musing the subject. "Your father's sure to have some whisky in that study of his."

Lucius' eyes grew scathingly narrow. "Don't be foolish," he spat. "The only thing my father adores more than his wealth is his whisky. He'd notice if even a drop had left the decanter. And in any case, I hardly think you of all people could properly appreciate the sweet expense of the beverage."

Your composure collapsed fully at his words. Nothing more than a raging ball of impulse, you grabbed at his tie and yanked it harshly so that Lucius was leaned into you. "Come again?"

"I should have you thrown into the dungeons for your unbecomingness," he growled. His face was so close to yours that your lips could've brushed within the next breath.

You frowned cheekily. "I'd like to see just how daring you are, Mr Malfoy—"

"Don't call me that."

"Perhaps the rumours of your audaciousness are true," you continued with a glance at his lips. "And perhaps they are nothing more than rumours."

Your words sparked his interest. His bitter eyes thawed with a momentary look of curiosity, so faint but evidently present. "And just what are you insinuating?" He moved his cane to prop up your chin.

You winced as the steel python burrowed beneath your chin. It felt unpleasantly cold against your skin. A groan rumbled in the back of your throat and sent Lucius' conservativeness toppling over the edge.

"So fragile," he hummed, eyes gliding over your features. He was infatuated with your non-witchy delicacy. It meant you were powerless to him. You knew that. He knew that—and he loved it.

You practically held your breath as you glared up at him. His gaze flickered away from you and simultaneously, his hand moved to pry your fingers from his tie. He stood from his chair and you felt his cold fingers furl around your arm as he hauled you out of yours. You followed his searching eyes and came to realise that your father had disappeared, along with Abraxas. You had no idea where to, but you could hardly be arsed in this moment. Lucius hadn't given you a split second to speak before he began dragging you toward Abraxas' study.

You smirked as you stumbled after him. "Does this mean I'm getting that drink after all?"

Lucius tossed a swift glare over his shoulder, though he remained silent. When they reached the doors to the study, he extended his free hand to knock and waited for a response. When none came, he pushed the doors open and pushed you ahead of him.

You entered with an annoyed click of your tongue, but the rustic theme of the study stole your attention. A polished, deep-red wood—the entire room. One of the walls was lined with shelves topped with questionable collectibles and the room was furnished with red, velvety sofas. It definitely wasn't a taste you'd ever personally acquire, but you'd have to be blind to admit that it didn't hold some sort of charm. Straight ahead of you, an elegant, bricked fireplace was still bustling with a shy flame that burnt the room just the right shade of cosy.

Lucius released your arm and closed the doors behind him. You ventured a little way from his presence.

"Who knew Lucius had it in him to enter his daddy's study without permission?" You teased absentmindedly as you reached the fireplace and spotted a crystal decanter of whiskey. "Bingo," you murmured, picking it up.

"Put that down." A hand grabbed ahold of your wrist and yanked it roughly, causing you to drop the crystal container.

The whiskey toppled into the fireplace with a sickening slosh, and at the moment of contact, the fireplace burst into a hissing, spitting tornado. You narrowly avoided being nipped by the heat as Lucius pulled you toward him, though your dress was not as lucky. The fabric had caught aflame below your backside, but Lucius was quicker in acting. His hand snaked around your back and tugged at the zip. The straps of your dress fell past your shoulders and he slipped it down the curves of your body until it laid at your black heels and released grey squiggles of smoke.

You glared up at him. "Hey, asshole!" You spat, shoving at his chest. "I liked that dress—a lot!”

Lucius cocked an eyebrow at you and pressed the tip of his cane into your cleavage. Your breath caught in your throat like a lump of dry food. He said your name softly. You liked the way it sounded on his tongue.

"You've made a mess," he said, eyes observing the spill of alcohol that mottled the polished floor before glancing at you. He gradually began to press harder and harder into your skin until you had no choice but to back up to relieve the pain.

"Since when don't you like taking credit?" You shot back sarcastically. A dull coldness hit your back as you bumped into the fireplace, though Lucius continued closing in on the space between your bodies.

He said nothing, only glared at you with annoyingly incoherent eyes. You grew flustered now, grasping the situation. You were half naked and cornered by a wizard, and you had no magical means of defending yourself. You felt the heat of the fireplace begin to lap at your exposed skin. Your jaw clenched, and Lucius' gaze trailed down your neck attentively.

"The fire bothering you?" He asked lowly. You scowled. "Am I mistaken? Had you not mentioned earlier that you'd be more than happy to squat butt-naked over an open flame?"

"You're hilarious," you retorted before moving to shove him away, but his free hand moved to clutch your neck.

His other hand dragged the cane downward, slowly—first over the clasp of your bra, then across the soft skin of your stomach, before stopping short of your now-heated core. The fireplace couldn't take credit for that. You were completely and utterly overwhelmed now. Every sensation had become too much.

Lucius' grip on your neck tightened until your ability to breathe was at his mercy. With painfully exaggerated slowness, he brought his lips to your ear. "I must confess that the mere thought of ravishing a squib is unusually. . . exciting," he said in a gruff whisper.

You felt your expression twist at his words, and much to his satisfaction, too. He leaned away from you, his slender fingers leaving the flushed rim of your neck. His eyes swept over your posture, seemingly pleased with the way you had fallen tense under his control. Power. That's all it was about with him. He bathed in the power that came with any opportunity to completely and utterly dominate the lesser. You saw it in the way every action that earned compliance on the receiving end caused his lips to tug into a smirk. You saw it now as he glared at you.

Lucius' attention moved down to his cane. Slowly, he angled it into your skin and slid it under the waistband of your underwear. You sucked air at the cool sensation of the serpent head gliding down your skin and slipping between your wet folds.

"Lucius," you breathed through gritted teeth.

"Hm?" He hummed busily, his attention fixed on his cane that was now angled toward your entrance. He glanced up at you momentarily. "If you'd like me to stop, simply say so." He paused his movements and gazed at you impassively.

You glared at him in silence for many moments, only bouts of air whistled from your nostrils. Your breathing had grown shallow and quick at his touch. "I hate you," you said softly.

Lucius's lips stretched into a faint smirk before he roughly pressed his lips to yours. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his shoulders to steady yourself, moving one hand to mercilessly tug at his ponytail until it came undone in messy strands. He grunted against your lips and pulled the serpent head from between your folds. You hissed at his lack of caution. He lifted you into his arms and moved to his father's desk, where he set you down onto the fine wood—unpleasantly cold against your exposed skin. He leaned in and curled his fingers around the back of your neck to bring you into another series of rough kisses.

Your hands explored every inch of Lucius's suit. When you felt the hems of his black blazer, you lifted it up and over his shoulders, to which he aided the removal by rolling his shoulders back so that the blazer would fall to the floor. His tongue explored your insides roughly, you savoured the way he tasted. He still possessed a tint of red wine from earlier's dinner.

Lucius broke off the kiss rather suddenly, and you found yourself devastatingly disappointed at the abundance of space between your lips. You leaned back onto your palms, watching as he took a step back and lifted his cane.

"Do you ever not have that thing in clutch?" You asked pointedly.

"Be quiet," he demanded, reaching for your arm and yanking you from the desk. Before you had a moment to protest, he spun you around and bent you over the expanse of the table. Your entire backside was exposed to him, and you felt your face burn self-consciously.

"What are you doing?" You asked angrily, attempting to prop yourself upward, but Lucius held you down with a steady hand on the small of your back. You frowned. "If you think I'm going to let you fuck me like a common whore, you're wrong!" You felt the fabric of Lucius's shirt brush your back tenderly as he leaned over you and brought his lips to your ear.

"Whores don't usually talk this much," he said lowly before bringing his free hand toward your lips. "Spit," he demanded.

"I'm not spitting on your hand, Lucius," you objected. "You've got some weird kinks, you know—" you were cut off as Lucius pried your lips harshly with his middle and index finger.

You felt him push for the back of your throat, and even as you tried to yank your head away as a protest, he kept on reaching for your depths until you gagged around him. He removed his hand, and past your teary lashes, you saw his slender fingers painted in a slimy sheen.

Your back felt cold once more as Lucius straightened up. You felt the tip of his cane scrape your lower back as he hooked it onto your underwear and pulled it down your thighs, exposing your wet core to him. The fingers, coated in your saliva, traced a line down your back until it reached your arse and traced gentle circles around the entrance. A moan escaped your lips as he inserted a finger inside without the courtesy of a warning, and it was quickly followed by another.

You clenched around him at the unfamiliar, slightly painful sensation, but as Lucius proceeded to tease your folds once more with the serpent-crowned head of his cane, you began to melt into his rough fondling. It wasn't long until you felt beads of your arousal escape your main entrance and slither down the insides of your soft thighs.

Lucius noted this image, glorified it, even. "If this is what hate looks likes, I'd love to see what else your cunt would do for me once we're better acquainted," he commented in a low and sultry tone.

You laid with your cheek pressed against the table, your lips slightly parted and your eyes screwed shut at the feelings of ecstasy that now coursed through your veins, brought on at the sites where Lucius teased steadily. You were too far gone to retaliate as you usually did—no one had ever touched you this way. It felt like pure bliss, and now you didn't ever want to leave this manor.

A deep chuckle rumbled from Lucius. "Your asshole is tightening around me. Tell me, did you want something else from me?" He jeered. When you didn't answer him, he paused the movements of his cane and removed his hand from your hole. "Then I suppose we're finished here," he said, passing his wet fingers over the soft skin of your ass.

"No," you complained softly. Disgracefully. You didn't want this to be the end of it. You pushed yourself upwards, your underwear falling further down your legs until it lay a wet bundle at your feet. You turned to face him, your expression hardened. "You don't get to tease me like that and then leave."

Lucius tilted his head mockingly. "But a whore is merely a toy. It is hardly their place to complain when their master has finished playing, hm?"

You perked your chin defiantly. "I'm not a whore," you said scathingly.

Lucius took a step forward, his clothed leg pressed between your legs and forcing you back against the desk. "Then why do you leak like one?" He said softly, his eyes fixated on yours. You glanced down to see the dark fabric of his pants had grown even darker with your arousal. When you glanced back up at him, his eyes seemed to glint hungrily, and a satisfied smirk widened his lips.

He pressed a hungry kiss onto your lips, and you returned it without hesitation. He removed the knee straddled between your thighs and replaced it with his cane, which he slid against your clitoris and through your folds before pushing it inside of you. You gasped against his lips and swung your head back as you felt the steel teeth of the python lightly graze your insides.

"Lucius!" You said in barely more than a breathy moan. It hurt to have the item inside of you, but when he began thrusting it to and fro with slow, rhythmic motions, coupled with the wet kisses he littered upon your neck, it began to feel disgustingly right.

You fastened your hands around his neck for support, and he carefully hauled you onto the desk. His free hand made its way into your hair, and he tugged it harshly so that your neck was perfectly arched for him to exploit with aggressive love-bites. You felt the pit of your stomach grow tight in an embarrassingly short amount of time, and Lucius seemed to deduce this as well from your heightened breathing, so he pulled the cane from your entrance.

He tutted disappointedly. "I've barely had my fun," he said. "Don't finish until I say so." You lifted your head to him tiredly, barely able to discern his face. "Am I understood?" He prompted, his grip on your head tightening as he shook you lightly. You nodded, and he inserted his cane once more. Oh, Godric, you didn't want this to end.

It felt like hours had passed by as Lucius teased you with his painfully slow thrusts. He spent most of the time gazing at your face, gauging your every reaction at his movements, savouring the little mewls of pleasure you let slip every now and then. Encouraged by the sweet music you made just for him, he gave you permission to finish.

When he had finished having his way with you, he removed the cane from between your thighs, pulling with it a stream of your arousal. You felt the warm wetness pool around your bottom and leak into every crevice left between parts of your body in contact with the surface of the desk.

His eyes moved between your exposed lower half and your face. He lifted the cane to your lips. "Clean it," he demanded impassively.

You gave a chuckle. "Funny," you responded and pushed his hand back, shifting your weight to get up, but Lucius sat you down with a rough hand. You glanced at him in alarm. "You're serious?"

"Very."

You searched his eyes, waiting to find a glimmer of amusement, but anything he felt at this moment was incoherent to you. "I'm not doing that," you objected.

Lucius didn't seemed pleased with your answer. His hand moved down your body rather quickly. He moved between your thighs and inserted a harsh finger, which earned a shocked gasp from you. He seized that opportunity to slide the serpent head into your mouth.

"The decision is not up to you," he paused and wriggled the cane between your lips. "Wider." You shook your head and in response, he added every finger until his hand was fully submerged within you.

Tears brimmed in your eyes. The sensation was painfully pleasurable. There was no fine line between the two, you only knew that his touch was undeniably desirable. Obediently, you swirled your tongue over every intricate groove of the serpent head. The taste was unusual, but not unpleasant. You glared him down as you sucked on the cane suggestively, though Lucius' composure didn't seem to falter.

