#china plays her to perfection and she's one of the few reasons why i want to give d4 a chance

[epickiya722]

I'm gonna be honest, I don't see how anyone can hate Uma. Like, she eats up every single scene she's in, she delivers great lines, "What's My Name" is one of the best songs overall (any time she sings and dances I have to just watch her, she definitely embodies how captivating merfolk are) and I'm not arguing on that, her motives for wanting to take down the barrier wasn't even for her. She wanted to help the kids. Uma's whole character is just amazing!

Ask me who is the Queen of the Isle, it's her.

#china plays her to perfection and she's one of the few reasons why i want to give d4 a chance #I swear of they do her dirty... #just kiya's thoughts #uma #uma descendants #disney descendants #descendants #sea three #sea 3 #china anne mcclain

[s-b-party]

Lagenaria: Baizhu and the Calabash

****Spoilers ahead especially for Baizhu story quest & Chenyu Vale!!

Forget about the longest time a character had to wait for a rerun, this man had to wait TWO years to finally get his first banner ever after his early introduction in the game but at least he’s here now 😂

Today we will be talking about Baizhu but we also can’t forget about Changsheng who has a strong presence in both his lore & constellation

So what is Lagenaria? The name comes from a combination of lagena which can mean bottle or flask in Latin & -aria which can sometimes be used as the suffix of plants’ scientific names; Lagenaria is the genus w/ a number of species referring to vines that generally produce gourds

The calabash (aka bottle gourd, long melon, birdhouse gourd, white-flowered gourd, etc) is one of the more well-known species of the Lagenaria genus

When we look at some examples of the plant itself, it makes sense why it’s compared to a bottle (keep in mind not all of them look like bottles)

These gourds have been used to hold liquids (i.e. water & medicine) even in ancient times

In China, the calabash was often seen as a symbol for health due to it being a container for something to help sustain life

Looking at Baizhu, the calabash makes perfect sense as his constellation since doctors are meant to help cure illnesses; however there is also the irony that he can’t get rid of his perpetual cough even as a doctor but understandably so due to his unique situation as someone in a contract w/ Changsheng

As we learn in Baizhu’s story quest, in exchange for his lifeforce, Changsheng provides him the ability to absorb illnesses from others & thus cure them

I’ve already alluded to Changsheng’s presence in the constellation as the snake that’s coiled around the calabash but there’s more to it than just her being Baizhu’s contractor

In terms of symbolism, although they are sometimes viewed as mysterious and/or evil, snakes in Chinese culture are also sometimes believed to be symbols of good fortune, luck, and health which can be attributed to their ability to shed their skin, getting rid of old/bad things thus revitalizing one’s health; as we’ll see, Changsheng has strong connections to medicine & health

In the Chenyu Vale world quest involving Fujin, there are hints heavily implying that Changsheng is Herblord; aside from the fact that Herblord was described as a white snake who was friends with Fujin & Lingyuan, it is mentioned that she was knowledgeable about medicine & she could heal any illness

At one point of the world quest, Fujin meets Little Mao & due to his unique scent, she asks him if he met someone from the mountains w/ red eyes to which he responded no since he only knew Lingyuan from the mountains but we know she doesn’t have red eyes

There are very few in Liyue who fit the bill of red eyes but interestingly Changsheng‘s eyes weren’t always red; the mural that we find of her depicted w/ Fujin in her abode located in Yaodie Valley can attest to this

We can see in the mural that her eyes appear golden; Changsheng has golden eyes when the first predecessor was searching for Herblord in the cutscene that plays in Baizhu’s story quest

Even w/ Baizhu, her eyes are golden & it’s Baizhu whose eyes are red instead only until he enters into a contract w/ Changsheng

Taking this into account, it would imply that Fujin referring to red eyes instead of gold means that she’s aware of Changsheng being in a contract w/ someone or at least she has certain circumstances at the moment causing her eyes to be red

Out of the trio of friends, Fujin & Herblord were the ones closest to humanity so it is not surprising that Herblord would reside w/ humans in Liyue after having fought against her former master (probably the reason why she was initially weakened & resting in the cutscene)

The last hint that I want to point out is that in the cutscene, Changsheng tells Baizhu that if the contract were to end without a successor, she would spend her final moments napping on Mt. Yaojun; we don’t actually see Mt. Yaojun on the map & the closest thing would probably be Yaodie Valley

It turns out that Herblord when translated is Yào Jūn so I assume the mountain is just where she lived

As we’ve seen, her abode is located underground of Yaodie Valley; Yaodie can be translated to Medicine/Healing Butterfly which is fitting bc when we look inside the abode, there are notes that we can find nearby that mention butterflies being injected w/ adeptal energy, hence the several butterflies in the abode

Going back to Baizhu, we know that his goal is to be the last person to be in a contract w/ Changsheng; as a result, he’s trying to obtain immortality so that he can still continue to help others without subjecting another person to the contract which would take away their life force

Immortality is a common topic when it comes to health & it is no exception in Baizhu’s story quest; there are some instances where it is mentioned

For instance, we see Xiao in the quest & he tells Baizhu that immortality is not the blessing that he imagines it to be; when Jiangliang ends up dying in the end, Baizhu has a concoction called an Elixir of Immortality but it doesn’t exactly make Jiangliang immortal…instead it makes him stuck in a state between life & death & he becomes similar to Qiqi; at the end Changsheng mentions in passing that even the old gods struggled with obtaining “true” immortality…

I do wonder, if he is successful, how Baizhu will obtain immortality but also does immortality truly exist when gods themselves can also die in this world? Only time will tell how his story will unfold 👀

#genshin impact #genshin lore #genshin spoilers #genshin constellations #genshin baizhu #genshin changsheng #chenyu vale

[mbb-project-entity]

Chapter 1

Mortimer & A New FOB

Kyubi pulled her car up a nice driveway to a large house in a modest residential area, opposite the house Denzel and Candice Remington lived in. She sat in her car for a few minutes, pondering her next move. Sure, she could go straight in to the Remington home, see if ‘Kandii’ was crying her eyes out at the news of her husband or had already started getting her things together, but with a family of at least four more in there to play with, she would need a base of operations for now, and this house opposite looked like it could accommodate her quite well while she watched them to see what would be the best way to warp their lives. She opened the car door and and started to walk towards the door, the clicking sound of her heels on the brick drive could be heard as she opened the door, not even worrying if anyone was home.

"Who the devil are you" shouted the occupant, a man in a clearly expensive suit. "Some people certainly call me a devil, but you can call me Kyubi. And you are?" "Uh.. Mortimer. Mortimer Giles." he replied a little unsure at this beautiful stranger in front of him. "Well Morty, you are not needed here. I don't know much about you, and already have my eyes set on a family. It just so happens your house lets me spy on them. You unfortunately just happen to be in the way. So here's what you're going to do. For Me. I assume you work seeing as you live in a neighbourhood like this? Well, you can go ahead and call your boss telling him you want to quit your job. Then I want you to go all the way to China and jump a cliff in the middle of nowhere. You will live out your last days suffering and defenceless to the wild animals out there for no reason other than to amuse me. If you do somehow survive you will kill yourself anyway immediately. You will leave a note on your person stating that you were unhappy with your life. Now leave. And all the best darling"

Kyubi peered through her new house window. She saw Candice and decided to actually speak to her in person. It was always more fun for her to see the person she was talking to.

Candice knew she had a lot to do. She’d have to quit her job at the coffee shop. Bye, bye to that stupid little place with the pitiful income it gave her. Her life would need some reorganisation, but she’d have so much more time to be the real her now, she just knew it. She was looking forward to that. And the hot, hot idea of sex that she was going to bepaid to have.

Well, I felt soooo bad about what happened with Officer Denzel I thought I’d come and help you out. You know, as we were drinking buddies, I guess you could say I feel partially responsible for what happened to him, she said with a barely straight face. Now, I know you wanna be a stripper in the big city, but just in case you have a reputation here among the community, I thought some people here might still want to hire you. So, I wrote you up some resumes this morning and sent the to pretty much every business in town. You’ll love what they say.

“Um, why, what did you write?” asked Candice, wondering why Kyubi had even bothered, she knew she didn’t want a nice little job like that dull one at the restaurant any more.

“Let’s see,” said Kyubi as she held up a spare resume, “‘Employment: The Silver Leaf Coffe Shop, June 2008 to April 2011. Reason for leaving: was fired for stealing company property, poor hygiene and unprofessional image, and performing oral sex with customers in the toilets.’ Isn’t it perfect for you?

Kyubi sat next to her and put her arm around her. “With a CV like that you’ll soon become a stripper, but until you start getting paid you need to cut costs now you’re a single parent.”

Candice leaned her head on Kyubi’s shoulder. “What can I do?”

“OK, first thing tomorrow, rent a moving van and put all of your clothes and every knick-knack, wall hanging, end table and anything you can carry in it and donate it to charity. You need the tax write off for next year. Keep some underwear, bras and stuff. The rest of your clothes we can replace for your new job. Get rid of all of your dishes and cooking stuff except for one bowl, plate, knife fork, pot, and stuff. Get as big of a donation and thus tax break as possible.”

“Yeah,” said Candice between sniffles, “that sounds good.”

“Yes, also you can no longer afford car insurance or a car note.”

“My car’s paid off,” said Candice.

“But there’s still gas, insurance, upkeep and stuff,” said Kyubi. “Look, I’ll tell you what I’ll do for you. I’ll find a notary public. You transfer your car title to me. I can barely afford it, but I’ll take your car off of your hands. You pay me for the cost of putting the title in my name of course. You can use public transporation.”

“Thanks Kyubi. You’d do that for me?”

“Yes, of course. It won’t be easy on me, but it’s the least I can do.”

“You’re such a lifesaver!” said Candice.

They then went to a notary public and Candice signed her sporty convertible over to Kyubi and gave her $300 to cover the cost of the title transfer at the DMV. Then they went to get Candice’s name changed legally to Kandii. Eventually they made their way back to the Remington’s townhouse.

By the afternoon, everything but the furniture too big for Kandii to move by herself was gone.

“Do you own or rent?” asked Kyubi.

“Rent.”

“Good,” said Kyubi, “we need to find you a cheaper place to live. How much money do you have?”

“About $900 in checking and a couple thousand in savings.”

“OK, I’ll take tomorrow off and find you a cheaper place to live.”

“You’d do that for me?” asked Kandii.

“Yes, you need a lifesaver!”

Kandii hugged Kyubi.

”I’ll come by early and help you get ready. I’ll help you do the some sexy makeup just like the trashy stripper you want to be, and tease your hair up big, REALLY big! Big hair is sexy hair, and the bigger the sexier.”

Kyubi did her hair and make up. She teased up Kandii’s hair as high as she could get it then applied a thick layer of blue-green eyeshadow, pink blush, and bright red lipstick.

Kyubi drove Kandii in her former car to the truck stop. It was a large sprawling complex with a diner, store, showers, and a laundry. Dawn followed Wendy into the diner.

“Now I another suprise. Your new digs. Great news, I found you much cheaper place to live!””

A quarter mile down the road from the strip joint was a dusty trailer park. Kyubi pulled up outside a very small mobile home with a for sale sign in front.

“It’s perfect for you,” said Kyubi, “One bedroom, one bath, so utilities will be low, and it’s only $3000, which is pretty much what you have left. I met with the owner, and he agreed to take whatever furniture you have left at home too to get the price down and take it off your hands since don’t have room for it. He left a twin sized bed in the bedroom and couch and coffee table in the living room. It’s all you need, and there’s something else!”

They got out of the car. Kandii stared at her new home, and Kyubi went around back. She came back wheeling a bicycle besides her. It was girl’s model with a banana seat and plastic basket on the front with plastic tassells hanging from the handle bars. “It’s the largest one I could find,” said Kyubi, “It’s perfect for you. You’re only about a quarter mile down the service road from work. There’s a bus stop a half a mile down the other way in front of a convenience store. This bike means low upkeep and NO gas. It’s PERFECT for you!”

Kandii blinked a few times. “Yeah, you’re right,” she said, “perfect.”

“OK, I got you a bike lock too. We sign the papers for the transfer tomorrow at 9:00 am. I’ll pick you up at 8:30. Have your remaining things packed.

Kandii locked the bike to the rail of the steps leading up to the trailer.

The next day, Kandii bought the trailer. The twin bed and couch were old, and the coffee table was lopsided. Kyubi and Kandii sat on the couch, which sagged terribly.

“OK, I’ve got some more cost savings idead. Drop the gym membership. the bike will give you exercise. Get the cheapest cell phone deal: you just need it for emergencies. No home phone, no cable or sattelite, and buy the cheapest make up you can find. It’s all the same, and by the way, you look super sexy in blue-green eyeshadow, pink blush, and bright red lipstick.”

Kandii smiled.

“Oh, another thing, do you like my hair?”

“Yes, it looks very nice as usual.”

“I dye it and cut it myself. I use the cheapest coloring since it’s all the same myself. After all cutting hair is not rocket science.”

“Really?”

“Yep. How much do you spend on a trip to the salon?”

“$150 or so,” said Kandii.

“See, that’s way too much,” said Kyubi. She reached into her purse and pulled out a pair of shears. “Put your hair in a pony tail and pull it over your shoulder.”

Kandii put her hair in a pony tail and pulled it over her shoulder.

Kyubi handed Kandii the shears. “Cut off the bottom two inches. Trust me; it’s easy.”

Kandii took the scissors and looked at her hair. Then she slowly hacked off about two inches from the bottom of the pony tail.

“Perfect!” said Kyubi. Take down your pony tail and turn around.

Kandii did as she was told. Kyubi saw Kandii’s hair was a bit jagged, and she smiled.

“Just do that once every four months or so,” said Kyubi, “And here’s another money saving tip: shave off your eyebrows and pencil them in. That way you don’t have to pay to get them waxed.”

“Really?” asked Kandii as she ran a finger over one of her eyebrows.

“Trust me,” said Kyubi. She reached into her purse and pulled out shaving cream and a razor. She took Kandii into the bathroom and shaved off her eyebrows. She then took a dark brown eyebrow pencil and drew two flattened upside down v’s over Kandii’s eyes. “Perfect! Take a look. You’ll love it!”

Kandii looked in the mirror over the sink. She looked at her reflection for a moment then smiled. “You’re right; it is perfect!”

“Yep, now let’s finish your hair and make-up then I’ll get your uniform. I picked it up yesterday evening.”

Kyubi took a large bottle of aerosol hair spray and a long-toothed comb and teased up Kandii’s hair as high as possible. “Dye it platinum blonde tomorrow, and remember, cheap hair color is just as good as the high price stuff, dye it as often as you cut it. Don’t worry about the roots showing, and never forget, the bigger your hair, the sexier.”

When Kyubi was finished, Kandii’s hair was huge. She looked like a teenaged Texas beauty pageant contestant from the 80s.

Kyubi then did Kandii’s make-up.

“If a man comes on to you, see if you can talk him into letting you give him a hand job fo $5 or a blowjob for $10. Now you’re ready for work. You look so hot! Remember, work hard and do what you’re told, be flirty and ditzy with the customers and fellow employees.”

“OK, thank you so much, Kyubi, you ARE a lifesaver!”

Kyubi walked Kandii outside and watched her get on her bike. The bike was too small for an adult, and Kandii’s knees pointed away from her body. Anyone standing in front of her would get an upskirt shot. She l pedalled off, awarkldy at first then off down the shoulder of the service road, her teased up hair catching the wind.

Kyubi laughed and walked back to her car.

[someprettysweet]

cool thoughts bro

one of my current interests right now is to be in a band or to create one. i don't even know when/how to start. let me explain why. recently, i've been listening to a lot of local indie bands and i realised how good local music is and it kinda sparked an inspiration inside of me. it's some type of drive in me which believes i can do it. i don't know, listening to those types of music (listening to one now and the lyrics just repeat "why are you scared? there's no need to be scared") and hearing that people my age are in bands or just started bands kinda make me feel like why not me. i can play guitar, drums, bass and piano. i do want to learn wind instruments and i can't sing to save my life but that's besides the point. always thought of making a one man band cause i kinda hate being at the back and i do want to show that i can do it all (most probs a sharing issue). but i was thinking about it for live shows. i've made songs. i've made a song called 'today,, tonight,, tomorrow' and all my friends loved it. released it on soundcloud hoping it would draw attention and didn't get any. i don't know what i'm waiting for. maybe it's my friend in china who has the exact same music taste as me. or maybe i'm waiting for some random person to ask me to join their band. maybe i should just make my own songs and see where that leads me.

my perfect band would be a lead woman singer who plays guitar or bass (i would really like it if she played bass), followed by a lead man guitarist who would do crazy solos, i would be the rhythm guitarist. that would be the first front three. at the back there'll be a cool woman drummer and lastly a guy who plays piano and the trumpet. i like when wind instruments are added to live performances so if i learnt how to play one by then i would join in. i would want our group to be completely equal, split 5 ways. i was thinking about a few cool names. fairview greens, dudes in dresses (doesn't really work), le façon (the way in french) and a lot more. idk i really want one of those indie names like wet leg, back seat restraint or car seat headrest. the friend i have in china and i were thinking of becoming a duo like her's. we had a cool ass name. we were called 'CHARR'D MAPLES'. tell me thats not indie enough and i'll slap you. i love that name but i don't reckon we'll become a duo cause although his music taste is like mine i don't think we'll see eye to eye a lot.

a reason why i don't think i could be in a band as well is cause i've realised i'm very rigid. i like to do things my way especially when it comes to music. i tried making music with my friends and i just don't like it. maybe it's cause i'm stubborn or maybe it's cause i'm just not cut out for it. who knows

#indie bands

[purpleyellow]

Happy bacon

Seventeen 14th member

Hayun’s masterlist

“Hayun and DK have a sweet breakfast talk during In the soop”

Requested by: anon    

a/n: Feel free to share your thoughts with me.💙

For the first days after Seventeen arrived at the forest, Hayun had kept herself busy with resting and hanging out wherever the boys were. Her toned down routine, helped the girl recharge quite fast and just around the third day, she was the first one to wake up and decided to take her time at the gym, first thing in the morning.

Finishing her first set of exercises, Hayun stepped outside to help her catch her breath and enjoy the scenery for a few minutes. Just then, the door from one of the houses opened up, and from a very sleepy DK dragged himself out.

“Dokyeom-ah” She waved, excited about the sight of the boy, who could barely open his eyes because of the sun.

“Why are you out here?”  He mumbled once they were at arm’s reach of each other and Hayun pulled him into a hug. Almost immediately, Dokyeom pushed her away, “You’re all sweaty”.

“My bad” Laughing, the girl ruffled his hair, “Do you want to get some breakfast? I can make some pancakes or like a sandwich”.

“That sounds good” DK nodded, and she started making her way to the kitchen with him trailing behind. Looking at the sky, she hummed satisfied, “It’s a really beautiful day”.

“I’m not complaining or anything, but is there a reason why you got up so happy today?” Sitting at the wooden table, the boy asked while watching her happily striding to the freezer.

“Not really” Shrugging, Hayun analyzed the food before deciding to make some standard eggs and bacon sandwich for both of them. “I’m just in a good mood, I guess”

“Well, it’s a little annoying. Could you please tone it down?”

She laughed, aware he wasn’t being serious, and started buttering the frying pan, “If I make you the best American breakfast you’ve ever had, will you forgive me for being so happy?”

“I’m not Shua Hyung or anything, but I’m sure you can’t just add bacon to whatever and call it American” He joked, making her gaze sternly at him. Raising one hand, DK nodded intimidated, “I’m sorry”.

Hayun chuckled endeared, and shook her head while maneuvering the food around the kitchen. They fell silent for a couple of minutes while she finished cooking, which led him to rest his head against the table and snooze off while listening to the soft sound of things frying.

Getting brought back to reality, DK felt the girl’s hand playing with his hair, and once he raised his head again, a plate was placed in front of him.

“Wow, that looks perfect” He mumbled with a dazed look on his face that made Hayun laugh. “Thank you for making it”

“You’re welcome” She took one sandwich and watched expectantly as he bit the other one, “So, am I free to be happy now?”

“You can gate keep happiness for yourself, for all that I care” Dokyeom’s face portrayed his satisfaction while he took another bite and hummed in ecstasy once again. Looking slightly more awake, he turned a little apologetic to her, “You know I was joking earlier, right?”

“Of course, dummy. Don’t worry about it”.

“No, but I really appreciate that you’re in a good mood. You always portray yourself in a good mood, it’s just really nice being able to see that it’s truly genuine” Holding her hand over the table, he gave her a squeeze.

“Thank you, baby” Hayun returned his smile and the boy kept going in a lower tone. By his voice, she knew the editors would most likely cut out this part of their conversation.

“I know you’ve been having a rough time since Jackson Hyung left for China, even though you don’t like to show it. You know you can count on us for these stuff too”.