Once no slimy coating remained, you patted his arm and he removed the cane from your mouth, along with his hand from your entrance. You were mildly ashamed to see the sheathe of your pleasure around his slender fingers, but Lucius seemed satisfied in contrast.

"Proud of yourself?" You muttered.

Lucius leaned past you and when he withdrew, you saw a fancy handkerchief in clutch. He first wiped his hand before passing the fabric over his cane.

"Generally, yes," he replied busily. He tossed the handkerchief onto your lap and leaned past you once more to pull out one of the draws. "Watch your tone," he said before lifting a bottle of whiskey to his lips and taking a gulp.

"Excuse me—" Lucius silenced you by pressing the nozzle of the bottle between your lips, and he began tilting the bottle upwards so that you had no choice but to gulp down the drink.

His slender fingers reached for your bra, which he violently tugged on until the fabric surrendered and tore at the clasps. The bra fell from your shoulders and left you fully exposed. He moved the bottle away from your lips and began pouring it between your cleavage, over your breasts and into your lap.

"What the fuck, Lucius!" You snapped.

"Language," he warned, setting the bottle aside and planting a kiss on your exposed collar bone. He turned for the door and paused with a hand on the handle. "Oh, and you best make yourself presentable," he said, pointedly glancing you up and down. "I do believe I heard the chatter of my father and Mr Lee beyond the study. Wouldn't want either of them to find you this way, no?"

You face went cold with horror. You fucking bastard!

"Tidy up the office while you're at it, won't you, whore? And make sure to lap up every last drop of that whiskey. It's rather expensive." You saw a hint of a smirk wind his perfect lips before he exited the study.

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[acey-wacey]

Heyo Meyo, I really liked your first year "meeting their future children" headcannons!

If its okay, may i request the same for Jade, Floyd and Ruggie?

I hope its okay? Nonetheless take your time, have a great day/night🤗

Hi hi! I'm so glad people like the future children series because I already have all the names planned out in my notes app >:)

...

🍄 Jade Leech 🍄

Now it's common knowledge that Jade Leech is not very easily startled.

But being ambushed by some toddler as soon as he left his room will definitely do it.

The little boy latched onto Jade's leg and started gnawing on his dress pants.

When he tried to pick the boy up, he just scurried up Jade's back, latching onto his shoulders like some kind of deranged monkey.

The boy managed to steal his hat and giggle like a maniac before you came running down the hall with two more children in tow: a little girl with her hands clasped curtly in front of her, not much older than the boy Jade has already met, and a baby that was fast asleep in your arms.

"Bruno, get off of your father."

You shot a look at the boy who was know chewing on Jade's hat.

He looked down in shame and crawled back down Jade's leg.

Through all of this, the normal-composed eel was quite confused.

It was an interesting and amusing sensation for him to be in the dark as he was usually privy to most of the happenings at Night Raven.

"His father?" Jade raised an eyebrow.

You sighed as the boy skittered over to you and wrapped his arm around your leg.

"I don't really know how to say this without sounding insane, but I guess this is nothing compared to what you're used to."

You gestured to the little girl who smiled in a sly way that reminded you of a certain eel.

"This is Veronica," you then gestured to the manic little boy who grinned and showed off his pointy teeth. "This is Bruno," then you nodded toward the baby. "And this is Damian."

"Whatever is insane about that?" Jade mused, stroking his chin as he assessed the situation.

"They're our children."

The only indication that Jade was at all surprised was the momentary widening of his eyes.

"Ah, yes. They must be from the future. Magical accidents like this happen all the time."

You felt heat rise to your face at how nonchalantly he mentioned your future children.

"But... They're our children. Is that not surprising to you? That we have children together in the future?"

Jade just smirked at you and moved forward to pat Bruno's head. The little boy chomped down on his finger but sheepishly retreated when Jade raised an eyebrow at him.

"Of course I'm not surprised. I'm aware of our mutual interest in each other and it's only a natural progression to get married and have a family."

Once the kids return to their timeline, you and Jade are apparently dating.

He never actually asked you out, but he had been observing your mannerisms and how you reacted around him, so he knew you wouldn't say no if he did.

...

🦐 Floyd Leech 🦐

You were sleeping in your bed at Ramshackle, peacefully dreaming of a world were Crowley payed his child support, when you were rudely awakened by a violent shaking.

You opened your eyes to see Floyd, hovering over you with a maniacal grin.

Oddly enough, you weren't even startled.

It's a common enough occurrence to wake up in the middle of the night in congruence with Floyd's whims.

"Hey."

You yawned, knowing there was no point in struggling once Floyd had you pinned down.

Your tired expression only changed to confusion once two other faces with grins matching Floyd's popped into your view.

"We have babies, shrimpy."

The two others were little girls, around 7 or 8.

They had the same sharp, toothy grin as Floyd and both sported teal hair, though one wore it in pigtails and one had it cut into a pixie.

"We have babies," you repeated, hoping Floyd would elaborate.

"In the future," he continued, radiating excited energy. It was far too early in the morning for you to be matching his manic vibes so you just nodded sleepily and smiled at the two girls.

"This is Giulia and Lilith," he pointed at the girl with pigtails then at the pixie cut girl. "They're our babies."

"We're not babies, daddy!" Lilith pouted at Floyd, making him soften just a little.

"They're our not babies," he smiled proudly at you. Both girls looked at you with the same expectant expression.

You groaned and rolled over in bed, capturing the two girls in your arms as you went.

"I'm much too tired and you're much too cute, so as confused as I am, it will have to wait until morning. Till then, we can snuggle."

"Snuggle!"

All three of them exclaimed, much too loudly for the ungodly hour.

You were simultaneously pounced on by three bodies, though Floyd did much more damage to your lungs than the lighter girls.

You snuggled into Floyd and kept an arm on each girl.

"Good night, Giulia and Lilith. I'm sure I'll meet you correctly one day."

...

🍩 Ruggie Bucchi 🍩

You hadn't even noticed much had changed until you payed a visit to Savanaclaw to see your boyfriend, Ruggie.

He was carrying on with his usual duties, only there was a 7-year-old girl perched on his hip as he did laundry.

"Need any help with that?"

He turned around to face you with a clothespin stuck in his mouth.

"No fanks," he mumbled through his teeth.

"This a relative or are you just babysitting?" You gestured to the little girl who was sucking on her thumb and inspecting you carefully. She was a bit on the chubbier side and had bright, curious eyes that matched the color you saw in the mirror.

You assumed she was Ruggie's sister or cousin or niece because she shared the same splotchy ears that twitched with every subtle noise.

"She's my daughter actually."

You were physically taken aback by the confession.

Once he initial shock wore off, you laughed and brushed it off.

"Very funny. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

Ruggie finished pinning up one of his shirts before turning to you with an expression of unexpected seriousness.

"I am being dead serious right now, Y/N. This is my daughter, Iris."

"You're only 17, Ruggie. She looks at least 6 and as far as I know, you were not a baby daddy as a pre-teen."

"She's from the future." He admitted, being genuine although a teasing smirk grew on his face.

"From the future...?" you hesitantly clarified, eying the child as she took her thumb out of her mouth to reach for you.

"Momma, can you hold me? Dadda keeps moving around," she whined, grabbing for you and nearly falling out of Ruggie's grasp.

You rushed to catch her and set her to rest on your hip, bouncing slightly.

It didn't escape you how she called you Momma and you also noticed how her skin color and hair texture were a blend of yours and Ruggie's, the course fur on her ears peeking out from under her hair.

"Is she ours?"

Ruggie didn't reply but just nodded, while he continued pinning up clothes.

"She's darling."

Ruggie hummed in agreement and satisfaction.

"Reminds me of someone else I know."

He bent backwards to face you upside down and puckered his lips dramatically.

You chuckled and leaned down to press a kiss to his lips before he resumed his chores in lieu of his previous contortions.

You smacked several kisses onto Iris's cheeks and temple, though she pouted and wiped her cheek both her sleeve.

You laughed at how cute she was and continued bouncing her as she laid her head on your shoulder and closed her eyes, tuckered out from watching Ruggie work.

"Sweet dreams, future princess."

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #disneytw #jade leech #jade leech x reader #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #ruggie bucchi #ruggie bucchi x reader

[2996-sana]

lost in japan

loosely based on lost in japan by shawn mendes :D

being a soloist in the industry is a bit like riding a rollercoaster of emotions. while it brings creative freedom and a chance to shape your own journey, it comes with its share of loneliness. unlike being in a group, where you share every step of the journey, as a soloist, you navigate the entire process – from making albums, promotions, gigs, to tours and interviews – all by yourself. sure, you have your crew and team, your chosen family, but seeing groups together makes you a bit envious. they get to share the highs and lows, the crazy moments, and the struggles. it's a camaraderie you sometimes wanted.

but being a soloist has its perks. you get to pour your soul into your music, writing and producing most of your songs. music isn't just a job; it's a deeply personal expression. every note and lyric carries a piece of your story, every emotion, and experience that left a mark on your heart.

and then there's the subject of love.

in the vast expanse of the industry, finding love can be a challenge. all eyes are on you, not just in korea but globally, and being an idol only adds to the scrutiny. but that hasn't stopped idols from dating, and who can blame them? when love comes knocking, it's hard to resist.

for you, love arrived unexpectedly in the form of a blind date, set up by mutual connections. specifically, yeri from red velvet, who passed down the idea to nayeon from twice. and believe it or not, love turned out to be a member of the renowned girl group twice.

love felt like magic, and at this moment, love happened to be right beside you on the couch in the recording studio.

"baby, i'm gonna miss you like crazy," sana pouted.

"i know, baby, but it's only gonna be a few weeks, right?" you ask, trying to offer comfort.

"three weeks, yeah, but i hate being away from you," she replies, eyes still a bit teary.

turning to your girlfriend, you put down your guitar and scoot closer to sana. "i understand, baby. if i didn't have schedules lined up for the next few weeks, i'd come with you guys," you say, your voice carrying a tinge of sadness.

sana sighed in defeat and planted a playful kiss on your cheek. "you should write a song about me while i'm away," she teased.

you rolled your eyes. "they're all about you, i don't know what you're on about."

sana giggled, fully aware that it was true. despite this knowledge, hearing every new song you wrote about her never got old and it never failed to make her swoon. your love story held a special place in both your hearts, and having it immortalized in your music felt special. especially since the general public remained oblivious to the fact that the songs were about her or your relationship. it was like a secret world that only the two of you shared, untouched, and safe from the prying eyes of the public.

as much as sana wanted to shout about your love from the rooftops, she found solace in the fact that you both hadn't given anybody the power to take what you had away. having your close circle and family know felt like enough for now.

"i adore you so much, baby. i feel incredibly lucky," sana confessed, locking eyes with you.

"i love you, baby. we're both really lucky," you replied. "are you excited to be home and visit family?"

sana's eyes lit up. "yes! mom and dad wanted to see you, though. but yeah, it's been a while, so i'm excited."

the joy on her face brought warmth to your heart. "i'm excited for you, baby. send me lots of pictures, okay? and don't worry, i'll give you a call when you're together with your parents."

that night, you had to take sana and the rest of twice to the airport. well, technically, you were in the same car they were dropped off in, but you couldn't get off due to the swarm of reporters and fansites. now, that would be a headline.

you gave sana one last kiss and waved goodbye to tzuyu, dahyun, mina, and jihyo, who were sharing the same car.

"be safe, you guys," you said.

"we'll miss you, unnie!" tzuyu exclaimed, and the rest of the girls echoed her sentiment.

"i'll miss you the most, though," sana said sadly.

you reached for her hand and gave it a soft kiss. "i'll see you real soon, baby."

"y/n, you better pay me extra to keep sana from talking everyone's ears off about missing you this whole trip," jihyo joked, earning laughs from the group.

"bank transfer?" you suggested playfully.

"yah!" sana feigned annoyance.

"alright, alright, you guys go. the rest of the girls are already outside."

as the car door closed, you sighed. a busy week awaited you with recording sessions, and on top of that, you didn't have a girlfriend to come home to for the next few weeks. *+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

a week drifted by, and there you were, sprawled out on the cushy couch in a hotel in taiwan, peering through the grand glass windows that framed the city's glowing lights. the sun descended gracefully, painting the sky with warm hues. you wished sana was there with you. memories flooded in — of quiet evenings cocooned on the couch, watching anime after demanding days, and lively moments in the kitchen, dancing and singing together.

"it's cool. just two more weeks," you mumbled.

suddenly, a soft buzz broke the silence.

m.by__sana tagged you in a post

you tapped the notification, revealing snapshots from a dinner a week past, capturing the comically overcooked steak you had made.

당신은 여전히 최고입니다, 셰프님! ♡´ (you're still the best, chef! ♡´)

a gentle chuckle escaped you.

당신은 미친 듯이 나를 그리워하고 있을 것입니다, you playfully commented. (you must be missing me like crazy)

almost instantly, you got a reply.

당신은 모르고 있어요 (you have no idea)

you released a resigned sigh, well-acquainted with the sacrifices that came with being idols. both of you knew the drill — the inevitable stretches of separation that, despite understanding, never got easier.

you knew sana was currently holed up in her hotel with the other girls, having just gotten off a facetime call with her. it didn't make the distance any more bearable, and resisting the urge to fly over and be with her required more self-control than you cared to admit.

wait…

with a swift move, you grabbed your phone and opened up the voice memo app. "na na na na, do you got plans tonight, baby? something something, lost in your paradise. the only thing i’m thinking ‘bout is you and i, i can’t get you off my mind," you sang, a mix of determination and confusion in your voice as you attempted to untangle the tune in your head. recording the snippets, you couldn't help but hope that this spontaneous burst could turn into something.

as a musician and songwriter, you know that when inspiration hits - seize it and craft it into art. luckily for you, sana was the kind of girl who could fuel a billion songs, and the thought of writing about her never got old.

fueled by the sudden inspiration, you reached for your guitar.

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

"sana, you okay?" mina inquired, concern etching her features as she observed sana lost in thought, brows furrowed.

"she's fine. just being dramatic because y/n hasn't replied," nayeon chuckled, finding the situation amusing.

"you don't get it; she never takes this long to reply, even when we're both busy," sana whined, her frustration evident.

"unnie, isn't she in the middle of preparing for a comeback?" chaeyoung suggested. "maybe she's stuck in a meeting or recording something."

despite chaeyoung's rationality, sana's irritation persisted. she wasn't worried; she was just plain mad that you weren't responding.

the day dragged on with your replies limited to one-word responses, fueling sana's growing annoyance.

"who does she think she is?" sana slammed the door of her and momo's hotel room. "she didn't even pick up when i called her at my parents' house, and she specifically told me to!"

momo racked her brain, knowing sana's penchant for needing attention. she silently cursed you for leaving her with a moody sana.

"sana, it's okay. she'll eventually reply. i'm sure she has her reasons," momo sighed, offering a reassuring smile.

sana, across the room, sprinted to momo, shoving her phone in her friend's face. "what is this, then?"

momo squinted at your instagram story, revealing a tiktok of you and jennie doing a dance. momo silently cursed you again.

"uhh, scheduled post? maybe it's a new challenge," momo suggested, attempting to ease the tension.

sana rolled her eyes and threw her phone on the bed. "i don't care anymore."

"we can go out tonight, satang!" momo encouraged. "you'll get your mind off y/n."

sana shook her head defiantly. "i'm not going out! i'm staying in."

"nope, you can't," momo declared, standing up and joining sana. "you promised, remember?"

sana groaned. "fine, whatever, but i won't like it." *+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

sana and the group entered mina's cousin's newly opened restaurant, exclusively reserved for the night. despite the collective effort to lighten sana's mood, she remained unusually gloomy, a stark contrast to her typically bubbly self.

"sana, you look ugly when you’re frowning," jeongyeon teased, eliciting laughter from the group. sana responded by sticking her tongue out playfully. just as sana was about to retaliate, their food arrived, and the delightful aroma of the ramen momentarily diverted her attention. she was clearly hungry.

the dinner unfolded with vibrant conversations about their promotions, and even sana couldn't resist breaking into a smile and sharing a few laughs. after finishing her ramen, sana reached for a napkin on the table and discovered something tucked underneath — a small note?

do you have plans tonight?

suddenly, the lights dimmed, causing gasps from everyone. a soft strumming of a guitar filled the air.

"all it'd take is one flight,

we'd be in the same time zone."

sana could recognize that voice anywhere. her eyes shifted across the room, finding her girlfriend perched on a high stool with a guitar, singing just for her. sana could barely wrap her head around what was happening. she glanced at the girls, who were all smiling with their phones up.

as you sang, it dawned on sana what the song meant. her eyes widened as she listened.

“do you got plans tonight?

i'm a couple hundred miles from japan, and i

i was thinkin' i could fly to your hotel tonight

'cause i can't get you off my mind.”

you smiled and threw her a wink. sana couldn't help but cover her blushing face with her hands.

“do you got plans tonight, baby?

i was hopin' i could get lost in your paradise (paradise)

the only thing i'm thinkin' 'bout is you and i,

and i can't get you off my mind.”

sana should've probably known you were up to something. you wouldn't have left her hanging like that. but who would've thought you were crazy enough to leave in the middle of your schedules and fly to japan for her?

“let's get lost tonight,

let's get lost tonight,

baby, you and,

i can't seem to get you off my mind.”

the guitar strumming gradually faded, and the girls were howling and clapping. you walked toward sana with a single flower in your hand, wearing a big grin.

"hi," you said, still grinning.

sana got up, playfully shoving you before throwing her arms around you. "you are crazy!"

"crazy in love, apparently," dahyun giggled.

"are you complaining, though?" you laughed, ruffling her hair. then, you whispered in her ear, "if love doesn't make you do crazy things, then are you really doing it right?" *+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

"lost in japan is trending," sana giggled from the couch.

you joined her, tossing a blanket over both of you. "you think they're putting two and two together?" you laughed.

sana laughed, sharing a message from a fan on the bubble app.

"that new song from y/n is definitely about you and i'm taking no arguments."

#twice x reader #minatozaki sana x reader #sana x reader #minatozaki sana #twice sana

[jkabbi]

bewitched | 01

╰┈➤summary: Former neighbors turned lovers, your enchanting romance with Jungkook takes a magical turn. A spell to protect him shapes your past, and now, as a flower shop owner, an unexpected reunion brings buried secrets to light. Past and present collide in a captivating tale of love and mystery.

╰┈➤pairing: jungkook x reader (f)

╰┈➤genre: cf2l, fluff, angst, magic au

╰┈➤warnings: just cursing and salem being a menance. also, jungkook hot ass back

word count. 8.4k

╰┈➤note; hi! this is my first fanfic and i was very nervous about publishing it. i had this idea for a while and i need it to share it. the fic has some touches of my favorite series (sabrina the teenage witch) but the plot is different and the characters (apart from salem).

alsoo, english isn’t my first language so writing this was a challenge but i hope its okay ;)

and thats all, i really wish u enjoy it and please be nice, this is my first time and im scared😭😭

next.

series masterlist

You consistently gravitated towards a wardrobe painted in familiar tones and patterns – greens, browns, blues, and yellows – with a penchant for clothing adorned by botanical or floral designs.

Yoongi used to make fun of you for it, although there was never a day that he didn't tell you that you looked good.

It was difficult to explain but your affinity for the colors could only be explained by your abilities.

Since you were little, you used to spend days in the sun in the grass, surrounded by trees and grasslands.

You loved playing with the butterflies that flew around or watching the birds that sang and flew freely. You used to talk to the fish that swam through the rivers or to the rabbits who hid in their burrows.

Your obsession with plants also did not diminish with the passage of time; Always worried that the flowers in your aunt's garden were well cared for—including the plants of other neighbors around—you used to water them, sing to them, and prune them.

Surely that obsession guided you to own your own flower shop.

You also used to have great pride in having so much knowledge of them, especially when you were a little girl, since you used to help the ladies in your neighborhood with their plants, giving them advice and tips to take care of them.

Especially one, who was your neighbor next door.

Mrs. Jeon was a pleasant woman, with pretty features and very affectionate towards you.

She was a housewife and had two children; Junghyung and Jungkook. Although you didn't interact much with them.

You still remembered the day the Jeons moved into the house next door.

It was summer and you were returning from your adventures in the forest near the neighborhood, where you talked to the small animals and encouraged green life to grow.

When you turned onto your street, you could see a large moving truck in the house next to yours. Curious, you arrived at your front yard and watched as the movers walked in and out of the house with furniture and boxes.

Before you could watch a family get out of a family car, your aunt Binna called you from the entrance to go take a shower for lunch.

Reluctantly, you left, not before taking a look back.

Years later and you still have the same feeling of warmth that you received every time you remembered the past.

“Why are you smiling at the shovel?”

That's where your memory lane ends. Behind you was Yoongi, who had a small philodendron in his arms.

“Why couldn't I smile at the shovel?” you retorted, leaving the shovel on the counter and sitting up.

Yoongi chuckled, shrugging casually. “I've always known you have a few screws loose. Feel free to continue charming the shovel.”

Mirroring his smile, you quipped, “Thanks for the endorsement, my esteemed companion. You'll be the honored guest at our shovel-themed wedding.”

Setting the plant by the large window, Yoongi fetched his water sprayer from his apron pocket. “I feel truly appreciated,” he replied, misting the green leaves.

From the spacious wooden counter, you opened your laptop, checking the latest email – an order for an outdoor wedding floral arrangement.

“We've got another order,” you informed from your seat.

“For what occasion?” Yoongi abandoned the sprayer, approaching curiously.

“A wedding,” you replied, studying the details.

“Another one?” Your friend leaned beside you.

You shifted for him to read the screen. “At least they're giving us four months," you nodded.

“And the payment is good,” you added. “Our end-of-year getaway might happen after all.”

Yoongi smiled beside you as you bounced with excitement. It might not be a lavish affair, but you cherished the yearly trip with Yoongi and his partner to a quiet seaside town.

A serene ambiance enveloped the place, with only a handful of individuals, and in winter, it turned into a magical haven.

(It was also a place full of magic, but that was a detail that you left hidden)

“Well, in any case, we should celebrate,” Yoongi stood up, heading towards the door to switch the sign from open to closed.

You stretched in your seat and agreed. “What's on the agenda for today? I was thinking of bringing some cakes from Jimin's favorite bakery for our movie night.”

“Oh, about that..." Yoongi hesitated, “Jimin texted me. He's inviting a friend from his college days to join us tonight. Is that okay? I mean, I know you're not a fan of meeting new people, and if you prefer, I can suggest postponing the gathering to tomorrow.”

Taking the broom, you looked at Yoongi affectionately. “It's fine, Yoongs. If he's Jimin's friend, I'm sure I'll get along with him.”

Worry etched Yoongi's expression. “Are you sure? I mean, in the hierarchy of friendships, you come first. Jimin could easily rearrange his plans for us tonight and meet his friend tomorrow.”

Giggling, you enjoyed seeing how much Yoongi cared. “Don't worry. I'm a big girl. I can handle Jimin's college buddies.”

Yoongi smiled in relief. “Alright, but do let me know if you feel uncomfortable or anything.”

“Okey dokey,”you said, raising your palm.

“Okey dokey,” Yoongi replied, giving you a high-five.

The relentless July sun bore down on your head.

Frustrated by the forgotten hat at home, you silently headed to the bakery.

After buying Jimin's favorite cakes —a mixture capable of putting you in a diabetic coma—you headed towards your friends' apartment, which was a few blocks away.

Your friends' neighborhood was your favorite place to visit.

It was a residential area, which was always in perfect condition.

Grand and expansive, the houses stood adorned with enchanting gardens—a sight that never failed to captivate you. Each residence was meticulously maintained, but it was a particular house that unfailingly left you in awe. A colonial masterpiece, it boasted a white facade adorned with vibrant red tiles. Cascading vines adorned the balcony, reaching down to the floor in a display of elegance. What truly set it apart was the magnificent garden, a vibrant canvas of fiery-hued flowers and exquisite sculptures. It spoke volumes about the refined taste of the person fortunate enough to call it home.

Having successfully banished any lingering awe, you reached the enchanting street where your friends resided. Courtesies exchanged with the concierge, you gracefully entered the awaiting elevator, confidently selecting the sixth floor with a soft chime resonating in the enclosed space.

Underneath your composed exterior, a subtle current of nervous anticipation flowed.

It wasn't a matter of feeling overwhelmed by strangers; rather, your unease stemmed from a lack of familiarity with personal social interactions, even though you navigated such dynamics daily in your professional life.

Your inclination leaned toward maintaining a small, close-knit circle of friends, an approach that steered you away from embracing new connections. However, the person you were about to encounter wasn't just a mere stranger but an integral figure in Jimin's life. You were steadfast in your resolve not to burden Jimin with the dilemma of choosing between friends, an ardent desire to avoid becoming a source of disappointment.

Driven by the profound aversion to letting down your friends, you made a conscious decision to present a facade of normalcy for the impending meeting. It was a commitment to navigate through the evening with an air of ease, recognizing that, in the grand tapestry of life, this was merely a single night – a challenge that, with resilience, you believed you could gracefully overcome.

As you reached the designated floor, you traversed the pristine, white hallway, and with a gentle knock, you announced your arrival at the penultimate door. After a brief pause, the door swung open, revealing Jimin's golden locks.

“____!” he exclaimed, “I'm thrilled you could make it!”

A wide smile graced your face. “It's wonderful to see you too. I brought some pastries.”

Jimin reciprocated the smile. “If I weren't gay, I'd definitely kiss you!”

Amused, you laughed and stepped into their apartment. The ambiance of Jimin and Yoongi's residence exuded a youthful yet elegant charm, reflecting both your best friend's personality and that of his partner.

“Come on, Yoongi is busy preparing some meat on the balcony,” the blonde guided you.