“I know, you guys helped me a lot once again. Thank you for worrying about me”.

“Thank you for making me food”

#Hayun #seventeen 14th member #seventeen au #seventeen addition #seventeen female member #seventeen female addition #seventeen female oc #Seventeen Additional Member #svt 14th member #14th member of seventeen #seventeen x 14th member #kpop addition #kpop female member #kpop female oc #kpop female addition

[mysmegrace]

i recently installed mystic messenger again after like a month or more of not playing (was afraid of someone finding the game in my phone) , and it felt good to "see" the characters again , so can i please request headcanons of the rfa seeing mc after a long time ?

hello, that's completely understandable lol. i remember back in 2016 when i played it the first time around (i deleted it after the first bad ending and didn't play again until 2019 lol) and was worried people would look on my phone and see it. oh how times have changed lol. but of course!

RFA Seeing MC After a Long Time

---

yoosung kim:

you attended the rfa party during the last summer you had before going to college.

life was looking up for you.

you found an amazing boyfriend, started becoming independent, and got a good summer job.

things only got better when you found out you had gotten accepted to college.

only problem was that the college was in the US, and your friends and lover were in South Korea.

as much as you loved your new life here, you reminded yourself of your feelings before meeting the rfa.

how everything you created here would only be temporary.

but now, you didn’t want to stick to that anymore.

your life was going so well, and you knew yoosung wouldn’t be happy about you leaving to go across the globe.

however, it was too good of an opportunity to let it go.

this was what you were to planning to do for the last decade.

if you were to give up now, all your hard work would be for nothing.

you were incredibly conflicted, but eventually choose to follow your passion at college overseas.

and yoosung was frantic about it.

he wouldn’t be able to see you, protect you, help you, feed you, walk with you, the list went on.

however as he’s gotten more mature over the past few days, he knew he didn’t have the power to stop you, nor should he guilt you about it.

besides, he wanted you to pursue something you were passionate in and become successful.

some sacrifices would just have to be made.

that didn’t mean he would let you go either.

the two of you made a promise to call, facetime, and visit each other as often as possible.

you’d make it work.

so with much regret, you left to the states.

and when the holidays approached, you decided to bring yourself to him as a gift.

it had been months since he saw you at this point.

you both could enjoy the holidays together while relaxing.

it was a win win.

and what better way to carry out your surprise than by showing up to his front door at 10pm?

and that’s exactly what you did.

giving the door a good few knocks, you waited until you were greeted by yoosung standing in his unwashed pajamas, staring at you.

it took a few seconds for it to click who you are, yet once that processed, he was overcome with joy.

you thought it was adorable how his hands flew to his face as he began to pull you into a hug shortly after.

you were met with only parts of words as yoosung couldn’t explain his excitement fast enough.

and you were ecstatic as well.

you never realized how much you missed him until you were reunited with him again.

hence why after you two spent the holidays together, you found it incredibly difficult to leave again.

however with his encouragement, you went off to work your hardest so he could meet a successful you the next time you reunited.

hyun ryu / zen:

much like zen, you were an actor too.

you were a much lesser known actress, but you had began building connections.

and those connections all paid off when you were offered a new role in a movie that was predicted to be going big.

you couldn’t be more grateful.

yet as you began reading farther into the offer, your heart slowly sunk.

if you were to take the role, you would have to relocate to germany for the next 9 months.

you wanted this so bad, but you didn’t want to leave zen alone for 9 months.

he if could, he would join you in germany.

but he already had a role to work on in south korea.

as much as you wanted him to join you, you didn’t want him to give up his role he had been working so hard on for the past year.

you were conflicted, and knew it would be best to talk about it to zen.

not only to see what he thinks, but to ease your feelings.

and once you had the discuss about it with you, you came to a conclusion.

you would could, keeping in contact with him everyday.

though zen was heartbroken about it, he knew how much you wanted this and how much this would advance your career.

so with a heavy heart, he sent you off.

the moment you left on the plane, he was already longing for your reunion.

9 months never went by so slow.

when you were with him, there was never enough time to bask in each others love.

but without him, everyday had an extra 8 hours.

even though you were working 24/7, time stayed still for days on end.

yet when the production ended a month early, all your worries and stresses eased as you could finally reunite with your love in person.

without thinking, you packed all your stuff up once you got back to your trailer to get the next plane back to seoul.

you hadn’t even thought to tell zen until you boarded the plane.

too late now though, as you weren’t aloud your phone on the plane.

what an idiotic rule, you thought.

but perhaps it was better this way, as you could surprise zen with your return sooner than expected.

you gave into the tiredness that followed you around for the months prior, awakening to the speaker saying you’ve landed.

in your half awake state, you got off the plane and called for a cab.

it only took an hour to reach your destination, in which you got more sleep on the way there.

you thanked the driver before heading out, practically running to the front door.

you knocked, hoping to make zen believe you were only a door salesman or a mailman.

you heard some footsteps approaching behind the door in a hurried state, before the door opened and you were greeted with your future husband.

his expression changed in the speed of light once he quickly realized who you were.

you were met with a tight embrace, doubting if you could breath for a second.

zen pulled away not too long after, his excitement getting to him as he said “i didn’t think you were supposed to be home so soon!”

to that, you could only giggle as you admitted the reason behind your surprise.

zen was more than happy to see you home earlier than discussed before.

“this day is too important, we have to do something now!” zen said as he got dressed up to go out in the christmas weather.

with a small laugh, you agreed.

the rest of your day was spent going out to cafes and buying presents for the other rfa members.

and to your luck, the movie turned out a huge success.

not only in germany, but in korea as well.

things worked out for the best, you thought.

but one thing was for sure, you weren’t doing that again.

jaehee kang:

jaehee had brought up the idea of opening a cafe, to which you were 100% in on.

however, in korea you had to have a culinary certificate to own a cafe.

i dont know if thats legit or not i completely made that up

but if you had to get a certificate, you were going to get it in the best way you could.

and a college you had come across was perfect for that.

it was a good price and had a great reputation.

there was one problem however, and that was that it was located in france.

which was a 12 hour flight away from seoul.

you knew there was no opportunity like it, but you couldn’t stop yourself from being on the edge about it.

you didn’t want to leave your friends and family here for 2 years while you went off to another country on your own.

plus who knew if something would happen to you while you were aboard?

your concerns were slightly lessened after you brought up your worries to jaehee, and the encouragement she gave you was overwhelming.

she suggested for you to go for it and that she would hold everything down in seoul while helping the rfa in planning future parties.

on the upside, it would give her more time to save up more money for the opening just in cause it was needed.

with hesitation, you decided to go along with her words and study in france for some time.

you would miss each other, but you both knew it was what you two needed to ensure a sucessful future.

while you were aboard, jaehee would attend culinary classes in korea here and there.

you would keep in contact frequently, but never had the money to go back to seoul on holidays to reunite.

so once those two years had passed, you were out as fast as possible.

you loved france, but you loved your girlfriend more.

you hopped on the plane home, eager to see everyone again.

and once you arrived at the airport in seoul, the first thing you saw as you exited the plane was your girlfriend standing there, eyes focused on the doorway waiting for your arrival.

and once your eyes met, you were quick to run up to her while opening your arms to hug her strongly.

two years was such a long time to be apart, but all was well now.

shortly after, the two of you opened the cafe and were met with an incredible amount of support from the community and rfa.

now you were content to settle down in seoul with the love of your life.

jumin han:

you were very business driven, which jumin liked about you.

even having your own fashion company.

you were unlike many other women he had come across before in various ways.

but the downside to your business focused mind were your frequent business trips.

some would last a day while others would last a week.

though this recent one you were expected to take was unlike anything you had ever had to do before for work.

it suggested you stayed in china for a month as you worked out many business issues and proposals.

while your company had began trending recently, you had never expected this.

the first thing that came to your mind once reading the email was your husband.

you felt horrible when you had to leave him alone for a day, but a month?

you couldn’t even imagine how much that would hurt him.

however, this wasn’t something you could just refuse.

if you did, you weren’t sure if your company would continue standing.

and so later that night, you told jumin everything over wine.

how you didn’t want to but knew your company wouldn’t survive without it.

he didn’t know what to make of everything.

this came at the worst timing.

he needed to stay in korea for the time being for business, so he couldn’t join you in china either.

reluctantly, he supported you in your travels.

he understood your situation, but made you promise to call him every night.

which you had no problem with.

and so with a sad smile, you had left a few days later.

things were frustrating in beijing, but you at least had the comfort of your husbands voice to fall asleep to.

everyone at the office noticed jumins shift in mood as soon as your left.

yet without a voice of concern, things carried on as if nothing happened.

the day you were set to come back, jumin cancelled all plans to spend the day with you.

you needed to make up for the time the two of you lost, and you needed to rest in the comfort of your own home again.

thankfully, your company didn’t meet it’s downfall just yet.

in fact, it was now prospering.

saeyoung choi:

your day was going as it normally would.

well, as normal as a day with saeyoung can go.

yet it all changed when you got a call that your brother had gotten into a bad car accident, and the situation wasn’t looking good.

you didn’t know how to react, so many emotions and fears were overwhelming you.

you knew you were your brothers emergency contact, as he had no one else close to him in his life, so it was no question about why they called you while you were in seoul and he was in brazil.

but after learning about the situation, you quickly realized that you needed to get back to brazil as soon as possible.

they didn’t know how long he had left, and the remainder of his days would require for him to get help to do everyday things.

with your eyes barely spilling over, you told saeyoung everything.

you were met with a hug as he comforted you.

when you brought up the fact of needing to leave, he didn’t think twice before giving you his blessing (though he knew you didn’t need it).

it would be hard on him because he wouldn’t be able to join you as he was in an active mission, but he would keep in touch and make sure of your safety from countries away.

after all, he would do the same if saeran were in your brothers position.

the next day, you backed your flight to brazil, packing only what you needed.

your days in brazil passed in pain, as you watched your brother fight for his life daily.

until one day, his body gave up on him and he passed.

you were devastated.

you were on autopilot in public and breaking down in your hotel room when no one was around.

after attending your brothers funeral and a week of mourning, you began to book your ticket back to seoul.

yet in your state of heart ache, you didn’t realize the change in the countries health as the coronavirus started running through every town in the nation.

planes were unavailable and travel was banned.

now you were stuck here for the next 6 months, always hopping the next month would be better and you’d finally be able to go home.

saeyoung was on his toes all the time, not feeling the same without you.

and you missed him more and more as the days went on.

when the time finally came, you rushed to buy a ticket, though most people weren’t flying due to their fears surrounding the situation.

the plane was empty, allowing you to sneak your phone, sending a text to saeyoung.

“i’m on the plane home now” you typed.

saeyoung was overcome with joy to see your message.

though you had to isolate for 14 days, at least you were in the country and close to him.

once you got off the plane, went into isolation, and tested negative for covid, you ran to your shared home.

opening the door to be greeted with the same old smile that teased you every morning was a refreshing sight.

you ran up as he lifted you in a tight embrace, swaying you side to side in a wave of excitement.

after months of stress and anxiety, you could finally breath.

that realization alone was enough to make you burst out into tears of relief.

your feelings were contagious, as you saw saeyoungs eyes starting to water as well.

you were finally safe and sound in his protection, and that was all he could’ve asked for..

---

01:51 AST - 09/01/21

#mystic messenger #mysme #juminhan #jumin #jumin x mc #707 #saeyoung choi #saeyoung x mc #luciel choi #yoosung x mc #yoosung kim #zen #hyun ryu #jaehee kang #jaehee x mc #mystic messenger headcanons

[parkersroses]

1:32 AM | harry styles.

summary: a series of moments in yours and Harry’s life together that seemed to occur around 1:32 AM.

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader

word count: 3.6k words

warning(s): nothing but fluff with a bit of husband!/dad!harry

a/n: (disclaimer: gif is not mine and belongs to @harryisart) hope y’all like this! i thought it was a cute concept. reblogs/feedbacks are very much appreciated <3

It was half past midnight.

You couldn’t sleep and it was practically driving you insane. You blame yourself for having a last minute coffee before bed. So stupid, you thought.

You tossed and turned in bed, drank some water, even tried counting sheeps; but to no avail, you could not get a wink of sleep. You sighed, thinking of ways to get yourself to sleep; you were lucky that tomorrow - well, today - was Saturday. 

You grabbed your phone from your nightstand, groaning as the bright light from the screen hurt your eyes. You scrolled through your contacts to find the number you were looking for. Harry.

You stared at the contact photo he personally set, your thumb hovering on the call button. You remembered the day you took the picture. It was the both of you lying on the hammock he had at his house. You were all cuddled up and he thought it would make a great picture. So, he snapped a few pictures, some of them which you both pretended to be asleep for the joke of it. 

You smiled at the memory but remembered why you wanted to call him. You hit the call button and waited for his response. 

You heard the line being picked up. “Hello?” you heard Harry say, his voice hoarse and deep from the sleep he had woken up to. 

“Hi, Harry,” you said softly, a sheepish grin on your face appeared. Harry chuckled on the phone. “‘Ello, love. Any reason you woke me up at nearly one in the morning?”

You buried your face in your pillow in embarrassment, grateful how he couldn’t see you right now. “Couldn’t sleep. Was wondering if you could help tired me out or somethin’,” you said sheepishly. 

Harry laughed at this. His girlfriend, his silly, lovely, and beautiful girlfriend, waking him up just to ask for sleeping advice. If he was being honest, he actually liked the fact that she called him. It gave him the excuse to go visit and cuddle with her. At this point, he should’ve just asked her to move in with him. 

“Hmm,” he hummed as he got up to grab a shirt and a pair of sweatpants.

“Hmm?” He heard you copied back. 

“I can think of ways to tire you out, love,” he said teasingly, and he could imagine the blush on your face. “Harry,” you whined, prolonging the ‘Y’. He chuckled at her. “What? I’m just saying I got a lot of options,” he said innocently as he grabbed the keys. 

Your eyebrows furrowed at the sound of keys being picked up. “Wait, what are you doing, H?” you asked as you sat up on the bed. “On my way to tire you out, love,” he said casually as he locked his door. 

“Harry, no. You don’t have to come over. Just stay at home, and I don’t know, talk me to sleep or something?” you said questionably. You didn’t actually think he would get up and walk out the door just to visit you because you couldn’t sleep. “Where’s the fun in not visiting my girlfriend in the middle of the night? Besides, I might stopped by somewhere to buy some snacks,”

“Harry, I don’t think-,” You’re cut off by the sound of his car starting.

“Sorry, love. Engine’s too loud. See you in a bit. Bye!” he said quickly, prolonging his ‘bye’ as he hung up. You stared at your phone in disbelief, scoffing at Harry’s childish behaviour as you put your phone on the nightstand. 

You might as well wait for your loving boyfriend to come help you sleep. 

“You know you didn’t have to come over,” you said as you sat by the island, watching Harry put away the bags of snacks he managed to buy. He scoffed in response. “And what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t attend to my girlfriend’s call for help?” he said dramatically. 

He walked over and gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead as he hugged you. You sighed happily into his chest as you breathed in his faint cologne. “So, what are we going to do?” You asked, your voice muffled against his shirt. 

He unwrapped his arms and proceeded to pull you with him to your room. “We’re going to watch The Notebook because you tend to fall asleep halfway through the film, nearly every time,” he said sarcastically. You were about to object that statement but realised that he did have a point. “Hmm, fair point,” you said, sitting on your bed as he set up the movie. 

“Scoot over, bubs,” he said as he walked over to the other side of your bed. You cuddle on his side as the movie started to play. 

“Harry,” you said, looking up to his face. “Hmm?” he hummed as he looked at you. 

“I love you,” you said, feeling a little blush forming on your cheeks. It was the first time you said those words to him, nevertheless, you couldn’t be more sure of loving him. Harry smiled at you, his dimple making an appearance. “I love you, too,” he said, leaning down to give you a gentle kiss. 

And he was right. Nearly halfway through the movie, you already sound asleep. He paused the movie and switched off the television as he adjusted your position on the bed. 

It was 1:32 AM when you both fell asleep together. 

❊

You were sitting on the kitchen floor with Harry. Boxes of plates, cups and other kitchen appliances surrounded you. Some were filled with porcelain and China dishes that you might not even use and instead just put them on display.

You both finally did it. You finally moved in together. It did take a lot of Harry convincing you about it, but with his impossibly good way of charming you, you managed to give in. 

You found a moderate-sized house, nothing too big and fancy but nothing too small either. The thing that sold you the most was the amazing backyard, complete with a pool and large space for outdoor activities. It was perfect to the both of you. 

You were still in the process of putting everything in place. The bedroom was the first to get done, mainly because Harry was excited to make love to you as many times in your new home. It felt really good to call it that.

It was already late, nearly one. You were tired to say the least but you wanted to put things in their places as much as possible because you couldn’t stand to bump into another box. Harry let out a big yawn as he put away the last dishes of the current box. 

“Close your mouth, bubs,” you said, not looking up at him as you started to open another box. “Y/N, maybe we should take a break,” he said as he attempted to pull the box away from you. You pouted at him. “There’s still so many things to put away, though,” you whined a bit.

Harry chuckled as he cupped your face in his large hands, the coolness of his rings sending shivers up your spine. “And we can do them in the morning or the afternoon. We just moved here 3 days ago. We got time, there’s no rush,” he said softly. 

You sighed but you knew he was right. You were beginning to feel tired too and sleeping sounded heavenly at the moment. You glanced outside the glass sliding door and an idea popped into your head. 

“Hey, wanna go swimming?” you asked excitedly. Harry’s eyes widened at this and let out a small laugh. “Love, it’s nearly one. We should get some sleep, don’t ya think?” 

“Yeah, but I really wanna go swimming. In our pool,” you said and Harry knew he would never get tired of hearing that. Their pool, their bed, their couch; their home. 

He sighed, knowing he couldn’t just deny this innocent request of yours and smiled at you. “Fine, let’s go change,” he said. 

You smiled cheekily and stood up. “Who said anything about changing?” 

You quickly rushed out the back door, taking Harry by surprise as he hurried after you. You could imagine his shock as he saw you stripping out of your clothes, down into nothing. 

Fuck, he thought as he was entranced by your beautiful body. 

“Are you coming?” you called out to him and smirked as you jumped into the cool water. Harry broke out of his trance and quickly undressed so he could get in the pool with you. 

He quickly got in the pool and cursed as he was submerged into the freezing cold water. You giggled at him and swam gently towards him. “Feels nice, doesn’t it?” You smirked at your boyfriend. 

“Yeah, great! It’s not like my balls are freezing in ‘ere,” he said sarcastically. You hummed as you wrapped your arms around his neck, your legs around his hips. He was quick to hold you in place by your thighs. 

“You’re mean. Stripping off naked in front of me just to get me in this bloody pool. Mean, I tell ya,” he said as he pouted at you. You giggled at his silliness and pressed your forehead on his. 

“You love me, anyway,” you said teasingly. “Yeah, I might just reconsider that,” he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes at you. You gasped dramatically and began to pull away but he kept you stuck to him. “No, don’t go! You’re very warm, lovie,” he whined as he buried his face in your neck. 

“I do love you, darlin’” Harry said lovingly as he kissed the base of your neck, making you smile at the gesture. 

You both continued to swim around until you decided to get out of the freezing water before you turned pruny. You carefully made your way to your now shared bedroom, leaving a wet trail behind because you didn’t bother to bring out towels. 

It was 1:32 AM when you finally fell asleep in your shared bed; your shared home. 

❊

Harry slowly parked his car in the garage, shutting off the engine. He turned to you, smiling as he saw you sleeping in the passenger seat even though you insisted on staying up to keep him company.

You had gotten back from an event that Harry had attended. It was nice to feel the glitz and glam sometimes but even Harry would agree that it would become too tiring to handle. They ended staying back quite a bit until they realised how late it was and decided to go home then.

Harry gently shook your shoulder as he tried to wake you up. “Lovie, wake up. We’re home,” he said softly. You groaned a bit as you were disturbed from your slumber. Your mind was hazy and your vision was blurry as you looked around. 

You sighed and closed your eyes for a bit. “I fell asleep, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, felt a bit lonely actually,” Harry joked. You were always the one to think that you should be awake to keep him company as he drove, that and making sure he didn’t crash. 

You smiled sleepily at him, “Sorry, bubs.” You said, kissing his knuckles.

“No worries, darlin’. Let’s go to bed now, yea?” He said, already unbuckling his seatbelt, you doing the same. 

Your mind was still hazy from your sleep so Harry had to help guide you upstairs to make sure you didn’t trip and fall. You fell on your bed on your stomach, sighing into the soft comfortable mattress. Harry chuckled at this but knew if he didn’t help you out of your dress and clean off your makeup before bed, he’d be in big trouble.