“Ah, you've made it,” Yoongi greeted. “I thought you'd be melting in this heat.”

You snorted, “Don't even mention it. I absorbed the last rays of the day's sun on my way here.”

“I offered to pick you up by car,” Yoongi scolded, brandishing his grill knife.

You playfully dismissed him with a wave of your hand. “I know, I know. But I didn't want to distract you, and besides, I enjoy the walk. It adds a magical touch to the whole experience.”

“You're unbelievably stubborn,” Yoongi teased.

To that, you simply shrugged your shoulders, embracing your determined nature.

“What's the heated discussion about?” Jimin interjected, holding a couple of beer cans.

“How intolerable this brat can be,” Yoongi grumbled.

Jimin chuckled, extending a can towards you. You graciously accepted, and the blonde headed to his boyfriend, delivering the other can.

“By the way, Yoongles mentioned you invited a friend from college,” you remarked.

Jimin settled beside you. “Oh, yes, I apologize for not informing you earlier. I know you're not a fan of mingling with strangers, but Yoongi assured me everything is fine.”

You nodded. “No need to worry; I'm perfectly fine with it.”

Jimin visibly relaxed. “Great! You don't have to stress about anything. My friend is not only nice but also incredibly funny.”

Smiling, you inquired, “Were you two very close friends?”

Jimin reclined in his chair, looking at you with evident happiness.

“The connection we shared was extraordinary. Despite his initial shyness, he gradually transformed into a popular figure. Sadly, we lost touch after graduating, and a year ago, he embarked on a global adventure. Now, he's back,” Jimin revealed, his eyes reflecting the depth of their friendship.

“That's truly wonderful. I've always dreamed of an extensive journey myself,” you shared.

Jimin nodded, disclosing, “I followed his captivating journey through his Instagram. His photography gained significant acclaim.”

“Photography, you say?” you inquired.

“Yes, even though his academic focus was in computer science,” Jimin explained, sipping his beer.

“That's remarkable. I'm genuinely happy to hear that his life has taken such a positive turn,” you remarked.

Jimin's emotions seemed to shift. “He's been through a lot, and witnessing his growth brings me immense joy.”

Before you could respond, the doorbell rang, prompting Jimin to leap up.

“It must be him!”

“He appears quite excited.” You noted, then turned to your friend, who was occupied with browning the meat.

“Yes, Jimin told me that his friend had a crisis and that's why he left for a year. Apparently he's a good guy and you know how Jimin is, too sensitive with those he loves.”

“Jimin has been an exceptional friend. I consider myself fortunate to have crossed paths with him,” you expressed sincerely.

A look of profound affection from Yoongi reinforced the warmth of the bond you shared with both of them.

“He's equally delighted to have you in his life, Bub,” Yoongi assured, a sentiment that brought a genuine smile to your face. In a life where you consciously kept your circle compact, the presence of Yoongi and Jimin proved to be the most precious and enriching.

In the midst of your conversation with Yoongi, the imminent return of Jimin momentarily slipped your mind. The air was filled with a blend of voices, among which Jimin's curiosity stood out.

“It's very quiet living here! Are you planning to look for something similar?” You heard Jimin’s voice.

However, the response was drowned out as the balcony door swung open with a resonant creak. Gathering mental fortitude, you adorned your best smile in anticipation.

“Hi, I’m…” you couldn't finish your sentence because you froze.

As you faltered in your attempt to introduce yourself, a sudden surge of paralysis gripped you, freezing your words on the precipice. The room hung suspended in a disconcerting silence, amplifying the tumult within. The boundary between jest and reality blurred, leaving you grappling with a maelstrom of emotions – the impulse to scream, the yearning to shed tears, and an inexplicable urge to escape. Your body, however, betrayed you, caught in a rigid state, joints locked, breath arrested, mirroring the stillness of your heart.

Swift to recognize your distress, Yoongi deftly intervened, redirecting the unfolding awkwardness.

“Hello! I'm Yoongi, Jimin's partner,” he declared, striding purposefully towards the newcomers. To diffuse the palpable tension, he continued, “And this is my best friend, ____,” punctuated by a subtle nod from you.

The newcomers responded with a tentative smile, their composure visibly unsettled. The girl, attuned to her boyfriend's wandering gaze on your figure, diplomatically interjected.

“Hello! I'm Jiwoo, Jungkook's fiancée,” she proclaimed with an air of gentle formality. The weight of the term "fiancée" lingered, resonating deeply in your thoughts.

Jeon Jungkook has a fiancée.

Jimin orchestrated the seating arrangement, placing them beside you. In this surreal juncture, Jungkook introduced himself, his voice an echoing remembrance from the past. Summoning the courage to meet his gaze for the first time since his arrival, you found your breath arrested by the sight of his face, an unsettling pause enveloping the room.

Standing before you was a man whose stature surpassed your recollection, a towering presence accentuated by his impressive height and robust frame. Cascading down his shoulders, his once-familiar dark hair now framed a countenance marked by the passage of time. The revelation of an intricate tapestry of tattoos adorning his arm became apparent, unveiled by the sleeves of his short black t-shirt.

Yet, it was the constancy of his gaze that struck the most profound chord within you. Despite the exchange of words with Jimin, his doe-eyed stare remained unwavering, anchoring your attention in an unsettling and unwelcome connection.

Overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, unable to endure another second in the shared space where their gazes lingered, you gracefully excused yourself. A swift retreat led you to the refuge of the bathroom, seeking solace within its walls as the echoes of their continued scrutiny lingered in your wake.

As your anxiety reached a fever pitch, its palpable effects reverberated in the environment. The handwash faucet, seemingly responding to your heightened state, unexpectedly opened by itself, and the bathroom window flapped vigorously, propelled by an unforeseen gust of wind.

With your heart pounding relentlessly in your chest, you managed to slide down the cool tiles of the bathroom wall, seeking solace on the floor. The overwhelming pressure pushed you into a state of vulnerability.

Recalling the advice from Aunt Yoon's lessons, you instinctively covered your ears with your hands and shut your eyes, resting your head on your knees. Familiar voices echoed in your mind, guiding you to find composure amid the storm of emotions.

In an attempt to regain control, you focused on slow, deliberate breaths. As you exhaled, you directed your attention to the bathroom light. With a graceful sweep of your hand, you extinguished its glow, enveloping yourself in complete darkness, except for the soft illumination seeping through the window.

Within this shadowed cocoon, you conjured a small halo of light with your hands, orchestrating its gentle movements. This newfound distraction allowed you to redirect your focus, creating intricate animal shapes within the luminous halo.

Gratitude welled up as the calming effects of this self-imposed light show permeated your senses, coaxing your pulse back to a more manageable rhythm. Amidst the mental whining for teleportation powers, a shadow beneath the door brought you back to reality.

A delicate knock followed, the sound reverberating through the bathroom.

“Are you okay, Bub?” It was Yoongi.

Contemplating your next move, you acknowledged the inevitability of leaving the bathroom sanctuary. With a sigh of resignation, you rose to your feet and opened the bathroom door, prepared to face the outside world once more.

In the clarity of the room, your friend's worried expression was evident.

“Yes,” you managed to respond, your voice carrying a subtle tremor.

Observing your condition, Yoongi's skepticism lingered, although he refrained from pressing the matter further.

“I don't feel very well. I suspect it was something I ate. Can you excuse me to Jimin and his guests? I don't want to appear rude,” you admitted, attempting to convey sincerity despite the weakness in your words.

Yoongi maintained a neutral expression, nodding in acknowledgment. “I'll go get my keys. Wait for me here.”

Your immediate protest burst forth, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “No! I'm sorry, but I believe it's better for me to go alone. It's not too late, and the fresh air might alleviate my discomfort.”

Raising his eyebrows, your friend expressed concern, “Are you sure you're okay? Should I take you to the hospital?”

Offering a reassuring thumbs-up, you dismissed the trembling in your hands. “Everything is fine; I just feel a little dizzy and tired.”

Before Yoongi could interject, Jimin's voice echoed from outside. “Go,” you urged tensely, “I'll be fine. Just excuse me from Jimin.”

A complex array of emotions played across your friend's face, showcasing his inner struggle. After a few contemplative seconds, he sighed. “Okay, go, but be careful. Let me know when you arrive, and if you feel unwell, don't hesitate to call.”

Embracing him briefly, you departed the apartment swiftly, propelled by a sense of urgency that matched the pace of your footsteps.

With a hasty nod to the doorman, you left the haven of your friends' neighborhood, exhaling a sigh of relief. Under the cloak of night, you found solace in the anonymity it granted, allowing a cathartic scream of frustration to escape into the open air.

Unmindful of the sidelong glances from passersby, you surrendered to the maelstrom of emotions within. The night became a silent confidant to your inner turmoil, and the unbridled tears mirrored the tempest of feelings that engulfed you.

Despite knowing you should control yourself, especially since today's forecast didn't include torrential rain, you ignored this. You didn't bother hiding your magic, which triggered a downpour the moment you left Jimin's apartment.

Facing the reality of your evasive tendencies, you couldn't deny the stark truth about your emotional susceptibilities, a trait often criticized by Aunt Yoon as a vulnerability. In your solitude, your tear-streaked face and swollen, reddened eyes painted a vivid portrait of vulnerability—a deviation from familial expectations. Yet, in this nocturnal moment, it was only the gaze of strangers that bore witness to your emotional upheaval.

As you reclined in the bathtub, contemplating the unexpected encounter with Jungkook, a whirlwind of emotions engulfed you. Surprisingly, Salem, your usually mischievous cat, lay perched on the bath chair, radiating an uncharacteristic air of understanding – a stark departure from his typical penchant for mockery.

It dawned on you that Salem was privy to the intricacies of your history with Jungkook, intimately aware of the emotions that resurfaced during the encounter. His unspoken support, though unexpected, held a unique depth, a testament to the unbreakable bond between you and your feline confidant.

With a deep sigh, you decided to share more details with Salem, letting your feelings spill out like water from a broken dam. “I never imagined he would come back into my life. Not after all this time,” you confessed, your voice tinged with vulnerability.

Salem listened intently, his green eyes reflecting a mixture of curiosity and sympathy. “Life has a funny way of surprising us,” he mused, his tail swaying gently.

You nodded. “I just wish I could have been more composed when I saw him. Instead, I froze like a deer caught in headlights and ran away.”

The cat brushed against your arm, a gesture of reassurance. “It happens to the best of us. Emotions are messy, especially when it comes to matters of the heart.”

You couldn't argue with that. Jungkook's presence had stirred up a whirlwind of memories, both happy and painful. “I thought I had moved on,” you admitted, running your fingers through the water absentmindedly. “But seeing him again brought everything back.”

Salem, ever the sage advisor, offered his perspective. “Moving on doesn't mean forgetting. It means learning to live with the memories without letting them control you.”

His words resonated with you, providing a sliver of clarity amid the emotional turmoil. “I know, Salem. I need to face this too, even if it feels like reopening old wounds.”

“I'm surprised you accepted this so quickly,” your cat confessed.

You sighed slowly, playing with the soap bubbles.

“I have to, apparently Jimin adores Jungkook. That means I'll have to run into him at least one more time,” you growled.

Salem laughed, throwing his head back showing his white fangs.

“You talk like it's strange that Jungkook is charming to everyone.”

You gave him a knife-sharp look. “Of course I know Jungkook is charming. I knew it from the first moment I saw him”

Your cat looked at you mockingly “I see that your jealousy is still active.”

You threw water at him, making him hiss at you.

“Careful with this beautiful fur, human girl!” Salem looked at himself, looking for any part of his body that was wet.

“I'm not jealous,” you replied.

“Yeah, of course,” your cat replied sarcastically. “As if you didn't suffer a mental breakdown every time Jungkook went to tutor that Cheerleader that you didn't like.”

You got up offended, spilling some water that overflowed onto the floor.

“For the love of Satan! Stop throwing water on the ground!”

You giggled but with a snap, you dried the wet floor without much difficulty.

“Better?”

Salem sighed irritably, but let it go. He knew that you were still affected by the events that occurred a few hours ago.

“I'm sorry,” you looked at him with your bright eyes, on the verge of tears. “It's just that I missed him so much and seeing him there was like my soul returning to my body.”

Salem nodded, his cat-like eyes focused on your trembling countenance. “I understand, although you must also remember that it's not the boy's fault that he hasn't seen you for almost ten years.”

You screeched in frustration. “I know! That's why I'm mad at myself." You clenched your fists. “I'm not being fair, I know.”

In seconds, hot tears of helplessness fell from your eyes.

You had cried so much that you felt like you were running dry, although you preferred to cry naked in your bathtub with your talking cat as a witness than cry like a loser in the streets with the pouring rain.

Salem nudged your hand with his head, a gesture that felt oddly comforting. A small smile played on your lips.

“I appreciate having you around,” you whispered gently. “Despite our occasional squabbles that resemble sibling rivalry, I find joy in having you as a part of my life.”

You and Salem remained in the bathroom, a peculiar duo bound by a history that transcended the ordinary human-pet relationship. The atmosphere softened, and Salem, with a twitch of his tail, broke the silence.

“You know, for a human, you're not half bad,” Salem teased, his green eyes glinting mischievously.

Rolling your eyes, you retorted, “And for a cat, you're surprisingly sentimental.”

Salem nudged your hand playfully, “Only for you, _____. But don't let it go to your head.”

You chuckled, grateful for the levity he brought to the moment. “I won't. So, any plans on how to deal with the Jungkook situation?”

Salem feigned contemplation, his tail swaying side to side. “Well, we could start with not throwing water on the floor every time you're annoyed.”

You laughed, “Fair enough. I'll work on that.”

As you began to drain the bathtub, Salem leaped down, pacing around the bathroom like he owned the place. “Remember, we're in this together, Human. I'm not letting you face the Jungkook dilemma alone.”

With a smirk, you replied, “Good to know, Cat. Teammates, right?”

“Teammates,” he affirmed, and as you stepped out of the bathroom, you couldn't help but appreciate the unique bond you shared with your sassy feline friend. Little did you know, the challenges ahead would only strengthen the unspoken understanding between you and Salem, making your friendship an unexpected source of strength in the face of life's unpredictable twists.

Indulging in an emotional outpour in the midst of a torrential downpour probably wasn't the wisest choice, and now you found yourself grappling with the repercussions of that impulsive decision.

Pain reverberated through your skull like an explosive symphony, each beat an agonizing pulse. Swollen to the point of incapacity, your eyes resisted attempts to open, trapped in the clutches of the affliction tormenting your body. A relentless cough seized you, each convulsion intensifying the already distressing situation.

The warmth radiating from your skin forewarned of an impending fever, threatening to pull you into the abyss of its debilitating embrace at any given moment. As discomfort layered upon discomfort, your physical state became an intricate tapestry of misery, weaving together the threads of throbbing pain, swollen eyes, and an unrelenting cough.

The incessant playback of ABBA's melodic tunes only intensified the predicament. Feeling utterly disheartened and shrouded in darkness, you impulsively struck your nightstand, yearning to silence the persistently chirpy alarm – a feat that proved elusive.

“Salem!” you bellowed in frustration, confident your feline companion was alert. Typically, at this hour, Salem reveled in observing the morning skirmishes between your neighbors, perched contentedly by the window. After a brief pause, you sensed the delicate touch of small paws on the wooden floor, followed by a graceful leap.

“What happened to your face?” inquired your concerned cat, gracefully traversing the expanse of the bed. Emitting a weary sigh, you replied, “What do you think?!” dripping with ironic exasperation. “Could you kindly put an end to the ABBA serenade? It's throbbing in my head.”

“I thought you'd never ask. I was on the verge of contemplating a window escape,” Salem quipped and a welcome hush settled in as the music ceased, leaving behind a palpable tranquility.

“Your appearance is rather dire,” mused your cat. “I'll venture into Binna's ancient cookbook, see if there's a remedy for your congestion and eyes.” With that, your feline companion gracefully exited the room, leaving you alone with the weight of your thoughts.

A peculiar sensation enveloped you, a departure from the serene routine you cherished. Yesterday's surreal events disrupted your tranquility, plunging you into an unexpected maelstrom. As stress mounted, the realization dawned: today, opening the store was an improbable feat. You resigned yourself to the inevitable task of informing Yoongi about your illness.

Contemplating calling him, you hesitated, anticipating his inevitable arrival at your apartment. After leaving you to your own devices yesterday, the gravity of recent events ensured he wouldn't let another moment elapse without seeking an explanation. You understood the futility of avoiding the impending conversation; Yoongi's familiarity with you meant evasion was a futile endeavor.

The internal conflict intensified. While you sought to shield your secrets, not for your sake but for the safety of those around you, memories surfaced of the last time an unwitting innocent had stumbled upon your hidden truths. The stakes were higher, and the delicate balance between disclosure and protection hung in the uneasy silence of your apartment.

The internal turmoil dissipated with a knock on your front door, a sure sign that it was Yoongi. Despite your initial inclination to feign slumber and play ignorant, you dismissed the unfairness of such tactics. Struggling against your physical discomfort, you made your way to the door, relying on muscle memory to navigate the lock on the first attempt.

“Hello,” you greeted him, your voice laced with drowsiness. As the silence lingered, your anxiety mounted. “Tell me you're Yoongi and not a stranger.”

Assured by his familiar voice, you sighed in relief when Yoongi confirmed his identity. "It's me, Daisy,” he reassured, but concern etched his features. “What happened to you?! Do you need help?”

Before you could dismiss his offer, Yoongi's hands gently grasped your shoulders, guiding you back into the apartment. “You should have told me you were like this!” he exclaimed, a mix of frustration and worry evident in his tone. “Go to bed, let me prepare some herbal water and soup.”

Attempting nonchalance, you responded, “It's okay. Salem is taking care of it,” the words slipping out without much thought. Heading towards your room, you realized Yoongi wasn't following.

“What's going on?” you questioned.

“How is Salem going to take care of that?” Yoongi pressed, seeking clarification.

In a quick mental scramble, you conjured an excuse. “You know I like to joke about Salem being almost like a person,” you explained, hoping he would attribute your words to the haze of illness. Yoongi relaxed slightly, accepting the explanation. “Okay, let's go,” he agreed, unknowingly stepping into a web of secrets and feigned normalcy.

You found solace in the eccentricity of your speech and demeanor, knowing that Yoongi rarely took your statements seriously. “I guess this is about last night,” he remarked, momentarily halting your steps.

“Uh, yeah, about that…” you hesitated, reaching your unkempt bed where Yoongi dutifully set about fixing the disarrayed bedding, tenderly covering you.

“I'm sorry,” you murmured, opening your eyes just a sliver, the figure of your friend a bit blurred.

“Why?” he inquired, settling on the edge of the bed beside you.

“For being a lousy friend,” you confessed.

Yoongi chuckled. “Why do you think you're a lousy friend?”

A lingering silence enveloped the room as internal debate raged on. The decision to divulge or withhold weighed heavily on your mind, yet the fear of losing Yoongi eclipsed the burden of guilt.

“Last night,” you began, releasing a fraction of the truth.

“I can't say I don't care, but the truth is, I don't know what happened with you last night.”

Observing your uncertain expression, Yoongi placed his hand atop yours. “It's okay if you don't want to tell me, but if you need someone to share those things with, you know you have me.” His reassurance offered a comforting anchor in the tempest of secrets and unspoken words.

“It’s not that! It's just that…” you blurted out, grappling to organize your thoughts. “It's hard to tell you this.”

Yoongi's expression shifted to surprise. “Is it something bad? Although it hurts me a little to think that you can't tell me things.”

“No!” you blurted out again. “I mean, it's not a bad thing, but it is a secret—something I haven't shared with anyone. I can't leave you with that weight on your shoulders. I care about you deeply, and this is a very old personal issue of mine.”

Yoongi sighed, his touch on your hand offering a reassurance. “I understand that you have secrets and everything, but I need you to trust me. Whatever it is, I can handle it.”

Frustration welled up within you. You comprehended your friend's earnestness, and part of you yearned to unburden yourself, seeking refuge in his understanding like a vulnerable child. Yet, the weight of the secrets, particularly this one, loomed heavily.

“I trust you with my life,” you asserted firmly. “Don't ever think that I don't trust you. But this is delicate, and I don't want to put you in danger, okay? It's for your own good. I need you to understand.” Your hand found his, emphasizing the gravity of your words, seeking a connection that transcended spoken language in the complexity of shared trust and unspoken fears.

Yoongi's gaze lingered on the juncture where your hands met his. Your small, pale hands, adorned with various scars, each a testament to childhood mishaps, contrasting sharply with his own larger, slender fingers—resembling those of a pianist, unmarred by any blemish.

Having known you for about five years, Yoongi recalled his initial impression of you as a girl thrust into the adult world, seemingly vulnerable yet never to be underestimated. Physically unassuming, you harbored an indomitable strength within. Even on the brink of collapse, you seldom sought assistance, always striving to navigate challenges independently.

Your independence, strong will, and stubbornness were palpable, complemented by a warmth and genuine concern for your loved ones. Despite the tough exterior, Yoongi understood that you harbored a complex relationship with your family—a topic shrouded in silence, as if you had grown up in solitude.

Yoongi sighed, breaking the contemplative silence. “It's okay. I understand. But when you're ready, please tell me. Otherwise, I don't know how to help you, kiddo.” Despite your persistent self-reliance, he emphasized his commitment to ensuring your well-being.

The unspoken bond between you and Yoongi transcended mere friendship; it was a pact of mutual support, a promise that echoed in the intertwining of your hands—a connection that conveyed a shared understanding even in the face of undisclosed burdens.

Giving him a warm smile, you say, “I've got you, Yoongi. When the time's right, I'll spill all the beans. I Appreciate you rolling with the punches in my life and being the constant in all the chaos. You're my rock, Yoongi.”

A spark of anticipation ignites within you, and you can't help but feel a renewed sense of connection. You eagerly await the day when you can share your truths with Yoongi, not just because it's necessary, but because he's earned the right to know the intricacies of your heart. Until then, the unspoken bond between you two will continue to strengthen, paving the way for a future where your shared trust transcends the undisclosed burdens you carry.

The weight of the term "coward" bore down on you, a bitter truth you grappled with. In refusing your friends' invitations, you felt the sting of guilt, recognizing the unfairness of your actions. Yet, each declination seemed like a desperate attempt to shield them from the mysterious reality you were living.

Deep down, you were keenly aware that Yoongi harbored suspicions about your enigmatic secret and your reluctance to join gatherings since Jungkook's return. But so far, he chose to maintain a respectful silence, understanding the complexity of your situation. You knew that inevitably, you would have to face them or reveal the truth, a daunting prospect that loomed on the horizon of your clandestine reality.

Lost in contemplation, you found solace in the transformative touch of your magic on a calla lily's withered leaves. The visual metamorphosis from faded yellow to vivid green offered a momentary escape from the turmoil within.

The idea of visiting a neglected park to tend to the forsaken plants flickered in your thoughts. However, your recent weeks had dwindled into a mundane routine—shuttling between your apartment and work with little room for spontaneity.

Salem, your feline confidant, dismissed your cautious approach, deeming you a “scared chicken.” Yet, Salem wasn't navigating the unpredictable streets, fearing an accidental reunion with a former love entwined with his fiancée.

Seeking refuge in the familiar, your nights were painted with Gilmore Girls marathons, a shared ritual with Salem. In this routine, you found a fragment of normalcy, although Salem's affinity for reality shows, particularly the extravagantly dramatic ones, wasn't lost on you—typical of a devoted Jersey Shore fan.

On one of those nights, there you were, clad in bunny pajamas and cocooned beneath a soft, pink blanket. Salem, your feline companion, lounged nearby, sporting cucumbers over his eyes as he reclined in an armchair atop a plush pillow.

“I don't understand why Rory makes such a big deal about being with that cute boy,” Salem remarked, his feline skepticism directed at the TV screen.

You sighed, your attention captivated by the unfolding drama on the television. “Well, Rory is classified as a good girl, and he's a bad boy, as they say,” you attempted to rationalize the protagonist's actions.

Salem sighed dramatically, almost dislodging one of the cucumbers from his eyes. “These children today with their labels. That's not a bad boy! Having a bad personality and doing unexpected things is not being bad. In my human era, I used to set houses on fire for fun.”

You couldn't help but glance at your cat, suppressing a laugh. “Salem, the difference is that he simply behaves badly socially. You, on the other hand, wanted to dominate the world.”

Offended, Salem shifted, grabbing a corn cap and defiantly placing it in his mouth. “What's wrong with wanting to take over the world? I was honestly doing all you vapid humans a favor.”

You sighed, fully aware that attempting to alter your cat's worldview was a futile endeavor. Despite his occasional moral quirks, his loyalty to you remained unwavering, even if his ethical compass was a bit unconventional.

Salem chimed in, dismissing the idea of Rory choosing her boyfriend over the 'bad boy.' “Anyway, she'd be stupid to choose her idiot boyfriend over the 'bad boy,'” Salem quipped, offering his feline commentary on the TV drama.

Casually grabbing a handful of popcorn, you nodded in agreement. “I can't deny that. Jess is very charming.”

Salem burst into laughter. “You always fall for the character like him,” he teased, capturing the essence of your penchant for captivating personalities.

You shrugged, acknowledging Salem's astute observation. Personality, indeed, held considerable weight in your assessments. However, a somber undertone enveloped the room as your cat uttered, “Although Jungkook was a different story.”

Salem, quick to rectify any potential discomfort, clarified, “I mean, Jungkook wasn't a bad boy, but he was very charming.”

A bittersweet smile played on your lips. Salem's words rang true – Jungkook was undeniably charming. In fact, “charming” had been his nickname during your past relationship. His allure extended beyond his striking physical features to his dark, captivating eyes. Yet, it was his multifaceted personality that truly distinguished him. Jungkook, a gentleman and a hopeless romantic, possessed a charisma that left an indelible mark.