“Lovie, c’mere. Gotta clean you up,” he said gently, slowly lifting you off the bed and guided you to the bathroom. You whined in exhaustion but followed him anyway. He began removing makeup gently and making sure you washed your hands and feet. Both of you were lucky to have showered earlier before leaving. 

You sometimes felt like Harry was too good for you. But you loved how it showed how much he loved to take care of you. The simple things he did truly warmed your heart.

“Can I wear your shirt?” You asked, sitting on the bed in just your underwear. Harry was already ahead of you by lending you his white shirt. “You forgot that I know you too well,” he smirked at you as you sheepishly put on his shirt. You’ve always had a habit of sleeping in his clothes so tonight was no surprise to him.

After putting on his sweatpants, he began to tuck you in bed. He gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead before pulling away. “No, come back,” you whined as you reached out for him.

Harry chuckled as he kissed your palm. “Just gonna get some water for us, lovie. Be back soon,” he said assuredly. When he came back, he turned off the lights and quickly got in beside you. 

You cuddled with Harry, burying your nose in his neck as you soaked in as much warmth as you could. “I love you, Harry,” you said with your eyes closed already. 

Harry’s eyes wandered on your features as you began to drift off to Dreamland. He brushed off the hair that was covering your face because he loved seeing your face before drifting off to sleep. Your head leaned in a bit to his palm that was resting on your cheek. 

Harry was truly in love with you, he realised that a long while ago. And he knew you felt the same. One year down into your relationship and he had never been more sure of spending the rest of his lifetime with you. 

He closed his eyes and sighed into his pillow. “Y/N,” he whispered in the dark. He heard you hummed in response. “Will you marry me?” He asked softly. He kept his eyes closed, feeling afraid of your answer.

Harry felt your hand on his cheek and he sighed at the feeling. “Harry, look at me,” he heard you whispered. He opened his eyes, seeing you looking at him with watery eyes. “Of course I will,” you said tearfully, smiling at him.

Harry let out a breath of relief. He leaned in to give you a kiss which you quickly gave in. Breaking away, he wiped off your tears that you didn’t realise were running down your cheeks. 

“Let me get your ring, yea?” Harry said happily as he got off the bed to search for the ring he bought for you weeks ago. You giggled at him, feeling an overwhelming sense of happiness and warmth.

It was 1:32AM when you slept with a ring of your finger, right next to your fiancé.

❊

It was cold but the fireplace filled the room with a lot of warmth. Some Christmas music was playing softly in the background. 

“You look very cute, darlin’,” you heard Harry say as he sat down next to you on the couch, handing you a mug of hot chocolate. Both of you were repping your Christmas sweaters in honour of the holiday. 

“Hmm, thank you, bubs,” you said as you carefully sipped on your hot chocolate. 

Both of you had a small Christmas eve dinner together with your families. When they said it was the most magical time of the year, you couldn’t deny that statement. It was because your home was filled with joy and laughter, drinking up on some warm milk and glasses of wine.

It was already past midnight, which meant it was already Christmas morning. While you agreed to wait until the morning for opening presents, you still were tempted to give Harry one gift that you’ve been saving. 

“Hey,” you said as you looked up to him. Harry hummed in response, sipping his drink out from his pink mug. “Got a present to give ya,” you said smiling at him. You kissed his cheek and put your mint green mug down on the coffee table as you got up to get your gift for him. 

Harry whined as you left your spot from beside him. “Babe, let’s do this in the morning. Just want to cuddle with my wife,” he called out to you in a whiny voice. You giggled as you rummaged through your drawer. Grabbing the red box, you hurried down to your husband, nerves building up as you approached near him. 

You sat down again next to him and handed him the box. Harry shook the box a bit to get a hint of what was inside. “If it’s something you’re gonna wear f’me later, then I don’t want it,” he said as he wiggled his eyebrows in a teasing manner. 

You rolled your eyes at him. “Just open the damn box,” you said as you sip on your drink again. He hummed in response as he took off the lid of the box, rummaging through the paper tissues inside. 

“I’m just saying, love. If it’s lingerie, might as well put it on-,”

Harry paused on his words. His eyes were fixated on the sonogram that sat in the middle of the box. Shakingly, he lifted it up to his face, rubbing his eyes as if to see if they were tricking him. But it was there. 

Harry looked at you with wide eyes and you could see the tears starting to form in them. You smiled nervously, not knowing if his reaction was a good one. “Y-You’re pregnant?” he asked, his voice wavering as he spoke. You nodded at him, tears escaping your eyes as you put a hand on your growing stomach. “I’m pregnant,” you confirmed with your voice cracking.

It was the most heartwarming reaction you thought as Harry broke down in front of you, wrapping his arms around you as he laid his head on your stomach. You laughed tearfully at him as you held at his shaking body tightly against you. You felt him pressing kisses on your clothed stomach and you could feel your heart bursting at the gesture. 

“We’re having a baby,” he cried out.

“We’re having a baby, bubs,” you repeated his words as you rubbed his back.

Harry pulled away and cupped your face, kissing you passionately in which you returned. You could feel the tears on your faces as you kissed, giggling at how much of a mess you both were. 

“I love you,” he mumbled out into the kiss. To him, no other Christmas present would ever top this. And it truly was a merry Christmas.

“I love you, too,” you said lovingly. 

It was 1:32 AM when you both slept in each other’s arms, Harry’s hand on your stomach, where your little love was growing. 

❊

Harry was awakened from his sleep when he heard loud crying. Sighing, he turned to see you still sleeping and huddled up in the blankets. He got out of bed, stretched his muscles a bit, and put on some sweatpants before attending the crying child. 

Parenthood was indeed a challenge to the both of you and you couldn’t deny that. It was hard at first adjusting to the new chapter of your lives, with all the sleepless nights and cleaning up baby puke, but you managed to pull through. Though it seemed like maybe this was another one of your sleepless nights. 

Harry opened the nursery door, the crying of his baby appearing louder than before. “Hi, sunflower,” he cooed as he walked over to the crib where his baby girl was writhing against the blankets. Little baby Rosie’s cries seemed to tone down after seeing her father. She lifted her chubby arms to him, implying that she wanted to be held. 

And who was Harry to deny this request to his daughter as he lifted her out of the crib. He grabbed the little pink blanket that he sewed for her - fatherhood really changed him. Harry cooed at his daughter who was staring at him with big wide eyes, the green eyes reflecting his. It was a notable inheritance, look-wise. Rosie babbled a bit to him and Harry nodded at her to make it seem like he understood. 

Rosie was gripping one the little blanket Harry gave her when he felt a pair of arms wrapped around his waist. He smiled as he felt you putting your head on his shoulder, sighing tiredly as you looked at them. He pressed a kiss on your forehead, turning his body a bit so you could see your daughter. 

“Bed’s cold,” you pouted as you stroke Rosie’s head gently. Rosie cooed at the gesture before nuzzling her head against Harry’s chest. “Sorry, lovie. Our little sunflower here wanted some company,” he said chuckling at the little baby in his arms.

You smiled as Rosie’s eyes were threatening to close. You sighed deeply as you pressed a kiss on Harry’s bare shoulder, which sent some shivers throughout his body. Harry could never get over with your every kiss and touch you laid upon him. He realised now how lucky he was to have come so far with you, despite the fights or arguments you had before. 

“C’mon. She can lay with us,” you chose to say because nothing would warm your heart more than sleeping with your husband and daughter. Harry nodded and carefully carried the nearly sleeping baby into your bedroom. He laid Rosie in the center of your bed, putting her blanket over her little body. 

As you got in your bed, Harry grabbed your arm. “Kissy?” He asked, pouting his lips at you. You giggled at your husband’s silliness and leaned forward to give him a kiss, humming at the feeling. “I love you,” you mumbled softly as you tucked yourself in next to him and Rosie.

“I love you, darlin’,” he said in return. 

And it was 1:32 AM when Harry fell asleep next to his beautiful little family, feeling grateful for everything that has happened in your life together.

#harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles x reader #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fic #dad!harry styles #husband!harry styles #parkersroses writing

[supercorpkid]

Kara’s Earth birthday.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader

Word Count: 2540.

“Oh, what you hiding in there?” You ask, coming from behind Lena and she jumps in fear. You chuckle at her reaction.

“Shhh, be quiet.” Lena says, shushing you with her finger. “I’m hiding Kara’s gift.”

“Oh! Momma’s birthday is coming up, you’re right.” You throw yourself in their bed, watching Lena carefully lock the lead box you gave her for Mother’s Day. “What are we doing for her?”

“I don’t know, baby. You’re not Superkid anymore so we can’t pick up her favorite foods from another countries, so maybe we just get potstickers and invite the Olsens.” Lena answers, still not paying attention to you, while she puts the box away. You breathe deep thinking about it.

“I could go.”

She looks back at you, looking confused. “No, my love. You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with just because it’s Kara’s birthday.”

“One: yes, I do. And two: it’s ok. I’m not uncomfortable with it at all.” You shrug. “It’s just flying, then landing in China and buying things from her favorite restaurant there. I don’t even need my suit.”

“Oh, you also don’t have your suit.” Lena says, moving to her closet and coming back with a box in hands. “Remember I burned it when I was you?”

“I do remember. Did I ground you for it, young lady?” You joke, making Lena roll her eyes at you.

“Here’s the new one.” She hands you the box and you open to see the House of El crest staring at you in its golden glory. You breathe deep.

“You know what? Just keep it.” You give her the box back. “It was here with you, anyway. I’m sure you’ll take better care now that you don’t have to wear it anymore.”

“Yeah?” Lena asks, unsure. You agree with your head.

“I’ll ask if I need it.” You watch Lena getting up and going back to the closet. You lower your glasses to see where she is keeping it, memorizing the shelf she put in. You adjust your glasses back on your face before she comes back into the room. “So-” You say when she shows up. “I’ll get the food. And I’ll make a gift for her in the lab. You already got her a gift, and we have the dinner planned.”

Lena smiles, agreeing.

“Doesn’t it all seem a little…” You think about it. “Basic?”

“Basic?”

“Yeah, I mean, isn’t it the same thing we do every year? Shouldn’t we try something different? Like, a surprise party?”

“A surprise party?” Lena parrots you. “For Kara?” You nod. “I think you’re forgetting we’ve tried that for years and we can never surprise her. She has super hearing and x-ray vision, baby. It’s like setting ourselves up for failure.”

“Ok, but what if we do it somewhere she can’t see through? Like the DEO. Or-or my lab!”

“You wanna throw a party in your lab?”

“I just want to try something different this year. Honestly, don’t you feel like this year we’ve been through all kinds of weird, miserable, fucked up things-”

“Language!”

“Sorry, but there isn’t any other word good enough to describe it.” You can see that your mom is agreeing with you. “For some reason I feel like this year we should be thankful we’re still alive and well and together.”

“You’re right.” She cups your face with a sad little smile. “We’ve been through so much; your momma deserves a really nice party with everyone here to celebrate.”

“Who’s everyone?”

“You know, everyone everyone.”

“Mom, everyone everyone who? We know like ten people.”

“Don’t worry about it. Just worry about the food, and straighten up your lab, so it looks less like a lab, and more like a place we could actually throw a party.” You see Lena’s eyes tinkling and you don’t even ask about it. You already have a long list of things to do. Gift, food, organizing the lab. You’ll need some help.

You go to your lab, you need to think of something to give her as a gift, and you only have two days to figure it out. It’s too short notice. Why the hell weren’t you thinking about this before?

You sit in your lab and think and think. What can you give Kara? You sit on the chair, on the floor, on the table. You lay in it, roll to one side, then to the other. You pace around the lab. You leave really quickly to buy some snacks and look for inspiration on the street. Then you go back to the lab. What can you give her? You play on your phone. Text your cousin -she doesn’t reply because she is at school-. You go see your mom upstairs -she is in a meeting and can’t talk-. You spend half an hour talking to Aly and distracting her from her receptionist job. You go back to the lab, lay on the floor and stare at the ceiling. Your entire day is a waste. You can’t think of a single thing to make and give to Kara.

The next day you ask Jamie’s help, when she leaves school, to make your lab more presentable. She has a lot of ideas. Some are very inflammable to do in a lab -honestly, most of them are-, but some are actually nice, and when you two are done your lab looks like someplace else.

“Can you move this table?” Jamie looks at your worktable in the middle of the room. “I mean, you probably can right?”

“I-yes, Jamie, I probably can.” You smirk, picking it up more than a thousand pounds with one hand and moving to the side.

“You know, that’s something I never get tired of watching.”

You think about how many times you’ve seen Kara with one couch in one hand, her phone on the other, while Lena vacuums under it. How do the rest of the world clean under heavy furniture? You don’t even know.

“Ok. How about now?” You ask looking around and Jamie agrees with a smile.

“It’s perfect.”

“Great! Now I just have to think about something I can make or buy for her.”

“Well, I can’t help with that.” Jamie says, grabbing her stuff and making her way out your lab. You follow her closely behind. “I had one idea and it was a little notebook that she can use for work.”

“That’s actually quite clever.” You grunt, frustrated.

“Don’t sound so surprised.”

Why can’t you think of something to give to your momma? It used to be so easy and now you can’t think of anything for the life of you. It’s so disappointing. You know that Kara won’t care about what you give her, but why on Earth is it so hard?

“Hey.” Kara knocks on your door, late at night. You look at your alarm clock, confused. It’s too late. “Heard you were still up.”

“Oh. Come in.” You say and you don’t have to call twice to Kara throw her body next to yours, flopping on her belly.

“You seemed distracted today. I wanted to check if you’re alright.” She slings her arm around your ribcage, and you smile to yourself. Rao, this woman deserves the entire universe. There’s nothing you could make that would be good enough for her. You kiss the crown of her head.

“I love you.”

“Oh.” Kara says, raising her head to look at you. “I love you too, babyface.” But she raises an eyebrow right after. “Is that all?”

“Mhm.” You smile. “I’m alright. You?”

Kara’s eyebrows pinch together, and you see her crinkle showing. You ease it up with your thumb.

“No need to worry. I’m actually fine.”

“My face betrays me.” She says with a laugh. “Gonna get botox for that.”

“No. You look perfect as you are, momma.” You cup her face, and she smiles, kissing your hand in return.

“Ok, I’m gonna let you sleep, then. Have a goodnight, kid.”

The very next day is the day of the party. You make some adjustments here and there. And wait for Lena to say its time.

“Hey!” Lena enters your lab with a big cake in hands. “The place looks great!”

“I know, right? Jamie had a bunch of cool ideas.”

“Your momma’s going to love it.” She places the cake on the table. “Ok, time to fly to China for the food. Here.” She gives you her credit card. “I’ll wait for the guests and when we’re all here, we’ll get her to come.”

“Ok, cool.” You look at the list of things to buy, and Lena’s card. It’s a lot of food. You wonder how many people she has invited.

When you come back, balancing all the food she’s asked for, your lab is already filled with guests, with portals opening, bringing more people in.

“Hey Superkid!” Barry says, coming from the portal with wife, kids, Caitlin Snow, Cisco, and a bunch of other people right behind him.

“Hey!” You try to wave without dropping the food, which is hard.

“Here, kiddo, let me help.” Alex shows up next to you. She grabs a few bags and helps you set up the table. “Nice party.”

“Thanks. Jamie actually helped decorate.” You say, and you hear Jamie’s voice right behind you.

“It would’ve been nicer if you had let me bring sparkles.”

“So we could burn this place down? No, thanks.” You answer and watch Superman walking in with his family following him closely by. “Hi, Kal!” And not far behind, you see Eliza. “Oh! Gramm! You came!”

“I sure did!” She opens her arms, and you walk into her embrace. “Look at you! You’re so tall now! You look exactly like your momma.”

“Speaking of her-” You hear Lena’s voice. “Seems like everyone is here already. Oh wait, here comes Nia and Brainy. Alex? Is J’onn and M’gann coming?”

“On their way!”

“When they get here, you call your momma ok?” Lena moves away from you, and you agree with your head. You look around again. There are too many people in your lab, you didn’t even know you all knew this many people, let alone that you could gather all of them in one place.

“We’re here! Sorry, sorry!” J’onn says walking in, and you look at Lena who nods at your phone.

You: Hey! You busy?

Momma: Going home, why baby?

You: I need help with something here in my lab. Can you come over? I have donuts🍩🍩🍩

Momma: DONUTS! Say no more!

“Guys, she’s coming!”

Everyone stops talking, and Lena comes at you with the cake. You look at it with a smile on your face, you still can’t believe she made a cake that looks like a potsticker. Your momma will freak.

“Little one?” You hear Kara from the other side of the door.

“Yeah! Come in!” You watch Kara opening the door and getting startled when everyone yells.

“SURPRISE!”

“What! You did not just surprise me! That’s so cool!” Kara comes closer with the biggest smile you have ever seen. “Awww, look at all of this! OH MY GOD, THE CAKE! LOOK AT THE CAKE!”

“Go ahead, blow it out.” Lena says.

“Gently.” Alex adds, making you chuckle at the thought.

“Make a wish.” You suggest right after.

“What else can I wish for?” Kara says with a soft smile, and your cheeks burn red. She blows out the candles, and it doesn’t take long for the party to actually start.

She goes around saying ‘hello’ and ‘thank you’ to everyone, and you sit in a corner with Jamie to eat. Gramm joins right after and it’s great to see her for a while.

It’s really late at night when the portals start to open, people start to leave, and there’s no one left in your lab but your aunts, Gramm, Jamie and moms. They help you clean up the whole thing and soon enough they’re giving Kara their gifts.

You feel embarrassed that you don’t have anything to give her, so you slip out of the lab, praying she doesn’t notice your lack of gift for her.

“Hey, where are you going, kid?” Kara pulls you in, looking at you fondly.

You shrug and look down. How do you tell her you couldn’t think of a single present to give her?

“What’s that about?”

“I didn’t get you anything.” You breathe out.

“You didn’t-” Kara laughs. “Really? So a surprise party is nothing? And flying to another country to pick up my favorite foods doesn’t count?” You raise your eyes to finally look at her. “Why would you give me something else besides this whole thing?”

“I just-” You shrug again, cheeks burning with shame. She doesn’t push you any further, but she also doesn’t let go. Kara just looks at you, waiting for you to give her something. “Made all these big plans, because I wanted the day to be extra special.”

“And why is that kid?” She asks, and you bite your lip. “You know, I’m very happy with the party, and with the fact that I got to see everyone. But I would also be very happy if it was just you, Lena and me, and a little cupcake.” Kara says cupping your face. “Why did today have to be so special?”

“Because-” She raises her eyebrow encouraging you. “We had a difficult year, and I know that it was my fault.”

“What? Of course it was not your fault!”

“Momma, I almost died a few times, I went to three different realities, I was mind controlled, couldn’t get up from bed-”

“Ok, let me stop you right there.” Kara’s face becomes very serious. “You were kidnapped three times. You got tricked by an imp, which, by the way, I’ve been too. You were literally mind controlled by a villain. How-how can you say this is your fault?” You open your mouth. “How can I possibly think that it is your fault that you couldn’t get up from bed, when all of this has happened to you in less than a year, little one?”

You breathe out. You don’t know what to tell her.

“Yes, you’re right. It’s been a difficult year for the three of us. But what about meeting Maya, and everyone you met when you went to different realities? What about all the laughter, hugs, and kisses and the love we shared this year? Hm? Didn’t that make this year a little enjoyable?” Kara asks and you agree with your head. “I don’t need a huge party, the biggest cake you can buy, or any of this to make me happy. You know what I need?”

“Me?” You ask with a little smile, and she smiles widely at you.

“Yes, my heart. I need you.” Kara pulls you in for a hug and a forehead kiss. “And your mom too. Trust me, the fact that you’re both here in this universe with me, makes coming to Earth the best thing that has ever happened in my life.”

You smile, feeling less heavy.

“I love you, momma.” You kiss her forehead. “Happy Earth birthday. I’m glad you ended up here.”

“Me too, kid. Me too.”

#supergirl #kara danvers #supercorp #supercorpfamily #lena luthor #supercorp daughter #kara x lena #kara x reader #supercorp fanfic #lena x reader #happy birthday Kara Danvers

[arty-shadow-morningstar]

Treasure Hunter AU

I binged watch the Mummy trilogy while i had no wifi/internet for a while and I had an idea for a treasure hunter Mari with Daminette.

--------

Damian was bored.(age: 22-28 years old.)

At a gala party.

Meets Marinette who was equally bored.(abt the same age as D)

He finds out she was the finder of this famous artifact on display.

-----

Damian tugged at his collar, scanning the crowd. His father needed a plus one to show up with and everyone else were busy.

He grabbed a champagne flute and made his way to the edge of the room.