However, the charm didn't diminish his playful side – a penchant for competition and teasing that brought both joy and occasional exasperation. The memories of those moments played like a silent film, evoking a mix of nostalgia and the inevitable ache that accompanied thoughts of Jungkook.

Your talking cat, astutely perceiving the direction of your thoughts, chose to intervene. “It's late. My dream of beauty awaits me,” he declared, nonchalantly removing the cucumbers from his eyes, as if signaling the end of his entertainment.

You absentmindedly nodded in response. “Hey brat, you should go to sleep. Your dark circles are getting worse every day,” your cat stated, taking a few steps into his designated space.

As always, your cat's acerbic comments carried an underlying truth. Your dark circles, silent witnesses to your restless nights, had indeed become more pronounced. It wasn't that you were resistant to the idea of sleep; it was just that ever since the unexpected encounter with Jungkook, restful slumber had eluded you. Moreover, an inexplicable fatigue had settled into your bones, leaving your body more exhausted than usual.

The nightly escapades with Gilmore Girls and Salem's company, while comforting, couldn't completely mask the deeper anxieties that lingered beneath the surface. As you stood on the precipice between wakefulness and dreams, the echoes of the past and the uncertainties of the present converged, casting shadows that manifested as visible signs on your weary face.

Yoongi had mentioned his and Jimin's trip to his parents' house, but it only fully registered today when he sent a message reminding you that, for the day, you would be the sole occupant of the store.

Luckily, you were already en route, having woken up ahead of the alarm. Mornings held a special allure for you, a time when the world seemed brimming with possibilities. The birds serenaded from the trees, the plants stirred to life, eager for a morning sunbath, and people bustled about, preparing for their day.

Fortune favored you, as the day unfolded with a surprising calmness, sparing you from a hectic workload. Capitalizing on the tranquil atmosphere, you decided to close up shop early and head home, intending to invite your cat for a leisurely outing.

Salem, seemed overjoyed at the prospect, his daily entertainment having temporarily moved away—the neighbors next door.

You adorned yourself in a thin dress adorned with vibrant flower patterns, the perfect attire for basking in the sunny day. A diligent application of sunscreen followed, a necessary precaution for your sensitive skin.

However, Salem's animal instincts prevented him from roaming freely without a leash. Although not a conventional cat, his unpredictable nature necessitated a careful approach. As you prepared to take him out, the anticipation of a sunlit excursion filled the air, promising a serene interlude amidst the routine of your day.

“Do you prefer that we go to the park near the center or the one near this sector?” you inquired, capitalizing on the deserted streets to engage in a conversation with Salem.

Salem's tail swayed as he noticed bugs fluttering near some flowers. “Let's go to the one close to your friends' neighborhood. Let's take advantage of the fact that they're not in the city,” he responded absentmindedly.

Enthusiastically, you and your cat set off in that direction. The park near your friends' neighborhood held a special charm—beautiful, serene, and known for its delightful ice cream offerings.

Upon arrival, you witnessed the expansive park filled with families enjoying their leisure time. Opting to settle near the pet-friendly area, you and Salem joined the ranks of others with the same intention.

As you observed, puppies frolicked joyfully, engaging in playful antics, while cats gracefully navigated their designated climbing structures. Salem, for once, seemed poised for a predator's pursuit, his back raised and gaze fixed intently on the grass.

Seating yourself, you embraced the idyllic scene, the carefree interactions of pets mirroring the leisurely afternoon unfolding around you.

After a delightful stint at the pet-friendly section, you suggested to Salem that it was time for ice cream—an idea that sparked shared excitement. The ice cream stand in this park had a well-deserved reputation for its delightful treats.

As you traversed the park toward the exercise area, the ice cream cart came into view, attended by an elderly gentleman exuding warmth. “Hello,” you greeted. “Can you give me two ice cream cones, please?” You opted for the classic strawberry and vanilla combination, while Salem subtly indicated—keeping it hush-hush from the vendor—his preference for chocolate and cookie flavor.

Equipped with your chosen delights, both of you sought refuge from the heat under the shade in the nearby area.

“There are quite a few humans exercising,” Salem observed between licks of his ice cream, which you held out for him.

You nodded, your mouth occupied with the delectable treat. In the vicinity, exercise platforms hosted several people, likely part of a group that gathered for communal workouts. The gusty afternoon wind played its part, occasionally obstructing your view as you contended with strands of hair billowing into your face.

Amidst bites of ice cream and the distant hum of exercise enthusiasts, you and Salem reveled in the simple joy of a sunlit day, punctuated by the sweet indulgence of shared treats.

The tranquility surrounding you shattered abruptly when Salem, positioned next to you, nearly dropped his ice cream. “What happened to you?” you inquired in surprise, brushing strands of hair out of your face.

As your vision cleared, you observed your cat, seemingly paralyzed by something in his line of sight. Following his gaze, you discovered the source of his astonishment—a muscular figure executing pull-ups on some bars. However, your fortune took a turn for the worse as you recognized the specimen to be none other than Jungkook.

His sweaty back adhered to a tight black t-shirt, elevating the temperature on your cheeks. While you had always been aware of Jungkook's well-maintained physique, your mental image had been anchored in his teenage years, not this embodiment of masculinity.

“Damn,” you and Salem echoed simultaneously. As you continued to gawk, your grip faltered, leading to the unfortunate demise of your ice cream. Yet, your attention remained captivated by the man before you.

An involuntary reaction stirred between your legs—a sensation dormant for far too long. However, the enchantment was abruptly disrupted by the barking of a large dog nearby. Panic set in; you were with Salem, and despite his mischievous tendencies in his golden age, he remained a cat.

Swiftly scooping up your feline companion, you used your magic to clean the fallen ice cream with a single hand.

In a near sprint, you attempted to escape the scene swiftly, but your efforts were thwarted as the same barking dog bolted towards you at full speed. Closing your eyes in fear, you clutched Salem tightly to your chest, shielding him from potential harm.

“Fuckin-!” Salem's protest was muffled as you squeezed him even tighter. Panicking, you beseeched the approaching dog, “Oh, cute little dog! Good dog! Don't eat my cat, please!”

To your relief, instead of feeling sharp teeth, the dog leaped onto you, licking you eagerly and wagging its tail with unbridled joy. As you cautiously opened your eyes, you found the little dog gazing at you happily, devoid of any malevolent intentions.

Before you could identify the source of the new voice, the dog leapt off you. “I'm sorry! I promise he doesn't have any bad intentions; he's just very playful!” the owner explained.

“Don't worry…” you began, only to be interrupted as you locked eyes with your unexpected savior. “Oh, it's you!” Jungkook exclaimed with unusual excitement.

Struggling to respond, you found yourself once again speechless in his presence. Jungkook, unaware of your rigid demeanor, continued, “Sorry about my dog! He's still a puppy and tends to be playful.”

Feeling claws digging into your stomach, you silently cursed Salem. As Jungkook spoke, you attempted to break free from your frozen state. “Hi, um... sorry, it must be because of my cat.” You finally managed to speak, avoiding direct eye contact. “Don't worry, I did notice.”

Jungkook's smile was blindingly bright, leaving you momentarily stunned. “He's cute,” he remarked, pointing to your chest where Salem was concealed.

Suppressing a laugh at the irony, you agreed, “Yes, although he's not much of a dog lover.” You gestured towards Bam, who was curiously sniffing around “He’s cute too”

“He is. Although his size can be intimidating,” Jungkook commented with a smile.

Unable to resist, you inadvertently mirrored his smile. “How old is he?” you inquired, curiosity piqued. Bam, a Doberman with a sleek, dark coat, stood at a height reaching up to your belly. He exuded an air of elegance and grace.

Jungkook's response drew an astonished gasp from you, “Almost seven months. I know, it's the same reaction every time I mention his age.”

A laugh bubbled from you as you adjusted Salem, his curious little head popping up from your arm. “Hello, little friend,” Jungkook greeted your feline companion warmly, fostering a comforting warmth within you.

You introduced Salem, playfully mentioning, “Unlike Bam, let's say he's not very young”.

It wasn't exactly a lie – you had known Salem since you were a baby, and according to your aunts, Salem had been a cat for quite a long time.

Jungkook extended his tattooed hand towards you, curiosity dancing in his doe-like eyes. “Can I pet him?” The sudden closeness caught you off guard, but you managed to reply, “Sure. He's not aggressive.”

Jungkook's gentle strokes on your cat's dark fur left Salem completely enchanted, purring happily in your arms. “Apparently, he likes affection,” Jungkook observed, his eyes locking onto yours.

You smiled shyly, your pulse quickening. “No. He only likes you,” you shared, attempting to bring a lightness to the situation. “He doesn't like people very much. Hopefully, he can put up with Yoongi.”

Jungkook grinned at your words, and before temptation could take hold, you squeezed your cat and smoothed down your dress. “I think it's time to go,” you said casually, concealing any nervousness. “It was nice seeing you.”

Surprisingly, Jungkook seemed momentarily taken aback by your swift departure. “Oh sure!” His cheerful tone dimmed slightly. “I'm sorry about what happened with Bam. I hope you had a good afternoon.”

You nodded shyly, uncertain if another encounter with the sweaty yet undoubtedly attractive Jungkook would be good for your heart.

“Well, I guess I'll see you on Wednesday?” he suggested, subtly trying to delay your departure.

“On Wednesday?” you asked with a feigned innocence.

Jungkook chuckled. “I guess Yoongi hasn't told you yet. We're having a barbecue with friends to celebrate my return to the country. It's at my friend's house where I'm staying, just a few minutes from here.” He shared this with a shy smile, “You're invited; I hope you can make it.”

Despite the initial inclination to decline, Jungkook's charm left you powerless to resist his hopeful gaze. “Okay,” you agreed after a moment, pulling your gaze away from his eyes to survey the surroundings. “I'll see if I can come.”

Jungkook's smile persisted, seemingly undeterred by your attempt at resistance. “I'll look forward to it. It's going to be a blast.”

You chuckled nervously, “Don't set your expectations too high.”

Jungkook, still smiling, leaned in slightly and said, “Hey, it's going to be a fun time on Wednesday. Good food, good vibes. You gotta be there!”

You chuckled, “I'll think about it. Can't promise anything, though.”

Jungkook, with a playful grin, countered, “Come on, live a little. We didn't meet properly last time, but I think we'll get along. I already like your vibe, and I can see that Jimin and Yoongi adore you”

You raised an eyebrow, “My vibe, huh? Well, we'll see. No guarantees, though.”

Jungkook, keeping it light, gave a casual shrug, “Cool. Wednesday it is, then?”

Despite your initial resistance, Jungkook's carefree demeanor and magnetic aura prove to be a formidable combination. Succumbing to the easy flow of conversation and the genuine warmth he exudes, you find yourself nodding in agreement. “Sure, Wednesday it is,” you reply, trying to downplay the subtle thrill that creeps into your tone.

Jungkook's smile widens, a playful glint in his eyes. “Awesome! Can't wait to hang out. It's going to be a good time, I promise.”

Internally shaking your head at your unexpected change of heart, you shoot back, “Don't get too excited! I'm just there for the food.”

As you walked away, the realization dawned upon you – you were in deep trouble. The echoes of Jungkook's laughter lingered in your mind, and the casual commitment to a Wednesday gathering now felt like the first step into a maze of unpredictable emotions. Somehow, in that lighthearted exchange, you couldn't shake off the feeling that the road you were on might lead to a place where your carefully constructed emotional boundaries would be tested.

#bts #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook x oc #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #yoonmin #magic au #bts fanfic #jungkook fiction #bts fic #jungkook fluff #jjk fic

[badwitch-if]

OG DEMO + AU DEMO **and a note about the demo that won the vote

Magic is all too real and witches reign supreme.

This is a story of excess & indulgence. Luxury & depravity. Lust & love. Horror & debauchery. 

But mostly it's a story of rediscovering your inner witch. 

Bad Witch is set in a matriarchal, gothic universe eerily similar to our own, where magic runs the world. And at its core, it is a love letter to the incredibly strong and vibrant friendships that we forge in our youth, and how they ultimately shape the people we become.

Witxhes dominate the upper echelons of society, and magic has seeped into every facet of day-to-day life, for witches and humans alike. Humans were relegated to a lower class of living and as witches tend to be quite opulent & over indulgent [and more often than not revelling in their own personal vices], the bougie Season of the Witch began. Witching Society flourished and quickly overtook over the world, trickling down to influence even those without magic.

SO WILL YOU BE A BAD WITCH, OR A GOOD WITCH?

You were born to one of the most ancient and thus, important witching families; the only child of a famous mother and an even more infamous grandmother. Your ancestors were among the very first witches to lead the revolution, desperate to create a world where their children would never again die by human hands.

Your childhood was rather lonely and spent under the tutelage of the worlds best witches and academics, whilst your mother did her best to ignore your existence whenever it didn’t directly benefit her. And so years later you would often joke that your life really began once you were accepted into Ariadne Academy, the premiere school for exceptionally gifted Witxhes.

You were placed in a coven with eight of your peers; girls and boys who would quickly become your family, until it was almost like you couldn’t remember a time before them. They shared your all-consuming hunger for magic and knowledge and experiences, traits that made your coven [nicknamed the Silverlakers] an unstoppable force within the Demonhall arena. Everything was going so perfectly until it suddenly burned down around you, leaving your coven a husk of its former self.

Aaand this is currently where the stories splinter off.

OG DEMO — In the OG demo, your coven is still somewhat intact. MC’s feelings towards them may or may not have changed, but on the whole, the Silverlakers are still functioning as the overachieving badasses they were at the academy. They’re still your best friends, your soulmates, your lovers. You love them and they most definitely love you — it’s just one big lovefest. 

As a master alchemist you tediously work through trials of your newest potion while still coasting off the success of your last serum, the wildly popular Moon Juice. The story focuses on the unnaturally strong bond that exists between the remaining Silverlakers, and the powerful magic you’ve wrought because of that. The incredibly deep but complicated friendships that you built are maintained to this day, and still just as co-dependent... or have they been making you feel stifled or claustrophobic? 

You can choose how your relationship with Ash progressed post-breakup. Was it messy and dramatic, or did you keep going back to them, again and again? Have you and Ori been just the bestest friends all this time, or have things gotten a bit awkward?

AU DEMO — In the AU demo, your coven was broken following the loss of one of your own. You all went your own ways and everything that you shared was left by the wayside. You’ve spent the better part of a decade running away from your Silver Lake family, the only real home you ever knew. But now, against all of your better judgements, your returning to York. Only for a few days, of course. A couple weeks, tops. 

You haven’t returned since you absconded after graduation, when you used a somewhat controversial but entirely contrived excuse for your disappearance. And as if The Fates themselves had seen to it, you once again find yourself thrown together with the other witches formerly known as Silverlakers. Their reactions to your return are not at all what you had expected, and you’re left second-guessing what actually happened all those years ago.

No matter how deep of a rift was left between your coven, Ori was the one who really refused to give up on you. In their very unique way, they practically strong-armed you into maintaining some kind of contact. Of all your former covenmates, you are hands down closest to Ori. Your breakup with Ash, no matter how it was done, was shocking and cut deep. You can choose whether to stand by your past actions or try to make amends with your first love. 

Both the OG & AU stories will feature opportunities to reconnect with: the former childhood friend turned academy rival; as well as the young professor from your university years. And despite their shorter and more mysterious descriptions, they are both main RO’s, along with Ash & Ori.

Will you try to repair the broken connections plaguing your coven, or forge a brand new path? Will you decide to confront the nightmares of your past face on in the Demonhall arena, or continue to ignore the literal demons that chase you?

~ Fully customisable character — you can currently play as a woman, man, or non-binary person; straight, gay, or bisexual. Customise your character's personality, style and how they reacted in major moments of their life leading up to present events,

~ Choose how to react to your current coven dynamics — fight to save your soulmates & strengthen your long-established bonds, or play around on greener pastures with other witches

~ Meet your familiar and decide which form it takes, with your familiar's animal impacting the story

~ Set up a cozy, witchy corner to call your own! A few options include a reclaimed lighthouse, luxurious penthouse in the sky, and a secluded cabin in the woods

~ Continue to cross sexual conquests off your list of Lovers to Bed, or get serious and pursue a more serious connection. There are currently 4.5 love interests [all gender variable] as well as an optional poly route. I'm also considering bringing back a character who was cut from the OG story... TBD!

~ Decide what happened to MC's relationship with Ash, in the years since graduation. Have they drifted apart while leading separate lives, or have they been on-and-off for the better part of a decade?

~ Get answers & closure by chasing down ghosts from your past. Give yourself over to the demons in your past, or fight to find a balance between your life and the monsters at the gate.

~ Explore the ever-changing hellscapes of Demonhall and confront your demons, or keep those traumatic memories in the past where they belong

~ But above all else, choose which path your character takes going forward. Chase your dreams and loves, or turn your back, light it up & watch the world burn around you.

During your time at Ariadne Academy, rumours swirled nonstop about your coven.

You got along too well.

You loved each other too hard.

Some people said you were a bunch of weirdos, while others whispered [a little too loudly] that all of your parents had conspired together, bribing the Witches Council to put you all together in one coven. But back then you couldn't give a shit about anyone or anything outside your Silver Lake home.

You found your first love within your coven, as well as seven other soulmates. And for a long time, that was all you needed.

☆ Elijah Akos {m}

☆ Suki Aoki {f}

♡ Aisling Casablanca {f} // Asher Casablanca {m}

♡ Oriana Helyr {f} // Orion Helyr {m}

☆ Belladonna Humphrey {f}

☆ Endora Stills {f}

☆ Hazel Trout {f} — Deceased

☆ Bren Wylder {m}

The grandiose and horrifying Demonhall is a favourite pastime for Witches young and old. Two opposing covens enter the arena (or as it's lovingly called by fans, the Demon Dome) and are sealed inside. Usually a timer is set for 6 hours, but some exhibition games run a 'last Witch standing' simulator, that can go on for days. 

At the core of every Demonhall arena lies it's true power, a demonstone. The crystalized heart of a demon powers and creates unique and dangerous environments for covens to progress through. Whether it's a futuristic, neon playground; the dilapidated ruins of Titans; or a much too lifelike version of the floor is lava, each unique setting has been randomly and lovingly crafted by the demonstone. 

Just as each demon is unique and come with their specific set of baggage challenges, so do their corresponding arenas. Some are more manipulative in luring you into their traps, while others don't waste time in throwing everything they've got at you.

The object of the game, quite simply, is to challenge & toss opposing witches out of the match, using whatever spells & curses, or hexes & charms you keep in your arsenal. All while avoiding the real terror of the Demonhall, the demon itself.

For over a decade, your life revolved around Demonhall. You were the Lead for your coven, meaning you often bore the brunt of whatever the demonstone was hurtling at you. Your Silver Lake coven dominated the amateur Demonhall circuit for the better part of a decade. You and your covemates were elevated to a level of celebrity that few others at Ariadne Academy could relate to, as you were splashed across dozens of magazine covers before you were 18.

You planned your life around your obsession and love of the game, and as your graduation approached, you fielded dozens of offers to play for top-tier professional teams. But then... the unexpected happened during a match and you lost a member of your coven.

☆The First Love☆ ...& Ash's playlist

Aisling DeLoach {f} // Asher DeLoach {m}, 31

Ash was your first love. You dated for several years during your time at Ariadne Academy. You grew up together in your Silver Lake cottage and soon after you met, you found it hard to deny your teenage crush. 

You bonded over a mutual (rather mad) obsession with Demonhall, and it didn't take long for that bond to translate onto the arena. The Silver Lake Demonhall coven dominated the competition, thanks in large part to the connection you shared with Ash.

You made plans together to follow your passions after graduation, and even courted the interest of several top-tier professional clubs. They wanted you both, and were willing to restructure their teams around you & Ash.

But life happened, and you surprised everyone when you suddenly broke things off with Ash and the Demonhall teams. Instead you followed a secondary love and traveled across the world in pursuit of cryptozoological mysteries. 

In the decade that you've been working out in the field, Ash has been named Demonhall MVP for three years in a row. Their legions of adoring fans have only multiplied. Is there room for you in their life nowadays, or is it truly too late?

☆The Best Friend☆ ...& Ori's playlist

Oriana Helyr {f} // Orion Helyr {m}, 30

Ori has been your longest and closest friend. No matter what your relationship was like with the rest of the coven, you could always count on Ori having your back. And sometimes being a shoulder to cry on, during the rockier parts of your relationship with Ash. In a way, it's always felt like the three of you had your own kind of connection, but at times, that could put Ori in the middle of your shit with Ash.

Ori is a highly sought after Master Architect, one of only two in the country. They’re instrumental to the buildings integrity and the future success of it’s residences. Ori often spends weeks onsite, crafting intricate enchantments around the bones of the structure, ensuring not only structural safety but doing everything in their power to position them for prosperity.

There's never been any fronts or facades with Ori, just transparent (sometimes brutal) honesty. You've never had to pretend around them and you might even be your truest self when you're with them. And then the two of you would stay up all night, talking and watching movies, and polishing off copious amounts of alcohol. In fact, many of those nights ended up serving as inspiration for your new experimental potion, a cure-all hangover draught.

In the years since the academy, Ori has tracked you down across the globe too many times to count. It always seemed like they had some magical way of knowing when your life was going to shit and they'd spontaneously turn up with boxes of wine & chocolate, immediately taking over your kitchen to cook up something utterly delicious

☆The Lifelong Rival☆

Viridian ‘Poe’ Black {f/m}, 31

Poe was one of your very first friends, long before the academy. Your mothers ran in the same high society circles and so you were often left to your own devices. For Poe that usually meant running off into the woods to scout for berries and beasts, or tirelessly watching or reading up on anything to do with Demonhall. And in fact, decades later, you've still never met anyone as obsessed with the game as them. Even as a kid, Poe was haughty and overtly snobby; they always knew exactly what and who they liked, and rarely strayed outside the lines.

But for some reason or another, you were someone they happily tolerated and actually seemed to like. Much to their delight, Their Demonhall fanaticism eventually infected you as well, and you spent countless hours debating the various forms, methods, and positions of the beautiful but deadly game. The two of you would often daydream about your future life at Ariadne Academy, and their eyes lit up with unabashed glee when they spoke of how together, you would bring about a new era of Demonhall. But then came the week before coven placements. And even after all of their extensive testing,  you & Poe weren't placed together.

After that Poe very rarely spoke to you and altogether stopped responding to your many messages over the years, and just like that, the delicate friendship you once shared was snuffed out. And while they'd always been sarcastic and biting, that had rarely been directed towards you. Until you were put in competition, both academically and in the Demonhall arena, and then you were introduced to an entirely different side of Poe. The one that knew your weaknesses and just when to exploit them, who seemed to take a particular happiness from your defeat.

☆The One That Got Away☆

Julia St. James {f} // Julian St. James {m}, 35

The two of you have a rather torrid history. Or at least, you might in another universe. In this one, sadly, your love affair was cut prematurely short after one perfect night. Before it could even begin.

Shortly after arriving in Iceland but before your apprenticeship could officially begin, you found yourself alone in a pub. Suddenly Jules slid into the booth opposite you, apologizing profusely while begging you to let them stay on a moment while they avoided a rather cantankerous individual. You didn’t stop them from ordering a drink, and then one turned into two, and two into three, until neither of you could say how much time had passed while you’d been talking away.

You talked of magic and philosophy, theology and literature, and no matter the topic, there was never an awkward pause or break in conversation. And not once did they bring up Demonhall. It was somehow exactly what you needed at the time, just weeks following your graduation from Ariadne Academy and everything that had had transpired in the weeks before. 

That night you both felt on the verge of something so much more. Before it was complicated by running into a colleague of theirs out with their wife. She was an acquaintance of your mother's and expressed shock that you'd be seen out and about with Jules St. James, the newest and youngest junior professor in the university's history, and a somewhat big deal in deity and divination circles. 

☆ ...

#if #interactive fiction #hosted games #choicescript #interactive novel #witches #choice of games #magic #wip #if wip #badwitch #badwitch if #if: wip #if: fyi #if: submission

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

After being in complete denial about the movie for the past 2 days I want to know if you happen to have nah recommendation or some good fanfics that is either based on Harry Potter or in the Harry Potter universe I’d appreciate so much. I think I’ve been scarred by this movie completely 😬

Yes. I am always happy to share uncredited works of she-who-must-not-be-named.

Amortentia by raspberrylimonade

(1/1 I 1,113 I General I Stydia)

Potions was always terrible in the week leading up to the full moon. Scott’s already heightened sense of smell was especially sensitive during this time. All the scents and fumes, on top of the typically gunky smell of the poorly ventilated dungeons, drove his nose crazy.

Today they were brewing amortentia. It was a rather difficult potion. Half the class was over-excited and making mistakes, which meant weird smells hitting his nose from all directions.

And then there was Stiles and Lydia’s potions.

shirley temple, on the rocks by orphan_account

(1/1 I 3,006 I Teen I Sterek)

“Are you sure you’re a Gryffindor?” Derek says.

“The hat did try to put me in Slytherin,” Stiles shrugs. “But I asked for Gryffindor, so," and he drains his drink, crunching on the bits of syrupy ice at the bottom.

kickstarts again by 1001cranes

(1/1 I 3,544 I Teen I Sterek)

Derek has known Stiles was his mate since Fourth Year; Stiles keeps getting lost on the way to the Common Room - these two things may very well be related.

That Witch! by sapphireginger

(1/1 I 3,580 I Teen I Hermione/Stiles)

“Are any of your books damaged?” he asked, prepared to pay to fix them if needed.