He found a woman in a black evening gown, looking as bored as he felt. short dark hair. Blue eyes.( I suck at describing people after the third time doing it. It feels overrated)

"Hello, stranger. You bored with mingling in with the assholes on their high horses?"

"Should I be offended?"

"We will see. Depends on you."

"How about you? A beautiful lady like you not kissing up their asses to climb the social ladder. That is strange."

She made a face. "Trust me. I don't want to be here but my friend wanted family time so I came in his place. What about you? Why are you here?"

"I am pretty sure my father wanted someone to get him out if the vultures came too close."

"Vultures, adept descriptions. I am glad no one realized who I am yet or i would be in their claws."

"Who are you representing, anyways?"

"Myself but Adrien or Kagami usually comes in my place but tonight, they have their son's play to go to."

"Adrien and Kagami. Aren't they the Agreste-Tsrungi?"

"Yep."

"You are the Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Globe trotting Treasure hunter and also world-class designer, MDC."

"Now you know. What's your name, handsome stranger?"

"You don't know?"

"Hey. Like you said globetrotting treasure hunter. I am not up-to-date on the news front. And when I am in Paris to do designer stuff, i am too busy to look at the news."

He gave her his hand, "Damian Wayne. Son of Bruce Wayne who is a billionaire and owns Wayne Enterprise."

She shook it.

"Pleased to meet you."

She stills design but like sent her designs to Adrien at least once every month, who had rebranded Gabriel to Miraculous Designs.

Some ppl thinks he did it to spite his father, who is in jail. Adrien and Mari has a partnership thing.

Mari also makes clothes but for a few months. And the rest of the time is spent travelling.

Exclusive designs from MDC are rare but the designs hand made by her are rarer so they are like a really big deal. They have the most amazing details. Really expensive and limited edition.

The rest of the time Mari spends finding Miraculouses (Miraculi ?) lost in the world so if she happens to find a few priceless artifacts that aren't the Miraculous. She donates it.

Alix helps and sometimes go find them with her.

She has Tikki and Plagg and maybe Wyazz all the time to look for curses and counter it.

She has also met John Constantine. They have an arrangement of sorts. A few magical artifacts that doesn't have to Miraculous business are given to him in exchange for any miraculous stuff he has or found.

Adrien funds her trips.

He is married to Kagami.

Kagami goes with Mari and Alix for a few months sometimes. Adrien likes being a stay at home dad.

Their kid is named Marin/Martin because it was Mari who got them together.

The few trips Mari dragged him on was enough to make him stay behind and run the business.

(Back to the story) Damian fangirled a little because Mari had been doing stuff like this since she was 18.

It was an amazing reputation she has.

She invites him to her next trip after questioning his skill sets.

------

"Are you good with heights, dark scary places and adventuring into the unknown?"

"Yes"

"You any good with guns, swords, knives, booby traps and keeping calm under pressure?"

"Yes. I have many experiences with them."

"Can you keep a secret?"

"Yes. Why are you asking me this?"

"Wanna join me on my next trip to the jungle of China? There are myths about some hidden temple."

------

Damian was a little conflicted.

He hadn't have the chance to explore the world much. He had been somewhere else for a mission (for the League of Shadows or JL business) but never for pleasure.

Being a vigilante by night and working at Wayne Enterprise by day gets a little boring after some years.

His brothers had a chance to travel the world on their own for a while. Sure, for reasons other than sight-seeing and looking for something to break out of the rut he was in. But still.

This was an exciting opportunity but a tad suspicious.

-----

"Why me?"

She looked surprised at that.

"Oh. Well, my friends enjoy coming with me on my adventures, treasure hunting and all that every now and then except Adrien but they have other things in their life to come with me all the time. I can mostly survive on my own most of the time but it gets lonely travelling on my own and it's nice if someone is there to watch my back. I understand if you don't want to come. It's just that I enjoy your company and you aren't like those assholes on their high horses. My gut feeling says I can trust you. You are not after the treasure or see it as one big game. You are looking for an escape. You would definitely catch me if I fall. As you know from my choice of friends, i have a bad habit of pulling rich kids from their stuffy lifestyle and take them on potentially life-threatening adventures." She joked. Then she lowered her voice, "Besides, it might be handy having a former assassin around."

She said in Arabic.

His hand went to his hidden knife and found it not there.

"Looking for this?" She said, holding it.

"How much do you know?" He hissed back in the same language.

"Relax," she gave back the knife, "my mother was one and I have accidentally came across a few in my adventures. I know one when i see one. I took a stab in the dark with your middle-eastern background. Speaking of, you know Talia Al Ghul by any chance."

He narrowed his eyes.

"She's my mother. Why?"

"You look like her. Met her a few times. Nice lady but scary. Mine's Sabine Cheng, goes by the Blue Reaper." She said it so casually like their parents weren't dangerous deadly assassins and had normal jobs.

"You aren't normal, are you?"

"What gave it away?"

"That you willingly gave away blackmail material to me."

"Normal people don't have assassins for mothers. And you and me aren't exactly meeting the minimum standards for normal. Besides, I just told you a family secret that you would have found out anyways with a through background search and a little digging. So far all I know about you is that your parents are Talia Al Ghul and Bruce Wayne-I wonder how an assassin got together with a billionaire-, you are a former League of Shadows assassin, you are great with weapons, keeping secrets and so far meeting the criteria for an adventure buddy. That's all I swear. And that you have some pets. A cat, maybe."

"How you know about my cat?!"

"Cat hair on your clothes." She was good. "If it will ease your mind about me, you can ask me 5 questions that I will truthfully answer. "

"So why are you doing this?"

"That's question 1. Well, I really want whatever this is between us to work. Partners, Friends, Companions, Comrades. Whatever you want to call it. Like I said, I get lonely sometimes and need some human interaction to at least keep myself sane. You looked like you want to be somewhere else and I thought this is perfect. I am not going to tell anyone about you or push you to join me. I swear on my mother's sword."

"Are we killing anybody?"

"Mostly I try to avoid that as much as possible. Sometimes I get into situations with no other alternative. " She looked away guiltily.

"Fair enough."

"Not judging me for that. That's a first for me."

"I am a former assassin and have killed before. I have no right to condemn you for your past."

"How much are you willing to tell me about this hidden temple?"

"That has to do with a secret. I would tell you more when there are less ears around. But this temple was said to hold a magic jewel that grants some powers and it is located really deep in the jungle. Getting there might take months."

"You forgot to mention that last one."

"Oh yeah. You think you can get away for some months. This kind of stuff usually takes a while. Like I said before, no pressure. Anyway, 2 questions left."

"What's my salary?"

"Aren't you a billionaire?"

"My father is. I have a trust fund and I get a salary for doing my job at the company. You are lucky that I just finished with most of my assigned projects so I might be able to come."

"I am so sorry about just assuming things about you. You can say no to the offer. The temple is said to hold some other treasures but I mainly want the jewel. We could auction off a few bits and pieces. I usually just donate them to museums and universities or sell them to those who really appreciate the history. I would also pay for the entire expenses for the trip."

"Can I think about this?"

"Sure. Here's my number. I leave on the 1st of next month. Gimme an answer a week before that so I can make the proper arrangements. It has been fun talking to you, Damian."

She walked away, going towards the buffet table.

------

Back in the car on the way home to the manor.

Bruce asked, "Who were you talking to for that long?"

"Who?"

"The one that gave you her number."

"Oh. MDC. She invited me to join her in China next month to find some hidden temple."

"She did?"

"Yes. Not only that she found out about mother and know what I did before I came here. She doesn't know about Batman, Robin or Crow. And she said she wasn't going to blackmail me but just wanted a companion to go with her. Ideally, it would be best to silence her before she digs any further into me but I trust her. I sincerely believe that she meant it when she said that she's not going to tell on me. And I am really tempted to take up on it."

"What do you want to do?"

"On one hand, i would be gone for months so there won't be Crow in Gotham for a while and I have a few projects I need to finish up. On the other hand. Father, I have been a vigilante for over 10 years now and I haven't really done much out besides that, school and now work. I have appreciated all you have done for me over the years. But I want to go with her. Do something that is not connected to Batman or Wayne or Al Ghul. Just a little something different for myself."

"You can go if you want. I am not going to stop you. I will make arrangements so the projects would be done by someone else. The others can cover your patrols. You are still young so it is understandable to want some fun every now and then."

"Thank you, Father."

Bruce put his hand on his shoulder.

"I am proud of you as Crow and as Damian Wayne. But if you want to go find some hidden temple in China just for a break from this life, to be just Damian, go for it. There are worse things you could do. Just tell me if you are going to go on any future trips like that." (I don't know DC much, sorry if that is a little OOC but I like good dad! Bruce.)

-------

Damian dialed the number on the card.

"Hello"

"I accept your offer, miss MDC."

"Damian? Right, text me your email address. I will sent you things you would need to pack and flight details. And can you come by to the Gotham Rose Hotel tomorrow? I will give more details on the temple."

-------

Damian comes by the hotel.

Marinette tells him of the kwamis and miraculous and makes him swear to not tell anyone unless they already know.

The hidden temple actually might have a miraculous.

Damian gets a little interested in the akuma situation she mentioned.

Mari doesn't say anything about it much.

When he got back, he goes to the Bat-computer and did some digging.

Ladybug looks a little familiar. Pulls up younger picture of Mari and look at that, she used to be a superhero.

Wonder Woman was kept informed of things and made sure no one goes to Paris without her knowing.

Zatanna helped capture the villain Hawkmoth and end his 2 year reign.

Fast forward, they are in Beijing now, sleeping off jetlag.

The next morning, They get out of the city somehow to the city limits and somewhere remote.

Mari uses Kalki and transports them to the jungle.

They set up camp. Cue Campfire stories.

-----

"I thought getting here would take months."

"No actually, finding the temple would. According to my research and the map I copied through less than legal means, it is somewhere in this general area. There used to a city around here too and the king or emperor pissed off some powerful priest or wizard, take your pick. There was a curse. The city crumbled down and the temple is the only thing standing because the king went there and prayed to the gods for protection. The one who answered his prayers and protected the temple in doing so the king was pressed into service of the god. The king did everything the god said for a while but later, he started to hate it and began disobeying the orders. The god cursed him for his disobedience. The temple he was protected in became his tomb and he was tasked to protect the chest inside the temple for the rest of eternity. Anyone who opens the chest would gain the ultimate power to rule the earth. Thankfully, we are not after the chest. Some powerful crack-head with a misused miraculous tried to find it and open the chest for more power. But he never returned. My theory is that the miraculous is still in the temple. As long as we don't wake up the king or go for the chest, we would be okay."

"What are the guns for? And How did you get them past security?"

"In case of emergencies, an army of undead was mentioned and guns are surprisingly good repellent. Well, most of the time. It's useless if there is a no weapons can kill 'it' rule. Then, it's just a stress reliever. I kept them in a pocket dimension. Makes it easier to get around."

Damian vowed to never let Marinette meet Jason. Judging by the pile of guns and occasional knives and other weapons she took out of the brown satchel which apparently holds a pocket dimension, Jason would adopt her. He wondered if that was all that was inside in.

-------

They packed up and started searching the jungle for hidden temple.

It was a month and a half before they found it.

They bonded a lot during that time.

They had a moment after drinking a little alcohol which Mari has in the pocket dimension. Or Drank a lot of alcohol and had sex.

It was awkward and they both agree to not talk about it again.

Soon after, they found the temple. But it is still a little far away.

But the temple is not the only thing they found. They also found a campsite with many people milling around. Some of them carried guns.

Somewhat rich bastard who overheard their conversation at the gala. Heard treasure and found out where Mari's next expedition is.

Had the help of some scholar who wants to be famous for the greatest find since King Tut.

They found the temple even though they had no magical help, they left 2 weeks before Mari did, so yeah.

Rich Bastard's name is 'Philip Anderson'(This sounds familiar to me for some reason and I can't find out why.) and Scholar is 'Harry Scott'

They have armed bodyguards and some 'hired' help to get the treasure.

Anderson is still rich but his company had been getting losses the past 2 years and this is a quick, easy get rich scheme.

Mari and Damian: "Rich asshole on his high horse."

Anderson doesn't know about the chest but Mari and Damian thinks he does and it was what he was after.

They set up camp a little further ahead of Anderson's

Unfortunately, they were found by Harry. Somehow.

-----

I am going to continue this when I am more awake.

#damian x marinette #daminette #maribat #mlb x dc #treasurehunter! Mari #explorer!Mari #there isn't much of this

[geordiewrites]

Hey i just read exile inspired fic and it is soo good. I think you should write one based on the song tolerate it by ts? With harry plz. The drama, fight, tears.. I think you will reflect the emotion so well omg.

Tolerate It | Harry Potter

A/N: Hi lovely! First off, I adored this request so much and I really hope I’ve done it justice. Tolerate It is such a beautiful song and defo one of my favourites off of Evermore to cry to, there’s just so much detail hidden within the lyrics and I adore that. Harry too!! There’s not enough stuff for Harry, so I hope I’ve done well for you! ( Also this is super short, but I’ve been swamped with coursework xox )

Summary: Y/N is in love with The Boy Who Lived, and due to marry him in the Spring with a beautiful April wedding. Friends to lovers to that engaged couple who are just too in love to function, they share the most perfect story. But when Y/N begins to see their relationship for what it is, her entire world is thrown off key...

Warnings: angst and lots of it, loneliness, sadness, swearing.

~

“You’re coming home tonight, right?” Y/N asks, excitement and anticipation heavy in her tone, cherry red nails clicking against the cold metal of the answerphone.

“Of course, I’ll be back soon, love.” Harry Potter, her beloved fiancé, answered back on the other side from his workplace all the way in central London. His office is almost empty, devoid of any homely photos or colleagues: they had all gone home to their families long ago, and yet he stayed behind. He had no work to finish, no cases glaring to be solved. There was nothing to do but leave, but Harry didn’t.

“You’ve said that before.” Y/N pointed out blandly, her forced smile fading slightly. Many times had Harry said he was on his way home, only to send a letter the next morning apologising for suddenly getting swamped with unavoidable paperwork. “Please come home Harry, I’ve even made your favourite for dinner.”

“That sounds good, I promise I’ll be there soon. I’m just leaving the Ministry now.” Harry replied monotonously, not sounding nearly as happy as Y/N wished he would. Perhaps he had just had a bad day at the office, he must have done. But he had just one too many bad days now, and the reality that he might not want to see her was beginning to sink in.

Shaking off that horrible thought, Y/N inhaled a sharp breath and chewed the edge of her top lip. “Alright, if you say so. I’ll see you then.”

“Bye.” Harry said shortly before putting the phone down and staring at his office, desperately trying to find a reason to stay at work. He did love Y/N, he did. Heck, he had even asked her to marry him and kissed the edge of her lips as they set the date. And then postponed it. And then postponed it another year after that, all because of some urgent work that Harry had suddenly come across. He was just so young, forced to grow up so quickly he didn’t even have time for a scrap of a childhood. Maybe that was why he didn’t want to see Y/N, why going home to their apartment often felt like a chore.

Back at their cosy flat in the nicer part of Greenwich, Y/N put the phone down after hearing an abrupt beep on the other end that let her know he had hung up. She sighed before walking over to a tall cabinet that stood to the side of their kitchen, taking out a set of nice china plates her Grandmother had left her and crystal wine glasses. It was the lovely cutlery only used for things like Christmas and obligatory dinner parties her family forced her to hold.

After setting it out on the table, Y/N checked the time and supposed that if Harry really had left as he said, he would be back in just a minute through the wonders of apparation. Carefully so she wouldn’t somehow spill the food in her clumsiness, a quality Harry once said he loved about her, Y/N moved the food from the oven, to plates and then through to their front room where the fancy cutlery was set up. A smile made its way onto her face, a beaming, gorgeous smile of confidence that her and Harry would finally have the night she deserved. One where work or his reluctance to put effort into their relationship, even if she did pretend she knew nothing about this, didn’t get in the way.

Alas however, minutes passed and there was no sign of Harry anywhere. The food grew colder and that wonderful, rare smile of hers faded into an all too comfortable frown, the crease between her eyebrows deepening with not only disappointment, but anger. A growing resentment for Harry’s lack of care or even acknowledgement of their engagement. He didn’t seem to give two hoots that she had made a lovely meal; after all, he had only called it ‘good’. Not fabulous or decadent or even something praiseful. Just good.

They hadn’t said ‘I love you’ before they hung up the phones. Harry had only said one word. Y/N’s mind began to spiral, her breathing growing quicker and sharper as the thought that it might be time to confront Harry about the buildup of letdowns over the course of the last few months. A year even, since he had properly spent time at home. At their home, the one in which he had knelt down on one knee and told her he wanted to grow old with her by his side, failing at muggle card games on the front porch as they watched their grandchildren play.

Not knowing exactly what to do, Y/N retreated to grasping at the doorframe to keep her body from tumbling to the ground. Her mind whirred with the usual possibilities to try and chase away his lateness. Got caught at work, perhaps Ron called. But none of it compared to the looming threat that Harry was scraping any old excuse together in order to stay away. That he was lying, something she never thought she would have to think about him doing. Harry had always been such an honest person, even as a child.

Y/N remembered how nervous he was when he first asked her out during their fifth year at Hogwarts. He had been on this disastrous date with some Ravenclaw she couldn’t quite remember the name of, and come back utterly defeated. Feeling sorry for a friend she had always harboured a crush on, Y/N had stayed up all night convincing him something better was around the corner. It occurred to Harry quite quickly after that that Y/N was that somebody. She liked him, and at the time that was enough to make him think he was in love. To some degree he was, but not nearly as much as Y/N had fallen for him.

It was almost midnight when the front door to their apartment clicked with the turn of a key, and Y/N, still standing in the same sad place by the door to their living room, finally saw Harry step into their home. It had been hours since they were supposed to eat the food that Y/N had worked to hard to create. There it still sat however, with the plates and crystal glasses and unopened bottle of wine in the same place, completely untouched.

Y/N had a thousand things to say to him. Usually it would begin with her asking him where he had been galavanting off to, but not tonight. Tonight was the final tear in her elastic heart, just enough to finally make it tear into two broken, hollowed out pieces. She stood, silent and just watched as he took off his shoes and put his coat back in it’s place without saying anything. Harry wasn’t even trying anymore, and that hurt more than him being late to begin with.

“Sorry for the delay, something came up.” Harry said, standing a few metres away from her. There was no affectionate kiss to the forehead like when they were fresh out of Hogwarts with teenage dreams and ambitions. No arm comfortably slung around her waist in a protective manner. Y/N missed that especially out of all the things that had faded away. That simple gesture that showed he wanted to hold her above all else, above everyone else who had ever wanted to touch the Chosen One like she did.

“Something.” Y/N repeated, no emotion in her voice. It sounded almost like a recording being played back to him, just with any tone sucked away. “It’s always something, isn’t it?” She continued, not finding quite the right words to encompass the flummox of emotions seeping into her veins. “Work. Ron called. Hermione called. Work. Work again.”

“There really was something.” Harry pathetically added. It was a lie of course, he had spent the hours at his desk alone and staring aimlessly at a fountain pen as it leaked ink onto the black carpet of his office.

“Do you really think I don’t know you at all? Stop lying to me, Harry, just stop it. I’m done with being lied to.” Y/N says, her voice remaining as monotonous as ever as if she’s already grieving something. “I want to know what was so important that you’ve missed the dinner I made. The last thirty dinners, in fact.”

Harry just runs a hand through his messy hair as he tries desperately to think of something to say. But he can’t. There’s nothing to say that would make him any less guilty.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He manages to whisper.

“You’ve said that already.” Y/N points out without missing a single beat. She’s exhausted of pretending that she doesn’t know what Harry’s been doing, drained of all energy to put in effort anymore.

“Just tell me what the problem is and we can fix it.” He begs, but his voice is shaky and the words sound as though he’s reading them from a script.

“Fine. When did you stop being in love with me?” Y/N asks, sadness seeping into her voice. Tears began to form in her eyes but were quickly blinked away; the last thing she wanted was for Harry to see her as weak. She might be pathetic, pitiful, stupid for not realising earlier... but Y/N was not going to be weak. Not now, not ever.

“Why would you think that? Y/N, I could never stop loving you.” Harry said, trying to wrap her into a hug only for Y/N to quickly wriggle out of his cold grasp. His fingers left icy burns where they had briefly touched her arm, and Harry’s face dropped as he realised she didn’t want him anywhere near her.

“But you have, Harry. Otherwise you wouldn’t be coming home at ridiculous times, or avoiding even looking at me like you are now. You don’t love me, you tolerate me because you don’t want to be alone. I feel like I’m begging to be in the footnotes in the story of your life, not a main character anymore.” Y/N explained quietly, neither expecting her to be so frank but once the blunt words were spilling from her lips, not even she could stop them. She watched as Harry’s face crumpled, sadness twisting her gut as she fervently tried not to cry herself.

“Y/N... I don’t know what to say.” Harry trailed off. Y/N used to be so infatuated with him, so desperately in love that she was blind to his flaws, much like his ridiculous fan base. But she had grown up from the teenager with a crush to a young woman with heart and with ambitions, and Harry was no longer apart of what she wanted out of life. She had stopped being a part of his long ago, she just hadn’t realised it then.

“Is this in my head? Tell me I’ve got it wrong somehow, Harry. Because please believe me, I could do it. I could leave.”

“I can’t.” Harry finally said. “I did love you once, Y/N. I’m not even sure what happened to us if I’m being completely honest.”

“That’s the problem: you don’t really even want me to stay. But that’s the thing... you built an entire new wizarding world after you defeated You-Know-Who, and where was I? I’m sorry for being dramatic and shit but I’m taking this dagger out and finally going where I need to be.” Y/N continued, not pausing as not to give him any time to ask her to stay, not that he would. Her mind was made up, and even Harry could see that.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Harry whispered, his voice trailing off as Y/N went to get her coat from a peg just beside their front door.

“It’s alright, really. I know you don’t hate me, but both of us know this isn’t working anymore. I deserve someone who celebrates me and my love, and that isn’t you. I’m not really sure that it ever was.” Y/N said, a sad smile gracing her delicate features. She looked almost relieved. Utterly broken-hearted, but relieved all the same. “I’ll come back for my stuff tomorrow.”

“You’re leaving me?” Harry said. Even though she had told him why, it still came as a shock. Y/N nodded. “I’m so sorry I didn’t treat you how you deserve.”

“I’m sorry about that too.” Y/N replied, both warmly and coldly at the same time. “Goodbye, Harry Potter. All the best.”

“Goodbye.” It was all Harry could fathom to say as she pressed her engagement ring back into his hand, the final recognition of their relationship officially being over. It was a beautiful piece of jewellery, one she at one point she thought she would never take off her finger. There were no more words exchanged about the gesture for none were needed, all had been said already.

One simple word that locked the door on their relationship, the one that Y/N had finally gained the courage to close in the first place. It had taken her so long, so pathetically long, to realise that something wasn’t right. That Harry was meant to love her, that love shouldn’t and can’t survive while being one sided. It shouldn’t have to be tolerated, and Y/N had finally learned that through all those lonely nights of wondering where Harry was, what he was getting up to at work, if he even was there.

But as Y/N’s grandma used to tell her every Christmas, as one door closes, another always opens.

-

A/N: hoped you liked it anon!!!

Nancy xx

#harry potter angst #harry potter fic #harry potter x reader #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fluff #Gryffindor #golden trio era #harry potter x yn #harry potter x you #nancy writes

[keanureevesisbae]

Oh oh oh! And I’d like to know the reason you choose the faceclaims you choose for your main ofc’s! 😍

So, picking out my face claims is really the longest process in the world, because first I have to think of what my ofc will be like personality wise, important characteristics of her and then I can find a great faceclaim for my ofc's.

Because my ass is obsessed with K-Pop (surprise surprise), I naturally gravitate towards choosing a female idol, mostly because if I want to make edits, I have tons of pictures to choose from.

Be ready for a long long LONG explanation:

The reason I chose Irene (Red Velvet) for Darcie Angel, was because when I was looking for a picture as a front cover for my first fan fiction (one cappuccino and a chocolate brownie please), I found a picture of her sipping some coffee, which seemed fitting for the entire story.

I chose Seulgi (Red Velvet) for Sandy Choi, because Sandy loved to dance and there are tons of dance videos of the queen of dance Seulgi.

I don’t really remember why I chose Wendy as Adelaide Park, but it was a good match, because her face really fitted the story.

Jessica Jung (former SNSD) was the perfect face claim for Amelia Jung (yes, I borrowed a surname here), because she has truly been a Kpop idol, like Amelia was in the story.

When I was looking for a face claim for Becky Kim for Sugar Sugar, I accidentally found Naeun from Apink—a group I didn’t even stan. However her natural beauty, combined with this expensive vibe (does that make sense? It does in my mind lol) made her perfect for a future sugar baby.

I chose Lee Hyori (former fin.x.l) for Natalie Lee Bennett of It’s a funny story, because there are tons of pictures of her from her younger days and her now, making it a better fit for the story structure itself.

YooA from Oh My Girl! was an easy choice, because Penny Townsend in the story is very innocent, adorable and I wanted that to be prevalent in her looks. YooA's doll like features were really what I was looking for.

Because I was going back to enjoy SNSD’s amazing songs, my eye was immediately pulled towards Sooyoung, who is an absolute babe. Her beauty, her height and just the vibe I get from her through interviews, felt like a perfect match for Rosemary Hill.

Ever After Boutique is all about fashion and to me Jennie from Blackpink is one of the queens of fashion, so choosing her to represent Frankee Newhouse felt only natural.

Because Ivy Sullivan in Oblivious is a sporty type of girl, I kept looking for a sporty photoshoot with an idol and I saw Solar, who is nowadays on such a fitness journey, which seemed fitting.

Hyuna (former 4Minute, TripleH and what not lol) was a great idea for Luna in the story Caught in a Blizzard. I used her former group 4Minute as a faceclaim for the girl group in the story and because Hyuna is such an icon, she felt perfect for Luna.

Victoria Song (who portrays Winnie Monroe in Serendipity) is the only Chinese girl on the list of Kpop idols and her being adopted from China is a part of her character arc. Because I actually thought of making a trailer for this and Victoria has played in tons of dramas, making it easier for me to use footage, but I ended up not doing it.

For the other stories, I didn’t use Kpop idols. For Olivia Tran I used Naomi Roestel (Vietnamese influencer) for the face claim, because she just seemed so fitting for the story. For Protection and Eunoia (and my new story Chasing Nostalgia with a girl named Leilani - coming up January 8th!) I used art breeder (I honestly hate the name, but it’s such an amazing site), because I specifically wanted an Indonesian/Moluccan OFC and it was very hard to find the right face online.

I had a few women in mind for Alice Matsuda, but decided not to go for it, because I wanted the story to revolve around her diary entries and not her looks.

keanureevesisbae 1k follower milestone celebration - ask me a question!

#keanureevesisbae 1k followers milestone celebration #diegos-butt

[retrievablememories]

this is me trying | lucas

title: this is me trying pairing: lucas x black!reader genre: angst request: “Hey do you think you can do a sequel about Lucas’ No manners like an aftermath of what happened after he hung up on her and what she’s been up too all this time. And what Lucas decided to do.” word count: 2.1k warnings: mentions of infidelity, mentions of an abortion, relationship problems, cursing a/n: that banner is boring af, but photoshop is a bitch who didn’t save my previous file and i don’t have time to play all night

the sequel to no manners. okay... i decided to go for a different type of ending here since i tend to make the couple break up/stay broken up in these angsty stories...and i know people tend to like endings where things are resolved...though EYE personally would not recommend this irl 💀

It’s been a few months since you’ve seen Lucas on any video call, and even longer since you’ve seen him in person. These couple months alone have seemed even longer and more tiresome than the previous duration of time when you were kept apart from him.

You haven’t heard from him in that time span, either, which makes you feel...it’s hard to know how to feel, especially with how you yourself froze him out to avoid admitting the truth. It’s easy enough to know what he’s doing through WayV’s posts on YouTube and Instagram and wherever else, but you don’t enjoy knowing next to nothing about how he’s doing—like you’re merely another fan when you’re actually his wife.

You also understand, though, that maybe you don’t have much room to complain with your previous actions. That doesn’t make it any less painful. Especially with him ignoring your small attempts to reach out to him.

Despite Sharia’s earlier advice, you decide to stay at your job and continue avoiding Daniel at all costs. Staying at home and having nothing to do during this conflict would only make you slip further into depression, which is the last thing you need right now. You’re in no state of mind to be trying to find another job and doing countless interviews, either. 

Luckily, Sharia doesn’t mind helping you stay away from Daniel or create the perfect facade that your marriage is still doing fine despite it being the exact opposite. Everyone at your job still thinks things are as they have always been, and you’re relieved for that.

That’s about the only point of relief in your life, though.

You’re reaching the end of your limit with how much you can endure of staying in that same house without Lucas, being reminded of him in every corner of every room. His clothes in the closet, his side of the bed, his favorite coffee mugs in the kitchen. You’ve already tried hiding some of his things out of sight so you wouldn’t have to face unwilling memories, but it’s too difficult to completely erase a presence that fills every aspect of your home. And that’s not something you really want to do, anyway—which makes you feel more downtrodden and unable to let go.

You decide you need to get out, get away, change your surroundings. It’s wearing you thin to keep coming back to this empty house everyday, drifting around the space like a misplaced ghost. If you stay here another month, you think you might lose your sanity once and for all. So, eventually, you start packing. Sharia doesn’t mind letting you stay over for a little while, and you are grateful for the welcome distraction and comfort that being in her company will provide.

On a day when you’re making the last few preparations to leave for Sharia’s place, you hear a car pulling up in the driveway. You’re confused for a few seconds, as you weren’t expecting any visitors and today isn’t the day Sharia is supposed to come over. However, your heart kicks up in its rhythm when you go to the window in the kitchen to check. It’s Lucas’s car.

For a few moments, you’re unsure what to think or how to react. You’ve wanted to see him for so long, but now that he’s here, you want him gone again. What will he say when he sees your things packed? Will he even care? Most importantly, what has he come here for, after all this time?

You don’t have much more time to think about these things before Lucas is getting out of the car and walking up to the door. You stand in your spot in the kitchen, frozen as the key turns in the lock.

Lucas walks into the house cautiously, as if he doesn’t know how to properly approach this environment after being gone for so long. When he catches sight of you through the kitchen entryway, he stops in his tracks, still standing in the living room.

Both of you stare at each other for a few long and agonizing seconds. His eyes are still weary and hurt like they were the night you told him the news, but there’s a question floating there, too.

“You’re not…?” His eyes drop down to your stomach, the front of your shirt, and it looks the same as he remembers it being months ago, before he left for China, despite you telling him of your pregnancy. If there’s one thing he remembers, it’s that.

“No,” you respond quietly, “There’s no way I could go through with it.”

Lucas pauses, then nods, though he doesn’t say anything else for a few long moments—nothing to explain his sudden appearance, nothing to comment on the decision you made.

He shoves his hands into his pockets and looks at the ground, shifting his jaw.

“What...did you come here for?” you finally ask. The words sound harsh to your ears, and you wince internally, but you don’t know what else to do to make some kind of headway.

“Just...getting some things.” Lucas rubs the back of his neck warily, as if he’s not sure this is the right answer. Or maybe he just doesn't want to be here right now at all, having this conversation with you.

“Getting some things,” you echo. “Are you…” You’re not sure what you want to ask right now. “Leaving?”

“What’s the point of questioning me about it? Aren’t you doing the same thing?” Lucas’s eyes shift to one of your suitcases in the middle of the living room, still sitting open.

“Yes, but...you don’t even understand why I’m doing it. You’re just leaving. Are we both just going to abandon this house without even talking it out? That’s just the end of everything?” Now that you’ve found your voice again, the questions keep coming.

Lucas comes forward to step into the kitchen. “What would you like to say? What else is there that I need to know? You were drunk and lonely, weren’t you?” That phrase comes out with a sneer, which makes you wince like you’ve just had something physically thrown at you.

“I’ve spent months agonizing over this shit, Yukhei. I’ve felt completely alone and in the dark here. I had the abortion, I’ve been to therapy, I haven’t even looked at alcohol since then. I’ve seen the error of my fucking ways, believe me, and I still feel no more reassured about any of this.”

“Do you think that’s going to solve everything?” Lucas says, crossing his arms and staring at you from across the room.

“I don’t know! Maybe I didn’t do it for you. I did it because I didn’t want to have another man’s child! I did it for myself, to feel back in control of myself!”

“Y/N, you can do whatever you need to make this easier for you, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to come running back to you.”

You sigh heavily and sit down in the kitchen chair, rubbing your hands over your face. “Maybe it’s a mistake for me to hope we can work something out at this point, but I long ago realized that living without you is next to unbearable. Why do you think I’m trying to get the fuck out of here? Everything here is ‘you.’” You don’t look at his eyes during any point of this speech, just instead staring at your hands where they meet on the table. “I see that if you want to leave, I won’t be able to stop you. But at least give me a proper explanation and a clean break like a human being.”

Lucas falls quiet again. You think he might just leave you there to get his stuff and go back to wherever he wants to go, but he sits in the chair across from you. You still don’t look at him.

“I also missed you a lot,” he admits, quietly, as if he doesn’t want to say it where it can be heard. “I didn’t really want to. But. Obviously, those emotions don’t just go away…”

You simply nod, not knowing the right way to respond to that. 

“You still wear your ring,” he says it flatly, like it’s an insignificant observation. You can’t tell whether he’s surprised at it or judging you for it, for whatever ridiculous reason.

“Did you not want me to?” you say, irritated. “We are still married. And I don’t need the people at work asking questions.”

He nods as if he’s just understood something and the realization of it has made him even more displeased. “Right, of course, it’s all about looking good. Maintaining the lie, right?”

“It’s not about that,” you snap. “You should know that more than anyone. No one even knows I’m fucking married to you except Sharia. God forbid I don’t want to hear more bullshit from Daniel about my marriage, I guess.”

Lucas’s face is still for a moment, and then his eyebrows crease. “Does he still bother you?” The words leave his mouth tentatively.

“Of course he does, Yukhei. Whenever I can’t get away from him completely. He’s not just going to stop because my life has turned to shit and my husband hates me—which he doesn’t even know.”

Lucas shakes his head and sighs. “Don’t guilt trip me.”

“I’m only stating what clearly seems to be a fact now.” Then you get up from the table, weary of the conversation and even more hurt by the fact that he didn’t try to deny your statement. “Now, if you want to get your stuff, go get it. I won’t hold you up any longer. Though—you should think about preparing for a divorce if you’re really done here.” You walk out of the kitchen before waiting for his response, missing the way he stiffens in his seat.

You sit in the living room fussing over your suitcase for a long while before he decides to walk into the room. “Look...I don’t know how to feel about all this right now, but I’m not sure if that’s what I...want.”

“...What.”

“Y/N. I’m saying, I don’t think I want to...separate.”

“Then what do you want? To keep dragging me around with an empty marriage while you move on with your life? Just file the damn papers or I will.” You’re angry with him now, and a few tears slip out. You feel like you’re being thrown around at this point, and you have no clue what his intentions are. You get even more upset with yourself for crying, though there’s no reason to be.

“I don’t fucking know. Just not...this.” Lucas is deflated and maybe just as lost as you are, though you don’t want to acknowledge that while you’re still upset at his indecisiveness. He sits on the couch with you, and you’re partly surprised that he even still wants to be anywhere near you with how he was acting and talking earlier.

He seems a little shaken to see you openly crying, as if he’s never seen it happen before. Like all of this is once again new to him. Lucas puts his head in his hands, bearing a striking resemblance to the image of him doing the same thing the day you told him what happened.

You both make for a pitiful sight on the sofa like that, sitting as far from each other as possible but hurting over the same thing. Finally, Lucas takes his hands away from his face and, tentatively, as if you might shove him away, reaches for your hand. He covers it with his own, curling his fingers around yours slightly.

You stare at his hand on top of yours, bare without his ring, unsure how to react to it. You look to your side, though he doesn’t meet your eyes at first. There’s another crease between his brows.

“Just let me...figure some things out. We—we could...figure some things out, together. Before we...think about taking that step.” This response is still just shy of giving you a definite answer, but it gives you a small, painful hope that maybe things aren’t destroyed forever.

You nod, wiping some of your tears away. You’re almost afraid to take your eyes from where your hands are joined, as if you’ll discover it was just some mirage or figment of your imagination if you look away.

“Okay...we can do that. If...you want to try.”

Lucas looks at you fully now, his eyes impossibly deep with things he’s already said and has yet to say to you, and nods back—a tiny movement, but it’s there and true all the same.

#lucas scenarios #lucas fic #lucas imagines #lucas angst #wayv #lucas #wayv lucas #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct fic #nct angst #ambw #ambw fic #ambw kpop #ambw imagines #ambw scenarios #ambw angst #kpop ambw

[angst-fairygodmother]

“Are you planning to stay glued to my side this whole evening?” with diego alsooooo i love youuuuu

A/N: Thank you for choosing Fic Flash Pass (happy much-belated birthday). I would like to express through the following series of emojis how excited I am to finally write a fic for you: 😁💙💙🎉🎈😁 Word Count: 2517

Being close friends with Diego Hargreeves meant putting up with a lot of weird shit over the years. It meant late nights where he showed up injured or exhausted and needing your help. It meant occasional knives flying past your head when you startled him. It meant his paranoia and lectures about how it wasn’t safe to walk home alone at night, even though he had taken the time to teach you self-defense early on in your friendship. For a while it meant repeated “just for one night” instances of his strung-out brother sleeping on your couch (because he was refusing treatment, and even though he wouldn’t admit it Diego cared enough about him to want to make sure he’d be okay). And you put up with all of it, without complaint, because Diego was worth it. 

You thought at this point that nothing he asked of you could surprise you anymore. And then he asked you to attend his sister’s wedding. Or really, practically begged you to be his date.

You were pulling a bullet out of his shoulder, lecturing him about how he was taking too many unnecessary risks, and if he was going to keep going after bad guys then he needed to start wearing better protective gear and he was damn lucky that his knife-harness was there to mitigate the wound. 

“Allison’s getting married,” he blurted out, cutting you off before you could start in on the second, familiar branch of your lecture (that he should really be getting his wounds treated by someone with actual medical expertise, not just a little first aid training). 

“Oh,” you said, not quite a question but also not quite not. You weren’t sure what he wanted you to do with that information.

“I have to go to the wedding,” he continued stiffly. 

“That makes sense. She is your sister.” You raised an eyebrow. “You aren’t asking me to muck up this bullet removal so you have an excuse not to, are you?”

You were loath to admit that if that was indeed what he was asking, you might just do it. There wasn’t a lot you wouldn’t do if he asked, and after all this time you knew how to do it in a way that wouldn’t actually cause him worse harm. 

“I can’t go alone!” His eyes were wide and frightened, as if attending Allison’s wedding was a fate less than death that he had been asked to undertake. You couldn’t help but laugh at the expression. 

“I’m sure you can find a date, handsome guy like you. And Patch is still a friend, so she’d go. If only out of pity.” You smiled teasingly. 

“Will you…” he mumbled. “W-w-will you go with me?”

Your breath caught in your throat. Part of you questioned if you heard him correctly. But if anything, his stutter made it more sure than less. He only stuttered when something was really emotional for him, when his mind was fighting itself. But you didn’t understand why (or maybe you did and just didn’t want to admit it). 

“If you still want me to after the next five minutes,” you said, trying to calm your racing heart by collecting the supplies for the next part of his care. “Then I would be happy to go to your sister’s wedding with you, Diego. What else are friends for?”

“Why wouldn’t I--” his question was cut off with a shout of pain as you pressed a cloth soaked in antiseptic to the wound.

“Because of that,” you smirked, quickly cleaning the area and covering it over with gauze and binding.

~

The ballroom where the reception was held was beyond opulent: towering flower arrangements, crystal chandeliers and gleaming golden candelabras, and every spare inch draped in ivory silk. You could practically see yourself reflected in the polished surface of the floors. 

“Wow,” you breathed. “Your sister really spared no expense…”

Diego shrugged uncomfortably. “Allison’s always been a little dramatic,” he mumbled.

“It’s pretty,” you turned to smile at him. “Anyway, you should go mingle and at least say hello to her. I’m going to find our table.”

Diego followed you as you wandered off into the dining portion of the reception hall. When you raised a questioning eyebrow, he mumbled something about it making sense for him to know where the table was too, so he didn’t have to hunt later. You shrugged. 

After setting down your purse and shawl, you decided to mingle, maybe pick at a few of the hors d'oeuvres laid out on long, extravagant table displays. Once again, Diego trailed just behind you. You tried to ignore the oddity of the behavior as you picked up a shrimp puff and set it on one of the heavy little china plates. The fact that he wasn’t saying anything as he hovered annoyed you most of all. 

After the third conversation that you tried to have with other guests that ended in an awkward glance over your shoulder at a glowering Diego and a hasty retreat with a half-assed excuse, you decided you’d had enough. He hadn’t gone to offer his congratulations to Allison and Patrick. He hadn’t so much as looked around for his other siblings or anyone else he might know. He hadn’t eaten anything. He just...followed you. It was very odd behavior and it was getting on your last nerve.

Setting your empty dish down heavily on an empty table space, not even caring whose it was, you turned to him, arms folded over your chest.

“Alright, that’s it,” you snapped, not caring who might overhear. “What is going on with you?”