The girl quirked a brow. “Would it matter if they were?”

Stiles nodded seriously. “Absolutely. Books are knowledge. The destruction of knowledge is blasphemous in my book. Anyone who says otherwise is a bloody fool and—”

“I’m sorry,” she said between giggles. “You’re American. I wasn’t expecting you to say ‘bloody’.”

Mischief Unleashed by Artemis_Charmed for one-fandom-became-all-fandoms (Sara36913)

(1/1 I 6,241 I Teen I Sterek)

The thing was, magic was real. And the entire school was magical. Literally. The stairs moved; statues winked. There was a room that seemed to be around when you required it. So nothing should surprise him. Except. There was a large black wolf lying in a corner, under the half moon light shining through the window.

"The Enigma: Shadows of Magic" by uronthinicepal

(2/63 I 6,512 I Mature I Sterek)

When Stiles Stilinski finds himself at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, he's placed in Ravenclaw. In a world where werewolves and wizards exist in the same universe. Instead of Scott navigating his own way, he is sent to Ilvermony, the school for magic in America, to assimilate into werewolf life. Stiles is magic, he is a spark. He is sent to Hogwarts to learn and for his own safety. Join Stiles on his enigmatic journey into the world of magic, where the unexpected can become the greatest hero. Oh, and Derek's here too.

Hufflepuffs Are Awesome by Thealmostrhetoricalquestion

(1/1 I 10,524 I Teen I Sterek)

"My fierce firecracker,” Stiles gasps out, between laughs, “my precious little shortfuse.”

“Shut up, Stiles,” Derek says, his voice muffled as he hides his face in his hands.

“Captain Aggro, defending my honour,” Stiles chokes out, heaving himself upright. “My champion of love.”

“If you don’t shut up,” Derek warns him, “this bed is going to be your only companion for the next month.”

Or the one where Derek and Stiles are in Hogwarts, and there are shenanigans.

Dead Faint by MaddieStilinski

(1/1 I 29,872 I Not Rated I Sterek)

A few things happened in very quick succession once the potion had left Stiles’ hand. Derek brought it up to his eyes to look at it, shook it a little and uncorked it.

It took Stiles a couple of delayed moments to notice two very important things. The first, being the iridescent colours that danced across the top when Derek shook the potion. The second, that the room had started to spin around him. From very far away, Stiles registered the calming potion in Derek’s hand, transparent where it should have been blue. Derek brought the potion to his lips.

‘Wait-‘ Stiles started. Then, the room still spinning, he collapsed in a dead faint.

Moonwalkers by twinklingpaopufruit

(68/68 I 531,781 I Explicit I Sterek)

Stiles had his entire Seven Years of Hogwarts all planned out:

Prank and Prank Hard. Woo Lydia Martin. Avoid detention and Potions at all cost. Have crazy fun.

Enter brooding werewolf to send this plan to the bottom of the Black Lake.

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #hogwarts au #stydia #lydia martin

[imajinxnation]

Hi! So I have two ideas for request on my mind. I will not ask you to fulfill two requests, I will be glad to read one of them.

So it’s up to you. Love your writing.

1. Constantine teaching Reader a magical skill, creating a heartwarming and intimate moment as they share knowledge and connect on a deeper level.

2. Constantine surprises Reader with a handcrafted magical charm or artifact that he created, imbued with protective and loving enchantments, symbolizing his commitment and affection.

Soft For You

John Constantine(2005) x Reader

SUMMARY // It's your birthday and your boyfriend got you a present.. What could it be??

TW // Fluff, Cussing, Slight Angst..

THIS!!!! I'M SO SOFT FOR HIM AGGGHHHHH!!!!

This is short and sweet cause I couldn't think of any other storyline..

ALL GIFS FROM PINTEREST

Unfortunately, you woke up alone in bed this morning. Great way to start your birthday! You were hoping to get some morning cuddles from your boyfriend, but only felt cold sheets beside you. Seems he had been out of bed for awhile. You went searching your apartment for him, but he was nowhere to be found, no note, no nothing.

Upset, you made yourself breakfast, suddenly not feeling very celebratory about turning a year older. You quickly eat your breakfast before deciding to go for a walk, needing some fresh air, hoping it would keep your mind off your absent boyfriend. On your walk, you noticed a stray cat on top of a trash can. You smiled and walked over cautiously, wanting to see if it was friendly and would let you pet it, luckily it was, and appreciated the pets.

"You know, one day he's gonna tell me when he leaves to do a job and NOT leave me high and dry.." You sigh, realizing you're talking to a fucking cat.

You stop petting the cat and head back to your apartment, the walk wasn't helping with your thoughts. Soon enough, you get back home and open the door.. wait. You locked the door when you left.

"John? You back?" You ask loudly as you close the door behind you.

"Yeah, just... uh, gimme a minute, I'll be right there!" He calls back.

You let out a breath of relief, glad it was just John and not someone who broke in. You set your jacket on the coat rack and left your shoes by the door. You're curious as to what he could be doing right now, and just as your about to head to your bedroom to check on him, he comes out, hands behind his back, as if hiding something.

You tilt your head, curious at what he had in his hands that he was hiding from me.

"Whatcha got there, John?" You gesture to him and what he has behind his back.

"..Nothing.." He replies.

You narrow your eyes at him and launch at him, trying to see what he has that he's acting suspitious about. He moves away and fights back, not letting you see for a second what he has.

"Baby (Girl/Boy), stop it, it's really nothing special!" He laughs, slightly nervous.

"If it's nothing special, then why are you trying so hard to hide it? Is this another one of your artifacts? You usually don't hide them here.." You reach behind him, but he avoids your grasp easily.

"Okay! Here, you can see, Jesus.." He throws the artifact to you. You catch it easily, quick reflexes tested, still working.

It's small and has the shape of a dog whistle, but with a chain and clasp to wear it. You turn it around and notice the markings on it, your thumb feeling the indents of where the metal was carved into.

"It's enchanted with a protection spell.. I enchanted it. Uh, you can also open it and put something inside if you want," he stratches the back of his neck, nervous about your reaction.

"..You made this?" You ask, your eyes flickering from the necklace to your flustered looking boyfriend.

"I just enchanted it and did the engravings, that's all.. Happy Birthday.." He says quietly, embarrassed.

You smile widely when he says those two words, eyes lighting up like a kid on Christmas day. He's not paying attention when you hug him tightly, and end up making him jump from the sudden contact.

"Thank you, Babes, I love it," You tell him.

His eyes soften while you aren't looking, but still, he gives a nonchalant response.

"Yeah, yeah, you fuckin' sap," he says, facial expressions not matching his words, especially as he ruffles your hair. He rolls his eyes, but a soft smile graces his face, relieved you like his gift.

#x reader #john constantine imagine #constantine 2005 #constantine imagine #constantine x reader #john constantine x reader #john constantine #keanu my beloved #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves imagine #keanu reeves #keanuverse #keanu characters #keanu reeves characters #x gn reader #x gender neutral reader #x female reader #x fem!reader #x male reader #john x reader

[cantheykillmacbeth]

every smurf could kill macbeth bc most are delivered by stork and not born + smurfette and sassette were made from clay

Multiple instances of canonically stork-delivered characters have come up now, and I just want to make my stance very clear here: Just because a character was delivered via stork does not necessarily qualify them for the Unconventional Birth Clause. The stork is just the delivery vessel; the character would have had to come from somewhere before that (unless it's explicitly stated otherwise in canon). The carrier pigeon did not write the letter, the person who sent it did.

The Smurfs are indeed delivered to the Smurf Village via stork, though where they are delivered from is an ambiguous and unspecified location. The stork has never been canonically stated to have created the Smurfs, just delivered them. This means that the Smurfs' origins and circumstances of birth are left ambiguous, and thus they do not count toward the UBC or BPC. The only Smurfs delivered by stork that could kill Macbeth would be the women (the Smurf Girls and Nanny were all presumably delivered via stork in the same way as the men).

There are a few special cases, as you mentioned: Smurfette was created by Gargamel out of clay in a failed attempt to disrupt Smurf Village by virtue of her being ((checks notes)) a girl, meaning she applies for all three Clauses. Similarly, Sassette is a female Smurfling that some male Smurflings created based off of Gargmel's spell that was originally used to create Smurfette, meaning Sassette also applies for all three Clauses. Another example is Mermaid Smurfette, who was Gargamel's second attempt at his Smurfette scheme, made in the same way, though this one going awry with her getting a fish tail. She also applies for all three Clauses. Finally, there is also The Hundredth Smurf, who was created magically on accident when lightning struck a mirror being held by the character Vanity, resulting in his reflection coming to life, mirroring all of Vanity's movements and speaking in reverse. This applies him for the Unconventional Birth Clause and Birth Parent Clause.

So, in short: The average Smurf could not kill Macbeth with our current knowledge, though at least 4 specific individual Smurfs can.

Thank you for your submission!

#asks #unconventional birth clause #gender clause #birth parent clause #debatable character #the smurfs #smurfette #smurfs

[nyaskitten]

The FSM Family is like, BEYOND inherently tragic and heartbreaking...

The FSM was said to be born from the ashes of the Oni/Dragon War, and his whole childhood, possibly even further along the road, he was pursued by Oni and Dragon (well for all we know the Dragons stopped after he left the First Realm, but the Oni were still desperate.) He could never escape suffering, he's fought so many battles in his youth that it hardened him, almost as if it stripped him of all emotion and joy.

The FSM had a son, and another son. Both were forced to bear the pain of a father whose gone through so much its made him a terrible man.

Garmadon, his first son, was bitten at a young age by a serpent created (Idk if the Overlord created her but I decided he did) by the incarnation of evil, which brought his darkness to slowly overwhelm him. For millennia, he fought against it, he held it back. He had a wife, and a son, and he was happy, but the temptations overrid him, and he succumbed to them. He tried to steal the weapons, and in return he was struck down to the Underworld, unable to leave without the power of the weapons. Then, when freed, he continued his dark scheming, and went to a realm wherein he could manifest the ability to wield all of the Golden Weapons. In doing so, he brought himself closer to destiny.

When he got his son back from the Serpentine, he left, because through whatever compelling darkness, he could never truly be good. He left, and eventually, he took the weapons, and eventually he became the Overlord's vessel, and then he was freed, and then his brother turned against him for a period of time, and then he sacrificed himself to save Ninjago, and then he was resurrected as this dark, cold, unfeeling monster. He was only the worst parts of him, and now his son can barely even bear to speak to him! All of this suffering has brought him all too far from his family! The ones he once loved!

Wu... oh Wu... he was the favored, pure son of the FSM. The FSM was awful to both sons, but Wu was certainly favored (as evidenced by Garmadon's line in the Pilots which flatout said Wu was always FSM's favorite, and season 8 telling us that FSM kept a lot of shit from Garmadon and he told it to Wu instead.) Wu was from a young age, just constantly being betrayed and abandoned. Betrayed by a serpent he befriended, betrayed by two brothers which he clearly cared about, abandoned by the odd child he took in, and betrayed AND abandoned by his own brother! He spent a couple decades alone, no family, probably no friends either. His brother was gone, he was alone, he knew his brother wouldn't be gone for good, but that didn't stop it from hurting. Additionally, he had the weight on his shoulders of the Green Ninja Prophecy, and the fear of the chance maybe HE was supposed to be the Green Ninja at one point (Book of Spinjitzu,) as well as knowledge of a catastrophic, world-destroying event known which would cause all the realms to come together, and eventually they'd be destroyed!!

Now Lloyd... he was robbed of his childhood and molded into a destiny he didn't deserve. He lost his father, he was possessed by his uncle's former student/Green Ninja wannabe, he lost his uncle in a magic Time Vortex, he fell for a girl, and she was the secret leader of a biker gang/cult which wanted to resurrect his father, TO KILL HIM!!! He watches as the girl he liked dies, the building she was on crumbling to the damn ground! He fucking dies fighting the Oni! And he doesn't choose to rest even though he SHOULD rest! He's been through so much... he needs to just rest... AND THEN his best friend is killed, or so he assumes! Because turns out his friend is actually in another realm and he committed genocide at one point and he has to live with that!

Then he's in a magic videogame and oh would you look at that? He watches two of his friends sacrifice themselves to help him, Jay, and Nya win a race! AND the girl he likes is now a digital manifestation feeding on his guilt and pain! YAY!!!! THEN, Nya merges with the sea, and he's devastated, he's broken! He quits, not wanting to be responsible for anyone ever again. Then the girl he likes is revealed to have been resurrected by the Overlord, in a council of villains, and he has to tap into his Oni side, a side he fears due to how he can only see it as his father, someone he's TERRIFIED of becoming! And then he like, loses all his friends for approx 5 years and lives in isolation, and has no clue where any of them could possibly be so. YAY!!!!

#long post #ninjago #ninjago dragons rising #raine's rambles #ninjago spoilers #OH THAT WAS SOO MUCH TO WRITE HOLY SHIT #my bday is tmrw btwwww . idk why that matters 2 this post LMAO