He frowned, puzzled and tried to deny that there was anything going on. 

“Oh, don’t give me that bullshit. You have been looming and lurking and following me around like a lost puppy since we got here. Are you planning to stay glued to my side this whole evening?”

His frown deepened, and he opened his mouth to speak, only to snap it shut again with an audible click. 

“Because if you are, the least you can do is dance with me.” You held out a hand. “It is a wedding after all.”

Hesitantly, he took your hand and let you lead him out onto the dance floor. He pulled you close to him, one hand in yours and the other wrapped around his waist. You placed your free one on his shoulder, his suit jacket soft and warm beneath your palm. You felt your face heat under his gaze, now focused down on you and you tried not to let it faze you, focusing on a slight crease in his lapel as if that would let you escape it. 

The two of you twirled across the floor, falling into easy step together, each surprised at the other’s dancing abilities. 

You licked your lips nervously. Something about being here like this with him was making you think about things you had pushed aside (namely the crush on him that you had developed and decided early on in your friendship wasn’t worth the risk of losing him in your life, fearing that you could never compare to his detective) and you wanted it to stop. But at the same time, for a moment everything was perfect, and you didn’t want to ruin it. 

“So…” you said eventually as the two of you slowed and the song changed. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

His hand shifted slightly, tugging you a little closer to him, your face practically pressed to his chest, as the next song began. As you danced and he avoided answering your question, you decided to find the answer on your own. You knew him well enough. 

There was a slight tremor in his hand which gripped yours a little tighter than necessary. His jaw is set tightly, twitching just enough for you to suspect he’s grinding his teeth together. His breath is a little short. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was...afraid?

“Seriously, Diego, are you alright?” you murmured, trying to catch his eye. 

He startled at the sound of your voice. “What?”

“You’re acting really strangely and you seem...upset. You haven’t spoken to your sister at all even though it’s her wedding.”

“I’m not upset. And I’ll talk to Allison later, she’s busy with all her other guests,” he argued, eyebrows knitting in a frown. 

“You’re not upset? Okay, then explain to me why you’re holding my hand so tightly you’ll be getting a bill from my physical therapist on Monday.”

He dropped your hand like it had burned him and stuttered out an apology. 

“Relax, it was a joke.” You frowned. “Let’s go out to the balcony. I feel like we both could use some air.” 

Without waiting for an answer you grabbed his arm and dragged him in the direction of the double doors and the candle-lit, if slightly chilly, night. As soon as you passed out of the crowded room, you could feel the tension pour off of Diego and you breathed a sigh of relief. The pair of you moved to lean on the rail, shoulders just barely brushing. 

“I...don’t belong here,” he sighed. “I’m just going to screw something up.”

“What are you talking about Diego?”

He shook his head. “Allison has this grand life. Big movie star L.A. life, and if I talk to her I’ll...what would we even talk about? We haven’t seen each other in years. I haven’t seen any of them in years.”

“That’s not true, you saw Klaus six months ago,” you joked, not sure how else to comfort him. 

You knew what he was trying to say. He felt like Allison had moved on, and built a new life where her siblings were unwelcome, the invitation to her wedding a mere formality that for some reason all of them, save, thankfully, their father, had accepted. And on some level, you thought, he was probably right. 

“Is that why you were nervous to ask me to be your date? Not that I’m a date-date, but I can imagine why having a real date would make things weirder and that’s really not the point, anyway...Because you don’t think you should have come at all?” you asked.

He shrugged. 

“No,” you said, turning to face him and taking one of his hands in both of yours. “Please talk to me Diego. Maybe I can help?”

“How could you possibly help, Y/N?” he snapped, running his free hand through his short-cropped hair. 

“I don’t know! You’ve got me playing damn guessing games when I came to this wedding where all I know is you and the junkie in the corner talking to the air,” you gestured back through the doors at Klaus who was doing exactly that, “for you. Because I care about you, and I thought maybe you needed, maybe you wanted me here. So you tell me Diego. Or maybe I should just leave.”

“No!” his eyes widened at the threat. “Please don’t leave.”

You pressed your lips together, feeling tears well up in your eyes and praying that no one thought to glance outside to where the two of you were arguing. If there was a way to ruin a wedding it was the bride’s brother and his date having a screaming match. You had said your piece, so now you watched him expectantly, waiting for him. 

He sighed deeply and turned away from you, eyes seeming to focus on a point off in the gardens below somewhere. 

“I knew this whole thing was going to be uncomfortable,” he explained very slowly, and you instinctively reached over again to cover one of his hands with yours where it gripped the bannister tightly. 

“But I thought it would be worse not to come at all.”

You nodded in understanding, leaning closer to hear him better over the wind and the din from inside. 

“And everything’s easier when...with you So I thought...”

Your heart skipped a beat. In all the years of your friendship, he had never said anything like that before. You knew that you counted him among your best friends, and that he didn’t have very many friends in general, making you one of a rare and exclusive caliber, but to hear him come this close to admitting it was strange and new and oddly thrilling.

“But,” he glanced back at you before returning to his vigil, “you looked so beautiful tonight that,” he shook his head, “instead it reminded me of how incredible you are, and how it’s just one more thing for me to ruin.”

“Diego,” you frowned. “I don’t understand. What’s one more thing for you to ruin? My outfit? I would be pretty pissed if I was dressed like this and you pulled your usual superhero nonsense and bled all over me or something but I don’t think that’s going to be a problem here.”

“Don’t joke, Y/N. Not when I’m trying to be serious.”

“I’m not joking Diego. Okay maybe I am a bit, but only because I’m not following you. What don’t you want to ruin?”

“You!” he cried, throwing himself back around to face you. “I don’t want to ruin you!”

You resisted the urge to call attention to the innuendo there, especially since doing so would probably include admitting that you would not mind it a wink. Instead you bit your lip, thinking fast and trying to piece together what he was saying to you, about you.

“How could you possibly ruin me Diego?” you blurted out. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“I’ve already started you know,” he mused softly. “You don’t even flinch anymore when I show up injured and need you to stitch a wound or dig out shrapnel or glass. You have such a good heart and care so much, I don’t want you to end up...like me.” 

“There is nothing in the world that could get me to dress in leather and fight bad guys and get punched a lot. And the rest of you, I don’t see how it would be a bad thing to be like.”

He scoffed. 

“I’m serious Diego. After all, you have the biggest, sweetest heart and soul in the city. Or you wouldn’t be out there every night saving people. It’s what I love most about you.”

Your hand came up to cup his jaw instinctively, marveling at the feel of his stubble against your palm and how perfectly fit it seemed to be to rest there. He looked beautiful in the dim lights, like an artist’s painting of a hero or a god. You breath caught in your throat as he leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut. 

“Y/N, I…” he reached blindly out for you, catching your other wrist in his hand, sliding down hesitantly to lace his fingers through yours. 

“Diego, unless I’ve read the room completely wrong, there’s nothing more that needs to be said,” you chuckled. “So just shut up and kiss me, already?”

#don't think I forgot my promise for your birthday to jump your first request/a fic for you once we shared a fandom to the top of the queue #this ended up very Soft so I hope that's cool #😅 #Diego Hargreeves x Reader #The Umbrella Academy fic #p.s. LOVE YOU TOO

[ladynestaarcheron]

Prompt idea: cassian and nesta’s first disagreement / fight as a couple (if it’s LPG verse i’ll be super happy but it’s up to you how you want to go about it hihi)

anything to make you super happy!! it’s lpg-verse, but you don’t really have to read lpg to understand it. it’s a few months after nesta goes to illyria with cassian.

and hey, has everyone signed up for the fandom-wide holiday gift exchange? it’s gonna be loads of fun and the deadline’s coming up, so please hurry!

---

In his half-millennium of life, Cassian has had plenty of occasions to look back and marvel at the stupidity of his youth. Like how he used to think garish scars and bruises were good ways to show girls he could fight. Or when he thought that he could just sleep off getting blackout drunk. Or when he loved War Week.

It’s not that he hates it, exactly. He may be the General Commander, but he’s still a soldier. Still addicted to the adrenaline of the drills. An intense desire to prove himself, even now, by besting anyone who crosses him in the ring.

But…he is the General Commander. And War Week isn’t just about him giving his all, it’s about ensuring the entire military is in top form. And considering a significant portion of the military just died a few months ago, and another part are actively trying to de-throne Rhys, and the trust he has spent centuries building with these people is falling through...well. It has not been the best week.

It hasn’t been a week, either—it’s the tenth day of this nightmare that it finally ends. All drills have been run, all reports filed, all meetings concluded with the grim confirmation of their worst suspicions: Hybern has weakened them considerably.

And that and all it entails will be there tomorrow morning. So tonight, he can go home, finally, and drown his sorrows…in Nesta.

Just thinking of her tugs his lips upwards. He’s barely slept all this time, always something to do, oversee, correct, and on and on and on, but it’s finally over for just a bit. It’s nearly six in the evening, and the first meeting to discuss reform is tomorrow at eleven, so he has till then with her.

He shivers, not because of the windchill, as he imagines what seeing her again will be like. Has she missed him as much as he’s missed her? Has she planned on welcoming him back into their bed, like he had at every spare moment? Maybe she’s even cooked for him. Maybe duck, like he always makes for her. Perhaps she’s set the table the same way he did on the night he first kissed her—properly, he means, without any imminent existential threat looming over them—with the fine china, like a real homecoming. Maybe she’s dressed up. If she’s dressed up, he should dress up, too. What if she’s laid out clothes for him? She’s always reading about grand romantic gestures, isn’t she? Perhaps she’s been inspired.

Every wild fantasy spurs him faster, and before long he lands at his house, throwing open the door before even setting both feet on the ground.

“Nesta!” he calls, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice. Gods, he’s missed her so much.

But one look inside tells him there’s no romantic dinner awaiting him. There’s only a plate drying on the rack.

Even so, Cassian can’t keep the grin off his face. If Nesta’s not here, then she’s in their bedroom.

On any other day, he might’ve teased her right back and taken his time coming to see her, even made himself dinner until she gave up and came to see him, but it’s been ten very hellish days. He moves quickly to the room, as if participating in one of his drills.

The door’s closed, but he can smell her, feel her, and gives himself just a moment to adjust before he opens it—

Nesta. There, beautiful, alive, in bed, waiting for him, perfect—reading a book. 

She doesn’t look up.

Cassian bites his cheek to keep from grinning. So that’s how she wants to play this.

“Hello, Nesta,” he drawls.

She dutifully ignores him, her dark curls bouncing slightly as she angles her head to the side to flip a page. Oh, how he’s missed this, seeing her read in bed. She sits beside him some evenings, head on his chest, one hand in his, the other holding her book.

“Did you miss me?”

At this, Nesta—finally—acknowledges his presence. She lifts her cool gaze to meet his and holds it for three seconds before looking back down at her book.

Cassian’s grin falters. That wasn’t very fun.

But he saunters up to her anyway, and, laying down on his side, reaches his hand over to slowly crawl up her thigh. “This wasn’t the warm welcome I was expecting, you know.”

Nesta jerks her leg away from him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says, voice icy.

Cassian sits up immediately. This isn’t a game. He looks over her wildly, but her face and posture show only anger.

He reaches his hand out again, tentative, this time, and to hers, not her thigh. “Nesta,” he says, putting as much concern into his voice as he can without her accusing him of being condescending.

“How was War Week?” she shoots at him.

He blinks. “Awful,” he says, smiling uneasily. Has she heard something about it that upset her? He racks his brain, trying to think of what it might be…she knew Rhys was going to be there. Is she upset because they saw each other?

“Are you sure you’ve finished everything?”

He gives up rifling through everything. Nothing’s coming up, and frankly, he doesn’t want to waste anymore of the hours he has to spare with her arguing.

“What are you upset about?” he asks.

Nesta snaps her book shut and straightens her back. She faces him head-on, anger radiating off her like he imagined joy would this night. “You said it would be a week. It’s been ten days.”

Oh.

Right.

“I’m aware,” he says lightly. “It was only meant to go on for a week. But apparently, we’re all completely out of shape. Good news for anyone trying to overthrow the crown,” he adds, touching the tip of her nose. Her glare doesn’t falter, so he continues, in a much softer voice, “Do you really think I enjoyed finding out I had three more days of War Week, when I had planned our reunion out a thousand times in my mind? I wanted—“

“I don’t care what you wanted,” she hisses. “I want to know why I had to find out you weren’t coming back from Emerie instead of from you.”

“I couldn’t come back to tell you—“

“Is the art of letter writing too advanced for your brain to comprehend?”

There’s more than just ire in her stormy grey eyes. Cassian can sense pain, too. “I…I know I should’ve written, but I was just so busy. There was always something—and you know how stupid Illyrian males are, don’t you?” he says with a grin. “And obviously, you like it a lot, but I was never particularly into—“

“Is everything a joke to you?” she demands.

Cassian shuts his mouth. She hasn’t been angry at him like this since…before they started this—thing between them. These past few months have been so easy. Blissful. She doesn’t get mad anymore, only vaguely irritated, and even then, only to give him reason to appease her. But this is an argument. A fight.

How did they resolve those before they got together? Cassian can’t remember ever emerging victorious; only miserable and angry. Nesta’s favour is earned through months of good behavior alone.

But he doesn’t have months. He only has fourteen hours before he has to leave.

“Of course not,” he says, voice low. “It’s just I’ve missed you so much—“

“And how do you think I felt?”

There’s that pain again, etched more clearly on her face now. It thins out her cheeks and tightens her jaw.

“Do I even matter to you? Or do you think you can just waltz in and out as you please and—“ Cassian cuts her off with a tight grip on her hands.

“Don’t say things like that,” he says, serious. “You know what you are to me.”

“You couldn’t find the time to send word you were going to be three days late,” she says, not trying to break out of his hold but not pulling him closer, either. She bites her lip for a moment, hesitating, before she says, “And you haven’t even apologized.”

He goes through their conversation quickly in his mind and swears inwardly. “I’m sorry, Nesta,” he says. “For being late and for not telling you and for not apologizing right away.”

Nesta’s shoulders relax slightly and she pulls her hands away from him to clasp them tightly in her lap. “Well, I don’t want to forgive you.”

This, he decides, is not the right time to suggest all the ways he can make it up to her. Instead he moves closer, and says, “I didn’t write because I was sure I would be here. I spent every second of the overtime doing everything I need to so that I could come back as fast as possible. I didn’t think things would keep coming up, and each time they did, I was sure that it would be the last.”

“Well,” Nesta says, “you’re very ill-prepared for war.”

Cassian grins. “You can see why we needed the extra practice.”

“Hmph,” she says, not smiling. “For future reference…don’t ever do that again.”

“I won’t,” he says immediately. “I promise.”

This calms her considerably, and she leans back against the headboard. “All right, then,” she says, prim. “You’re forgiven.”

His heart skips a beat. His next breath of air feels cooler, more refreshing, somehow. He hadn’t realized just how anxious this has made him. But he doesn’t tell her, doesn’t thank her, worried of what he might say and how she might react. So he puts a hand on her thigh again. “Are you sure you don’t want to hear any of my other reasons? They’re very convincing.”

“No,” she says decisively. “But you can start proving your worthiness right now.”

He grins again, and then he does.

Later, tracing lines up and down her stomach, he says, “You know, you were only angry because you missed me so much.”

Nesta sniffs. “I most certainly did not.”

And there’s the game he’s been waiting for. Definitely worth the extra three days. Although he’ll never catch her off guard like that again. Besides, Nesta’s far more fun to play with when she’s the one setting the rules, anyway.

#asks #anon #acotar ficlet #nessian #fic prompt #this was fun!! thank you for this:) #brought to you by someone who used to hate war week with all her heart and soul

[fullsunalicia]

May I request a werewolf au for jaemin please?🥺👉🏻👈🏻 I’m a sucker for supernatural aus and your writing ‘s are extraordinary!! I absolutely love them! So please?🥺🥺

destiny — NJM

you’re not close with na jaemin, but you know plenty of rumors to give you a vivid expectation. so when he starts courting you, you’re not sure if you can believe him. you learn, though, that it’s so hard to resist a womanizer when he’s as charming as jaemin, and is destined to be yours forever.

jesus christ na jaemin is too pretty to handle. look at that gif omg / hello love! thank you so much for your kind words. i’m glad i can please someone with my writing 🥺 i hope you enjoy wolf jaemin

werewolf!jaemin x witch!reader / college au

Temptation is a sin. So is Na Jaemin.

There’s just that hazy air around him that makes everyone look again. Too gorgeous to be real, and yet he’s standing here, gifting you with a smile that knocks the air right out of you. God’s favorite, falling from heaven. That’s how you’d describe the stunning boy who has been trying for the past few weeks to convince you to go on a date with him.

His face may seem innocent, but the glint in his eye says anything but. You have heard about the many girls, how the shards of their hearts form a trail behind him. Jaemin is easy to please, but hard to keep. Attention is a precious thing, time is money. In his case, time is pleasure. A pretty face may lure him in, but nothing ever makes him stay.

And yet he’s been chasing you for a month now. The first to pick you up from your locker, a freshly brewed coffee in hand just for you. For someone that walks the earth as a god in a human body, Na Jaemin shouldn’t bother to learn your coffee orders by heart. He shouldn’t be the one making you laugh out loud in your least favorite classes and he should not be making the effort to make your heart skip.

Love is discardable, recycable. Never long-term. That’s what Jaemin says. So why is he sitting here, pouting, because you’re denying him the affection he so desperately craves? There are thousands of girls who’d kill to take your place. It drives you insane to be kept in the dark - you want to crack the wolf boy’s head open and look inside, cast a spell on him and make him spill his guts.

Nobody can know you’re a witch. Especially not Na Jaemin, part of the wolf pack that despises your kind. Everybody knows the stories, of Mark Lee and the woman he gave his heart to, cursed by a witch’s envy. That’s why you stay quiet and endure Jaemin’s flirting, and the only reason you resort to investigate the human way.

“What are you doing here, Nana? Be honest.”

Jaemin furrows his brows. “Now, what’s that supposed to mean, baby?” The nickname falls so easily from his lips. It feels just right, because why wouldn’t you be his baby? Who would pass up the chance to taste the honey dripping from his lips, the lies he speaks that taste like bitter-sweet candy? You’ve met plenty of guys who play hearts like a particularly interesting game of cards, but never have you seen someone like Jaemin. Love is like a lottery to him, and you’re the billion dollar prize - the way he treats you makes you feel like the most precious thing in the world, of undescribable worth. You know Jaemin is affectionate with everyone, and yet it makes your heart burst when he cradles your waist like it’s fine china. Carefully. Respectfully. To him, you’re art. Sadly, he’s not a critic - only the collector.

You let him rub his cheek against your stomach as if he’s a needy cat. There’s no use stopping him, since Jaemin gets the attention he desires one way or another. It should make you feel sick. And yet you only pray that he continues playing this game of push and pull, hope that he keeps trying. You’re a masochist, an addict. Na Jaemin is your fix.

The sunlight frames Jaemin’s face like a halo when he leans back and smiles at you. This is the face of Michelangelo’s David, the perfect reincarnation of Adonis. His looks are surreal. Like cut-out diamonds, Jaemin’s jawline seems sharp, but is soft to the touch. Beauty in controversy. Lust and virtue in one. Any angel at the gates to heaven would rip their hair out of trying to sort Jaemin - too gorgeous for hell, too sinful to stay in paradise. “Go bother someone else,” you mumble, desperately trying to break the spell you’re under. Na Jaemin makes you dizzy, and he knows. “I bet Haechan’s going to cuddle you. So go, shoo!”

“I don’t want Haechan.” A loud yelp is tugged out of you when Jaemin tugs you down to sit next to him, and in the next second you’re being embraced. Strong arms curl around your body, holding you close, hiding you away from the world. The most wonderful feeling in the world. “I want you.”

Love has never treated you right. Several nights have been wasted on boys and their white lies, on let-down crushes and unrequited feelings. Maybe it’s because you’re a witch, and bad luck follows you everywhere.

Just for once in your life, you want to be treated like a princess. You want Jaemin to look at you and see everything he ever dreamt of coming true. But that’s impossible. You know it very well.

That’s why you untangle yourself, sad smile on your lips, sorrow weighing heavy on your heart. Love is for girls that aren’t afraid to fall. “Sorry, but no,” you tell Jaemin, and tears prick at your eyes when you stand up and walk away.

You will never fall again.

— ❦ —

Sadness tastes like cheap raspberry vodka and salty tears. Atleast that’s what your intoxicated brain thinks it is, as you lean your head against the bathtub and close your eyes in an attempt to drown out all the loud music outside. It’s not like you to get wasted beyond control, but it’s hard to look at Kwon Eunbin’s face and say no when she begs you to take a shot with her. And another one. And another one after that.

Did it matter to Eunbin that you don’t like alcohol that tastes like disinfectant? No, of course not. Your best friend’s only job is to get you drunk and make you forget about your stupid infatuation with a certain blueberry-haired boy. Rosé wine and cocktails are long forgotten the second Eunbin takes you into the kitchen and makes you play drinking games against the frat brothers living here. Now it’s landed you in the only free bathroom inside this house, while Eunbin is searching for some water for you.

Not like she’s too drunk to take care of even herself right now. You’d bet fifty dollars she‘s already forgotten about you because someone lured her to a beer pong table. It’s alright, you forgive her. But it’s not that nice to sit in the bathroom and ponder over the meaning of your existence alone. Your conclusion of what sorrow tastes like isn’t that deep, but it’s the perfect description of the miserable shape you’re in right now. Who the hell even drinks raspberry vodka? It tastes nothing like that. It’s just drinkable bleach that your stomach barely handles.

And yet it’s enough to numb out the butterflies Na Jaemin brings to life inside you. When you close your eyes, his laughter rings in your ears, as if he’s right here with you. The sound is pleasant, calming. Like good music to a trained ear. This is what happiness would sound like if it were a noise. No matter how Jaemin treats love interests, he’s a good person at heart. That’s what makes it so hard to get over that stupid infatuation. It’s impossible to forget about his advances when all you can think about is him volunteering at a shelter and secretly adopting rescue kittens, because his best friend loves them. You think of the adorable smile on his lips when he’s suprised with his favorite snack, and how he gushes love declarations to his friends just because they thought about him. His kindness to strangers. His loyalty to the pack.

Na Jaemin. End of sentence. That’s it.

Perfection is unattainable, a ridiculous concept. You know that, and you still think it’s the only word to properly grasp Jaemin’s personality.

The vodka is doing a bad job from getting your mind off him. You groan, moving to hide your face in your hands. Is the room spinning or is that just you giving out on reality?

“(y/n)?”

It’s not Eunbin. When you look up, you lock eyes with Lee Jeno. It’s heartwarming how concerned he looks, even if you don’t talk that often. You’re only acquiantances. Despite that, Jeno moves to sit down beside you, carefully putting a hand on your shoulder. “Everything alright?” he asks, voice quiet. You strain to even hear him properly, booming trap music making the house rumble.

It’s ridiculous, but your inebriated brain doesn’t even think about worrying about yourself. Grinning, you point at the boy’s blonde locks, tousled and curled. His girlfriend liked to play around with his hair often. It’s cute he lets her style it. “Since when’s your hair dyed?” You drawl out. Your tongue feels weirdly heavy, as if it’s not supposed to be there. Something makes you want to bite down, but the very small part of you that’s still sober screams not to do it. “Last time I saw you, it was still black. Did your girl do that?”

He laughs. It’s a nice sound, but it’s not like Jaemin. It doesn’t make your heart skip several beats and stutter like a broken record. “You’re about to pass out in our bathroom and yet you ask me about my hair?”

“Yeah. It looks really, really cool. I didn’t think any other hair color would suit you, but now that I see it, I dig it. Good job to the hair dresser.”

“Thanks.” Jeno chuckles, and then he helps you sit up. The many shots took their time to hit you, but now they all mess with you at once. Thankfully, you have a very good friend who keeps you up. “I’ll pass it along. But first, can I get you some water? Do you want to lay down? There’s a spare room downstairs because Renjun’s out of the house right now.”

Fear suddenly floods your senses. Eunbin hasn’t returned, and you don’t want to be left alone again. If Jeno goes now, you’ll probably start crying from the amount of overthinking you’ve been up to. “Don’t leave, please,” you plead Jeno. He pets your hair, like you’re some sort of cat. It’s strangely enjoyable.

“(y/n), you need some other drink besides alcohol. You’re going to have the biggest hangover otherwise.”

Oh, there is no way to avoid that. If Jeno knew how much you had downed this evening ... But you don’t tell him, instead shaking your head. “Don’t wanna be alone. ‘M sad.”

Jeno cocks his head. There’s something in his eyes that you can’t read, unfathomable. Like this, he somehow looks younger. You wonder if cocking his head is a habit he picked up from being a wolf, but asking that would be weird. The man seated infront of you takes the decision out of your hands. “You want me to get Jaemin?”

You don’t know what possesses you, but you nod instantly. Moving on instinct, of course. The second Jaemin is mentioned, your fears settle. Your heart calms down. What is it about that name that makes you feel so much at home?

“Okay,” Jeno breathes out. He squeezes your shoulder one last time, before standing up and leaving the bathroom. Time seems to pass so slowly. Being in a bathroom drunk always feels like staying in an alternate dimension. It’s just God and you now, no matter if you’re religious or not. It’s an unwritten rule.

Your audience with a deity doesn’t last long, though it feels like eternity. When the door opens again, Jaemin enters, the door clicking into the lock as he closes it. “Baby,” he laughs. How dare he mock your misery? “I didn’t even know you drink at parties.”

Your actions are out of your control the second Jaemin settles beside you. Without hesitation, you move to climb on his lap, arms moving around his waist and keeping him there. This is fine. This is okay. He wouldn’t mind, right?

For a moment, Jaemin tenses below you. In that split second, you think rationally again. Maybe you had crossed a boundary. You should’ve asked before initiating this. What the hell were you thinking? But Jaemin bows over you, and then your mind just blanks. You get lost in the way he embraces you, strong body hiding away yours as he buries his face in your hair and breathes in deeply. Jaemin is warm, like a furnace beneath your touch. Wolves tend to run a little warmer than normal people. The boy in your arms seems to burn you, and yet you wouldn’t move away for a single thing in the world. You’re perfectly content with where you are.

If this is what loving Jaemin feels like, you think that the pain to be endured is worth it. This feels like your own personal heaven. Soft lips meeting the shell of your ear. Whispered compliments. Someone chuckling alongside with you when you comment sarcastically. The universe comes to a halt whenever you’re with this wolf, whether that’s a good thing or not. You don’t want to know. You want to stay like this forever.

“Still with me, baby?”

“Mhm.” You hum, repositioning yourself on his lap. Sadly, he leans away when you lock your arms around his neck, laughing at the whine you let out at that. He’s really enjoying seeing you suffer today. Maybe this is why his friends beat him up all the time. You’ve seen their play fights, both in human and wolf form. “Tired.”

Where Jaemin’s hands meet the exposed skin of your waist, the butterflies come back to life. You weren’t able to drown them, no matter how much vodka you drank. “Did someone ever tell you how cute you are when you’re wasted?” he mumbles, tugging you closer. Your breath hitches when his chest meets yours. He smiles. “Now I need to follow you like a guard dog at every party so nobody else gets to see this. I’d get too jealous.”

“Don’t worry,” you mutter. A hiccup makes you jump on top of him, and you miss the way Jaemin silently groans at that. “Nobody wants me, anyway.”

It’s quiet for a long time. Surely, this would make him stop chasing after you, and now you’ll have to learn how to survive every day without the wolf boy making you feel better with his words. The reassurance he showers you with. The many thumbs-ups, his constant encouragement. Though, now that you think about it - this is the longest Jaemin has ever put up with a girl. Is he humoring you? Did he know about what he made bloom inside your chest, and is hoping you choke on the petals?

When you look up, the wolf’s eyes are in disbelief, almost enraged. It’s a reaction that you didn’t expect, sobering you up just a little. “Is that what you think?” he inquires, the underlying tone in his voice deadly. You gulp. “(y/n), you must know about the many guys standing in line behind me. Are you unaware of all the attention that you draw to yourself? How stunning you are?”

The words tug at your heartstrings. Still, you tell him, “It’s never made anyone stay.”

It’s the truth, a truth he’s going to confirm himself. Na Jaemin can’t be held down. He’s the fleeting warm wind kissing your skin, the sun breaking through the thunder clouds to save your day. He’s not meant to be there forever. Witches don’t run with wolves.

You’d give it all up for him. The spells, the magic, the spirits. Toss everything away to offer Jaemin the world. But Jaemin has galaxies inside his soul, and the universe inside his eyes.

What would he want with your world?

Jeno coughs awkwardly when he enters. It’s the only comment he lets slip about the position you’re both in, instead kneeling down to offer you the glass. The water’s freezingly cold, but you gulp it all down, heart soaring at Jaemin’s praise. Both wolves briefly talk about what’s going on downstairs, and you yawn. Jaemin’s head snaps to yours. Seconds later, you’re lifted off the ground.

“Jaemin!”

Jeno laughs at your shocked squeal. He turns off the lights in the bathroom while you’re carried out, and you lose sight of him as Jaemin brings you to bed. Sighing, you rest your head on his shoulder and close your eyes. You just want to sleep. Forget about this conversation, deal with the problem later. In the morning, you’d let your heart be crushed by the boy who was never yours. And then you’ll have to learn how to survive that.

Jaemin sets you down on a soft bed. His hands cup your cheeks, thumbs swiping over your cheekbones. “We’ll talk tomorrow,” he says. His tone offers no room for discussion. So you nod obediently, and hug him. Maybe you shouldn’t be doing this, but something just keeps urging you to. To feed into the addiction that is Na Jaemin. The more you consume, the more hooked you get. He just laughs when you kiss his cheek, lets you tug him down so he hovers over you. “Stop acting cute. You’re still in trouble.”

“Okay.” You kiss his other cheek. His eyes slip closed when you dishevel his hair, tugging at the locks in an affectionate manner. The color suits him.

You don’t know why you’re feeling this way. The flutter of your heart is a foreign feeling, as weird as the sadness you feel when Jaemin moves away from you. You’re not ready yet, not able to face the flood. You grip his shirt, your legs wound tightly around your waist. The immense wish for him to lay down beside you makes you feel lightheaded.

“(y/n),” Jaemin groans, but he still hides his face in the crook of your neck. You’re aware he can hear your heart racing at his actions, but you can’t find yourself to care. All that matters is that he’s here. You sigh in content when the wolf kisses his way up your throat, dangerously close to your jaw. “Acting cute is not gonna save you.”

You shrug.

The room is dimmed, so you can’t see the look on his face. “Stop,” he deadpans. “I can’t kiss you when you’re drunk. Be a good girl.”

“Will you kiss me, then?”

“When you’re sober and still willing.”

You tighten your grip on his shirt. “Okay. That’s a promise, right? Because otherwise, I’ll get really, really, really upset...”

You wish he wouldn’t tease you by pressing a kiss to your cheeks. You can’t see him, but you know he’s grinning. You just know. He’s Na Jaemin. “Be a good girl,” he repeats. “And in the morning, you’ll get a reward.”

— ❦ —

Your head feels like it’s been split apart. Someone’s punching holes into your temples, and you wince when you move. This is the reason you never drink high-percentage alcohol. It messes you up so much more than your trusted wine.

The bed you slept in feels empty without a body to hold you warm. It smells like your favorite wolf, but you know for a fact he hasn’t been in this room once after you fell asleep. He wouldn’t do anything without your consent. Especially when you’re under the influence. You long for another hug, but once you realize what you’re feeling, you freeze. Everything from yesterday comes rushing back.

“Oh my stars,” you murmur.

Embarrassment feels very hot, and somehow chilling at the same time. It makes the blood rush to your cheeks, your face turning into a heating pack for the hands that move to cover them. You rarely allow yourself to get so intoxicated in public. So why’d it have to happen in near proximity of Jaemin, so you can mess up and spill your secrets?

There’s still a reward to claim, though. You were promised something, and you intend to get what you are owed as a last goodbye. Before Jaemin shifts his attention and forgets about you, as if you were a star in the sky dying and leaving nothing behind but dust. You can still feel his hands on you, the touch imprinted into skin and soul. Many boys had gripped you with the sole intent of using you to their own gain, but Jaemin had held you like you were the most valuable thing in his life. A treasure. A blessing. With just a few soothing words, this wolf had managed to fill the cracks in your heart with his appreciatiation. It’s not enough to make you believe in love, but it’s enough to finally return your bravery to you. So you can finally step over the edge and fall, to surrender to another person. Your heart is battered and bruised, but you’d give it to him without hesitation.

Life isn’t meant to be spent dreading everything. You’ll regret choosing pain over caution, but it’s better than rotting away alone. There is no way to look past all the beautiful things life has to offer. It gave you Jaemin, even if it was for a little while. In his smile, you see the honesty you’ve been craving all your life from other people. His touch makes you forget about the men who treated you like their servant and not the queen they were supposed to worship. When Jaemin listened, you remembered what it felt like to be taken seriously. It doesn’t matter if he’s going to reject you. Anyone who makes you realize your worth again is a person worth let in. So you slip out of bed and start searching for him.

You’re still owed a kiss.

The house is littered with plastic cups and empty bottles. A peek into the many rooms reveals sleeping pack members and girlfriends, and some friends scattered over the couches in the living room. You can’t find Jaemin anywhere, so you head to the kitchen. Maybe he’s already preparing breakfast?

Mark Lee is seated at the kitchen table.

He sits there, looking like he was waiting for you. Perhaps he was. He’s a supernatural creature, blessed with heightened senses and perfect hearing. Your little footsteps must have sounded like booming fireworks to him. The rumors made him out to be a scary person, and if he wasn’t looking at you with such a blank face, you’d be willing to overlook them and call him cute. But it’s not a boy staring you straight in the face; it’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Mark doesn’t speak for a long time. His eyes wander over your appearance, your body still clad in the outfit from yesterday. The house had been too hot several moments ago, but now you feel like shuddering. Nothing is more terrifying than looking someone in the face and being aware of much they loathe you.

There’s no other explanation for the glare etched into his face. No other reason for him to despise you, even though this is the first time he ever saw you. He knows. Knows about the powers you carry in your blood, the very same ones someone else used to curse his girlfriend. The story is widely known, almost a myth, if it weren’t for the many people that watched her collapse straight into Mark’s arms as her veins turned black. A forbidden spell, and yet it was used in broad daylight.

Mark hums. It would’ve sounded nice, if it weren’t so ominous. “Jaemin’s gone to the bakery,” he says, voice cold and void of politeness. This man can’t stand the sight of you. Honestly, if you were in his place, you wouldn’t be able to either. “He told me about having a girl sleeping over. Someone he likes. Someone who’s been toying with his feelings.”

Your throat closes up. You don’t like where this is going.

He pushes away the empty cup he clutched, revealing the claws extending from the tips of his fingers. You try to remind yourself that he can’t control it, that he’s just angry. It’s hard to do when everything inside you screams for you to run away.

The table creaks loudly when Mark leans on it. You can see the sharp nails more clearly now, deadly to the touch. “He didn’t tell me it was a witch,” the wolf continues, as if he wasn’t aware of how much he’s scaring you. “Though that clearly explains why you’re breaking his heart and enjoying it. All you witches can do is destroy and demolish. Is that why you sent us the vampires? Even though you were fully aware they’d turn on you? Did that not matter to you, if it meant being rid of us wolves?”

“I don’t enjoy it,” you whisper. You know hearts can’t physically break, but your chest is hurting, and you’re afraid Mark is going to shatter you instead of Jaemin. This is what you get for believing other people over the person themselves. If only you had realized that Jaemin was serious; the amount of time he had spent on you, so unusual for a boy of his kind, his respectful behaviour, everything. “I didn’t mean to...”

“I don’t care!”

Mark has finally cast aside the cool exterior. Visibly fuming, he watches as you tremble because he had raised his voice. The wolf shakes his head, then his hands, tries to shake off the anger. Stop the transformation. He wouldn’t turn in his own kitchen, would he?

Maybe you should just let him shred you to pieces. It’s what you deserve for treating Jaemin like some boy without feelings. You feel terrible.

There’s a gaping ache growing just beneath your lungs, swallowing up your heart like a black hole. The feeling is excruciating, almost unbearable. You force yourself to bear it. You deserve it, you tell yourself. You deserve it. The words ring in your ears and in your entire body, making way for the hollow feeling that imprints itself inside you.

Mark never looks away. He gauges in your reaction, the dooming realization of the consequences to your actions. “Stay away from him,” he finally tells you. It’s the last nail driven into your coffin. Everything seems to fade away. “Stay away from that boy. He doesn’t deserve to have his heart broken by someone who’s never learnt to appreciate it. You know that. Spare him. Leave, and spare him.”

As a child, you had once swallowed a potion on accident. Your mother tended to leave all her cups and cauldrons everywhere, often forgetting that curiousity manifests itself in her daughter. The liquid had been thick and had burned, all the way down to your stomach, spreading through your body as the agony swallowed you up. Like someone biting away at your organs, ripping a big chunk out of your heart and paralyzing your tongue. You had been lucky the potion wasn’t deadly, only intended to torture, to coax the truth out of someone.

This is a fresh serve of that very potion. The memory is suddenly clear as day, every detail repeating in your mind. The same fire. The same torment. And you’ve ingested it on your own accords again. You never learn.

“Okay,” you say. It’s not you speaking, but it’s your voice, an odd out-of-body experience.

No one stops you as you walk out the house. You never look back.

— ❦ —

Magic in a way, is like poison.

It’s uncontrollable sometimes. When your senses are flooded with intense emotions, it splinters of your fingertips like the sparks of a fire, just as dangerous. It burns down villages and gives life to dead forests. The earth splits to obey it, raising the ocean and capturing the stars to bend to your will. It eats away at your energy every time you use it, sends you straight to the ground after a particularly powerful spell. No one ever taught you how to turn it into a cure. It doesn’t mend the wounds of your soul, only the superficial ones grazing your skin. Humanity does not need magic to save lifes. Medicine reaches out way further than magic does, tackles the problems more effectively. Scars fade away with time. Wounds close up. But your soul never recovers. It remembers everything, for now and eternity. It is going to replay the moment you abandoned Jaemin forever.

The ground is strangely comforting. You’ve been resting on it for a while now, even though your bed is right beside you. The cold is numbing, keeps you awake. Haunted by the many months Jaemin spent chasing after you, you stare at the ceiling and pray for karma to have mercy on you. How blind you were. Now that you’re given the sight, you’re not sure you want to keep it.

You spent many days counting the what if’s. What would’ve happened if you weren’t so stubborn, so gullible. You count them, once, twice, infinitely, then you repeat. Only the stars listen. They hear the secrets you whisper to them, the stories of your burden, and they guard that secret forever. It’s the only thing they can do for you.

When witches mourn, nature mourns with them. Eunbin watches as the weather starts to follow your lead. Thunderstorms darken the skies for days on end, the blighting thunder lighting up your face. She watches as flowers start to wilt at your touch, how your tears make the rain knock at your window like an old friend. You only let her in at night, when the moon watches over you both, heightened magic coursing through your veins. You’re always stronger at night. It’s a trait you passed on to your first creation, the werewolves. The very first curse you ever casted.

“All you witches can do is destroy and demolish.”

Mark is very right.

Eunbin moves to hold you close, but she could very well hold a desk plant. Or a lamp. You never stir in her hold, as motionless as an inanimate object. Once, you had helped her through a very similar phase. The world had come crashing down on Kwon Eunbin the day she lost Yeeun. Nature had suffered under her sorrow, flooding streets and cities as you had desperately tried to anchor Eunbin in the waves trying to drown her. In a sense, witches are very selfish.

She believes you’re anything but.

“(y/n),” she mumbles. The ground groans below her when she shifts her weight, the old wood barely doing its’ job. “Please talk to him.”

You laugh, but it’s void of emotion. Eunbin can’t recognize her best friend in that sound, the woman she considers a sister. You’re like a poltergeist, born out of heartbreak. “And break up the pack because of my stupid feelings?” You scoff. “Sure. Because I couldn’t possibly be more egoistic than that.”

“You’re suffering.”

“I feel like I’m dead, Eunbin.” It’s quiet for a very long time. You finally move, the life returning to your limbs. You twist and turn, clinging to her body like a toddler in need of affection. She graps that chance, embracing you tightly, her arms forming a cage. If that bothers you, you don’t complain. “Just dead. I can barely feel anything. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me - every second I spend thinking about us separated... It’s a vicious cycle. I can’t get any rest. I can’t stop thinking about what could’ve been.”

Eunbin knows about the tales of the children of the moon. How the moon had turned away from the witches and gave her attention to the ones who needed it most, and she gifted the wolves with all her blessings. The promise of a life-changing love, returned in full. Two souls connected by fate. Kindred spirits finding their way back to each other.

But it couldn’t be. No, absolutely impossible.

Eunbin thinks about Yeeun. She thinks of a big, grey wolf, giving her life for Eunbin, fulfilling a promise untold. And she reconsiders.

Some people aren’t meant to be seperated. Eunbin wonders if a long time ago, someone had written your story into the stars, moonlight-tipped fingers connecting your soul to another. Destined to be with the boy with the unruly, blue hair.

It’s been sometime since she last visited the Dream frat. Maybe it was time to return.

— ❦ —

Never in your life has someone thrown stones at your window. You must admit, the experience is more scary than romantic, and you curse all the movies in existence that made you think this was cute. It’s almost embarrassing that some minerals knocking against glass is the reason you snap out of your trance, but you try and pin-point the blame on the fact that nobody’s ever done this before.

A stone flies past your cheek when you open the window. You almost scream.

“Oh my god, (y/n)! I’m so sorry!”

The voice is oddly familiar - and the instant remedy to your vicious cycle. All the sleepless nights melt away as you peak down and look Na Jaemin in the face, a big smile on his lips. Something inside your soul finally clicks and rests, never moving again. Not until something makes the boy below your window walk away. “What the hell?” you exclaim. “What are you doing here?”

Jaemin spreads his arms. “Giving you your reward, of course.”

Guilt pools in your stomach, almost as overwhelming as the happiness that floods you at the realization that he’s really here. Sweet Jaemin, with the honest eyes and heavenly smile. The one you hurt terribly... “Jaemin, you can’t be-“

“Move away from the window, baby,” he interrupts you. Irritated, you lean away; shouldn’t he be angry with you? Upset or disappointed? He’s not even listening to you, but it seems like there is no reason to. Something claws at your window, swinging in without fear.

Now, you really do scream. The rocks were one thing, but Jaemin climbing through your window? This apartment complex is huge, for god’s sake. Did he just scale the side of the building? “Jaemin!” you hiss. “What the hell...”

You never get to finish your sentence. The wolf boy tackles you, pushing you on your bed as he firmly embraces you and rests his head on your chest. Like he’s supposed to be there. Not like you’ve been avoiding him for weeks because Mark Lee was going to rip your head out if you even breathed in the direction of Jaemin. His arms are locked around your waist, holding you there. You’re effectively trapped.

You can’t complain.

Jaemin hums in content when you hug him back, and he eases his weight off of you so you can move and sling your legs around his waist. He nuzzles his face against your throat, breathing in deeply. “Missed this,” he mumbles. “Missed you.”

You let him tug your shirt up so he can rest his hands on your naked waist. It’s like giving him a gift - his eyes light up in giddiness when he finally touches you, feels the warmth of you below his fingertips again. A child seeing the presents on christmas morning. “Missed you, too.” You bite your lip. “But aren’t you mad?”

He ignores you for a very long time. Instead, the man between your legs bunches your shirt up and covers your stomach with his own hand, as if he can’t believe you’re actually there. Beneath his skin. Holding him close. You would’ve never realized that Na Jaemin would be in disbelief of a girl wanting him, but look at him now. Your heart soars at the admiration in his eyes, and they meet yours when your pulse speeds up. It makes a smirk adorn his lips; he’s satisfied with the effect he has on you. For a moment, he looks down again, to the place where your hands hold his against your body. “Did you know that your little witch friend can be really vocal?” he says, ignoring your question completely. Lips leave a trail of heat down your skin as Jaemin traces the outline of your jugular vein. “She looks fairly small, but you should’ve seen her when she scolded the hell out of Mark. Really funny, actually. Wish she would’ve done it sooner...”

“Eunbin?” you inquire, puzzled. “What would Eunbin want with Mark Lee?”

Jaemin stops leaving kisses on you, sadly. He raises his head to look at you, offering you a look right into his soul. You see where the moon had fallen in love with Jaemin, where the lines of human and wolf blurred. Memories that gather and bundle, a messy clutter of emotions. But beneath it all, you find the boy you’ve fallen in love with. In his eyes, you find salvation.

The blankets rustle when Jaemin moves on top of you. He shifts his weight, gripping your waist a little bit tighter to hold you closer. When your chests meet, your hearts start syncing up, shaping a melody of their own. A few moments pass as both Jaemin and you concentrate on it; concentrate on where love meets forgiveness.

It’s weird. When Jaemin had just been an unknown face, you never managed to read him. Now, he’s like an open book that he pulled out himself for you. Put it on your lap and asked you to read it to him, as if he doesn’t know what’s inside it. In your hands lies his heart. Does he know that he’s clutching yours? You hope so.

“Well, you see.” Jaemin presses a kiss to your cheek. “She came in really calmly, actually. Wanted to see me and confirm something. Renjun was about to call for me, but Mark interfered... she brought herself into a lot of danger, coming to our house when she’s a witch. She did it for you. Told Mark that I should talk to you, and he in turn told her it’s best if you stay several continents away from me... I broke his nose for that.”

“Jaemin!”

He shrugs. “Eunbin yelling at him was pretty nice, but not enough to settle my anger. You think I’m going to let him talk about my mate like that?”

This is it. The explanation you’ve been begging the stars for, the root of your vicious cycle. Your mouth falls open in shock. Jaemin watches, half amused, half expectant. Like he’s waiting for something. “You mean to tell me...”

“Yeah. Eunbin found that out. She came to ask me if it was true. It’s what Mark didn’t know, because I didn’t tell anybody except Jeno. You should’ve seen the look on Mark’s face...” Jaemin halts. Worry glazes over his eyes, and it takes you several seconds to understand that he’s worrying about you. “Baby, are you alright? You’re all pale. It’s alright if you reject me, don’t worry, as long as you’re hap...”

Jaemin is suprisingly easy to push down. Usually, you wouldn’t be able to pin down a wolf, but the shock gave you an advantage. Straddling him, you lean down and finally kiss Jaemin.

It’s the key to your cage. The funny tasting cure your mom brewed for the potion you accidentally drank. If sadness tastes like raspberry vodka and salty tears, happiness tastes like chapstick and chewing gum. It’s the only thing you register before Jaemin flips you over and kisses you breathless.

You had been shy, but Jaemin is ruthless. His canines tug at your lower lip, a silent order for you to obey and part your lips. If your fingers clawing at his shoulders hurts him, he certainly doesn’t mention it, too busy drowning in the overwhelming feeling of your tongue moving against his. When you finally push him away to catch your breath, the wolf feels like he got drunk off of you. “That’s one way to claim your prize,” he breathes out.

A long time ago, the moon had mercy on your poor soul. This is what had been waiting for you all your life, hidden in the looming shadows of the supernatural world. A soulmate, born to love and adore you. Destiny feels a little bit like contentment.

You can finally laugh as the wounds that had been inflicted on you heal over, making way for the only emperor of your heart. “This kiss isn’t the prize,” you reply. “You are.”

#this is a mess i’m sorry #lmao can y’all tell i was walking on the edge of involving some smut #physically had to restrain myself JSNSHSM #na jaemin #nct dream #nct #na jaemin x reader #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #na jaemin fluff #nct dream fluff #nct fluff #na jaemin one shot #nct dream one shot #nct one shot #na jaemin scenarios #nct dream scenarios #nct scenarios

[pedros-mustache-main]

l'oiseau chante

“au where the reader is a singer instead of a painter?” for anon

to close out sd!deaky night(s), here’s 3k words of an au of my own au. i got incredibly carried away but had so much fun writing this.

the duet reader sings is called “duo des fleurs” from the opera, lakmé. i recommend you listen to that as the song is described for the full ~experience~. thanks for indulging me the last few days! much love! xoxo!

suggestive content below (discussions of a sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship & a few suggestive moments/language). please be mindful if under 18!

april, 1985.

“no, really! i’ve got to go!” she’s laughing as she says it, pulling out of his arms to make for the door, but john is quick to catch her waist, spin her on her heels, and press his body flush with hers.

he works his mouth along her jaw and mumbles, “but we’ve only just started having fun.”

he can feel her relax against his ministrations, fight the urge to leave. she wants to stay, he knows that. why wouldn’t she? their arrangement is new and exciting, each moment a new opportunity to discover what makes the other tick. thus far, he knows she likes to dabble in gardening and running. she prefers opal over diamonds and shoes over handbags. she’s as luxurious as she is grounded, but she knows what she wants, and she isn’t afraid to go after it. he likes that assuredness. it’s part of why their arrangement works. she’s not looking for anything other than pampering and a roll in the hay, and he can give that to her in heaps, but not much else. his heart is far too guarded after all these lonely years to really hope in anything more.  

still, she’s a hell of a good romp, and he’d rather spend the evening in with her than attend the blasted party freddie planned for—what was it?—the arrival of spring.

“john, please.” she pushes on his chest with the palms of her hands and lifts her brows. “i’ve got this gig, and if i’m late the conductor will flay me alive. you wouldn’t want that, would you?”

he considers, tilting his head to the side. “i’d rather be the one to flay you but—”

aghast, she hits his chest, though bell-like laughter belies her amusement. “john!”

finally, he releases his hold and moves to hold open the front door. “fine. if you must leave me...” he swings his arm toward the crowded street outside.

she grabs her handbag from the catch-all table beside the door. “i’ll ring you in a few days, alright?” she hesitates on the front stoop, her eyes roaming over his face, lower lip between her teeth. she looks... guilty, and he knows why.

“[y/n], we’ve talked about this. i’m fine with it.” he waves to the street. “go on. you shouldn’t be late.”

the worry on her face eases, and she releases a breath. pressing her lips to her finger tips, she waves, manicured nails wiggling in the air. “thanks, love.” she’s already half-way down the steps and to the curb when she looks over her shoulder and says, “i’ll call you!”

nodding, john waves once more then shuts the door with a gentle shake of his head. 

he has his rules for this set-up. 

his number one requirement? don’t ask about queen. he doesn’t like to talk about it, not with her. that’s too intimate, and their relationship is strictly physical. in the six months they’ve been together, they’ve done little more than fuck and smoke cigarettes afterwards and laugh about inconsequential things. they are not dating, not even friends with benefits. there’s a clear line—almost professional—that neither is willing to cross, and he likes that. she makes him feel good, spoils him with attention and fluttering eyelashes, and he pays her rent and buys her expensive things. there’s no need for her to know about his life outside their moments together, and there’s certainly no need for his life outside their moments together to know about her.

like him, she has her own rules for the set-up.

her number one stipulation? no kissing. when she first laid out her terms and conditions for the arrangement, he hadn’t been expecting that. it struck him as odd originally, but the more he’s gotten to know her, the more is makes sense. she’s a professional through and through, both in her singing career and in her pleasure arrangements. for her, kissing is too intimate like talking about queen is too personal for him.

it works. they work. he’s happy, and he thinks she is too. it’s nice to have someone to spoil, someone to hold. it’s been a long time since anyone ever—

he rids himself of the melancholy and starts up the stairs. no reason to mull over it now, not with her at his relative beck and call. 

the party fred has planned for the evening is scheduled to take place at the ritz hotel. it’s the most unreasonable thing john has ever heard of—a party for the beginning of spring—but it’s freddie’s own money, and john doesn’t have the luxury of not showing up. so, he showers, dresses in a tailored suit and tie, and washes down his dread with a shot of scotch before leaving his darkened flat. 

it’s not that he doesn’t like parties. it’s just that he doesn’t like parties where he hasn’t got anyone to be his buffer, and he hasn’t had a buffer for a very long time. she couldn’t very well be his buffer. people would ask questions—fred would ask questions—and the entire thing would fall apart before it even got started.

no, he’d go to the party alone tonight. maybe he’d call her after or wait until the morning. they could go to that little shop on the corner. he knows she’s been eyeing a pair of earrings and—

“mr. deacon?” he’s pulled from this thoughts by the driver. “we’re here, sir.”

john mumbles his thanks and slides from the car. bright and flashing lightbulbs greet him, and he manages a pinched smile for the photographers. a sigh wells within him, but he pushes it down. it’s going to be a long night.

the ballroom set aside for freddie’s party is magnificent, john will concede that. the whitewashes walls are draped in faux-ivy and fresh flowers. the crystal glasses and china plates on linen-covered tables sparkle beneath the light of the chandelier overhead. a golden statue of a woman, twisting to look over her head at trumpeting cherubs, is ensconced in the wall, but fitting for the evening’s theme. at the far end of the room, a wall of frosted mirrors towers over a small orchestra playing to a lilting, classical tune. 

“oh, deaky, i’m so glad you’re here!” ever the man of the hour, freddie meanders through the tight crowd waiting to be seated at their dinner table to pull on john’s arm. “come on, we’re sat near the orchestra.”

john takes freddie’s offering of a champagne flute. he doesn’t normally like champagne, but he’s desperate for anything to take the edge off his sour mood. he feels stiff in his suit, and aside from fred, he hasn’t seen anyone he knows yet. 

“the place looks—”

“smashing, right?” freddie beams and points to an empty chair at the circular table. john drops beside roger and tries not let the fact that there was only a sole chair saved for him be a bother. it shouldn’t bother him, really. it’s just been him for a long time.

“here.” roger hands john a stiffer drink. “it starts to get fun when you’re a little buzzed.” he slings his arm around dominique’s chair and looks over his shoulder, returning to conversation with his partner and jim.

john remains quiet for some time. freddie is the perfect host, darting from table to table in his white coattails, laughing and smiling and kissing the back of any hand he can grab. he is in his element. roger, too, seems at ease. he likes the lavish lifestyle, and any party that is dripping in jewels and rich wine and expensive food is good enough for roger. even brian, who once was so awkward and gangly, leans back in his seat and chats with someone who looks much smarter than john and much more eloquent than anyone else at the table. 

not for the first time, john shifts in his seat, uncomfortable. he doesn’t have a buffer. he could really use a buffer—or a smoke.

he’s about to excuse himself for a cigarette break when freddie steps to one of the two microphones in front of the orchestra. he taps on it, and a sharp boom followed by a squeak fills the room. john leans back, close as he is to the speaker, and cringes.

“oop, sorry about that, dears. well, don’t you all look marvelous from up here? really, never seen such a group of attractive people.” after a smattering of laughter, freddie continues, “i want to thank you all for coming tonight. i know this isn’t some of your scenes—mostly you, roger.” 

more laughter; john just takes another sip of gin. 

“before dinner is served, i have a little treat. to accompany our lovely orchestra, we have two singers here to bless us with their fabulous voices. please give a warm welcome to iona buckley and [y/n] [y/l/n]. now, i’ll get my fanny off the stage to let them work their magic.”

fred slips the microphone back into its stand and scurries to the table, clapping along with the rest of the audience. well, the rest of the audience save john. his hands are occupied with gripping onto the edge of the table for fear he will fall out of his seat in shock.

trailing behind her duet partner, she takes her place behind the first microphone, the one closest to john. she—his paramour, his lover, his baby. she looks radiant, like one of the roses in the table centerpieces. her red satin gown is simple, the straps thin and back open. he swallows hard as his eyes trail to the necklace resting on her sternum. he bought her that. it was his first gift, and there she is standing not twenty feet from him, wearing it, and not a soul knows how he took her in the shower his afternoon. 

john doesn’t catch her eye before the orchestra begins to play but surely she knows he’s there. is her heart in her throat like his heart is in his? are her palms sweating? he twists to grab his drink, needing something tangible to curl his hand around lest he clench his fist to his chest like a damsel in distress. as his back is turned, she begins to sing.

he’s never heard her sing, and the clear, soprano voice that flows from her throat is not what he expected. when she told him she was a singer, that she regularly sang at different gigs, he assumed she must be one of those bar singers floating from venue to venue. never this, never this. he doesn’t understand a word that she sings, but he thinks she must be singing about love. her face is soft, devoid of any worries or cares. for her, the only thing that seems to exist are the words flowing from her mouth and filling his ears. she sings with ease, even the highest and strongest of notes. like the back of her hand, she follows the melody, the roll of the foreign tongue, and the timing of the conductor’s wand. john doesn’t even realize the song is a duet until she pauses, allows a moment for her partner to shine. in that brief pause, her eyes flick to him, and her smile widens. he loses his breath. then she’s back in the spotlight, easily shining over her partner with the clarity and force of her voice. 

tears prick the corners of john’s eyes, and he bites hard on the end of his tongue. fuck—she could be the ruin of him. he’d let her ruin him too—happily.

the party-goers sit enraptured by the singers, by her. even roger has shut his mouth, his eyes wide with interest. john has to hand it to freddie: he’s outdone himself. the decor and the setting and the song—john can practically feel the warmth of spring curl around his frozen heart, and it’s all because of her and her voice. he could listen to it forever; he could listen to this song forever and nothing else.

but the song winds down, ending on the final note of her just voice echoing in the room. there is a moment of expectant silence. john holds his breath, watches as she turns to hand the conductor something then glance over the crowd, glance at him. he starts the applause first, and he is the last to stop clapping, even after she’s taken her seat across the room.

“fuckin’ hell, they were good!” roger hits his palm against the table as dinner is brought out from the kitchens. he reaches over to squeeze john’s shoulder. “i thought deaky was gonna pass out.” 

freddie practically bounces in his chair with glee. “they’re divine! like angels!”

john nods without realizing he’s doing so. “m’yes, she is.”

“she?” roger laughs, tossing his head back. “got a crush there, john? ‘s okay. i wouldn’t blame you.”

john looks up sharply, but says nothing. maybe he does have a crush, as silly as the term is. he’s not fourteen. he’s nearly thirty-four. but, god, if she doesn’t make him sweat like a fourteen year old boy. god, if just the sight of her and the sound of her voice doesn’t send his blood pumping anywhere but his brain. it takes all his willpower not to stand up from the table, stalk across the room, and drag her into the hall. 

he manages to make light conversation with brian about some business related things throughout dinner. several different times, he feels her eyes on his back, and he’s reminded of what they did on his living room carpet two nights ago. he needs her badly, and he’s starting to worry he’ll need her in more ways than one sooner rather than later.

the orchestra strikes up more classical music as dinner ebbs into dessert, and couples begin to float on the cramped dance floor. john waits, biding his time until everyone is good and distracted before he slips across the room. 

she’s sitting alone, scribbling something down in a small, black notebook. before john can say her name, roger beats him to it, appearing as if from thin air. john clenches his jaw and resists the urge to deck his bandmate. she turns at the sound of her name and meets john’s eyes first. she stands and greets them both, accepting roger’s praise with a modest nod her head. 

“i think someone’s fancies you a little,” roger says, squeezing both of john’s shoulders this time. “never seen him so shocked as when you started to sing.”

john openly glares at roger. he shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels then meets her eyes. “you are very talented,” he says.

she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, looks away, as though bashful. “thank you, mr. deacon.”

“john,” he says—and his voice is throaty, deep.

she looks up, smiles, licks her lips.

“well, i can sense sexual tension as good as the rest of ‘em. i’ll leave you to it.” smirking, roger slinks away, surely reveling in the match he thinks he’s made.

john speaks first. “i didn’t realize this was your gig.”

she shrugs. “i didn’t want you to feel obligated to come.”

“i was obligated to come.”

“i didn’t want you coming for me.”

he hesitates. “i meant what i said: you are very talented.”

“thank you.” on a chuckle, she adds, “i’ll warn you next time if i’m to sing at another one of freddie’s parties.”

“after tonight? i’m sure you will sing at them all.”

they stare at one another, eyes searching, hands twitching. it’s all john can do not to grab her wrist and slam his mouth against hers. he wants to taste her, taste the mouth that can cast such a spell over anyone who hears her voice. he wants to claim that mouth as his before everyone, before the world.

but she has her rules, and he respects that.

“come with me,” he says and takes her wrist.

he leads her to a darkened hall near a coat room and, wasting no time, presses her against the wall. he latches his mouth to the exposed skin of her neck, sure that if he doesn’t kiss something—anything—he will go insane. his hands roam her curves, her back, her ass. likewise, she runs her hands along his back, his shoulders, his arms. she’s gasping, even though he is the one kissing and sucking her sweet skin.

“i thought—oh my god, don’t stop—i wasn’t sure if—if you would like seeing me here,” she confesses. her voice is thick, and it drives him wild.

he pulls away long enough to meet her eyes. “everyone is inside the party talking about you,” he says. he presses his palm against the side of her face, runs the pad of his thumb over her lip. “and i’m out here about to fuck you senseless. i’d say i liked seeing you up there.”

she laughs, and the sound is almost as nice as the sound of her singing. winding her arms around his neck, she draws him closer, pressing her hips against his. “why don’t you take me home, then?”

he doesn’t have to be told twice.

later, when she is asleep, naked beneath his sheets, he lights a cigarette. the embers glow in the darkness of his room, and he sighs. this time, he sighs in contentment. he reaches over to rub his hand along her back, feeling the ridges of her spine. she’s good for him, and so long as she’ll have him, he’ll be hers. even if this is all they are—a shag here, a present there—he’ll be happy. just so long as he can worship at her feet.

he’s got it bad. he knows that now. he’s on the verge of losing himself to her, and he doesn’t even mind. it just makes him smile into the night, happy for once not to go to bed alone.

#john deacon #john deacon x reader #sd!d night #liveblogs welcome on this one #cause i did myself in! #there's a watermark on the pic #but he's too cute so ignore it