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scifrey · 1 year

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Cling Fast: Chapter Nine

By Losyark The Sandman (Netflix with some sprinkling of comics canon, and Gaiman Cinematic-Literary Universe canon) Dreamling (Hob Gadling x Dream of the Endless | Morpheus) Unfinished (tentatively 10 chapters) PG-13 (for now) Unbeta’d

Hob throws the door of the flower shop open hard enough that it rattles in its frame.

“Sorry!” he shouts. “And sorry, I know you’re about to close, I was stuck at work for hours and I just–” He looks around the shop, realizing that he is utterly, utterly out of his depth. “I need help.”

From somewhere behind a jungle of ready-made bouquets, massive ferny house plants, shelves of cute succulents in pots, and buckets of individual cut flowers, an amused voice calls: “What'd you do?”

Hob puffs up like an affronted pigeon at the assumption that he’s only here because he’s done something wrong, until he remembers that, actually, he’s only here because he’s… well, he hasn’t done something wrong, it’s not his fault that he didn’t understand Morpheus’ overtures.

But he might have been a bit of a knobhead last night and that he does need to apologize for.

Hob knows the way he lashed out at Morpheus isn’t entirely fair. Even if, on some counts, it was probably true. He has no idea of Morpheus’ feelings have been growing as long as his own have. If his regard for Hob was planted at that first meeting, and if it’s been sprouting slowly, climbing towards the light and warmth of Hob’s own metaphorical fire, and has just now blossomed.

Maybe Morpheus didn’t understand yet why hearing of Eleanor upset him. Maybe just as much Hob hadn't understood yet why Morpheus walking away from him that night had hurt in return.

They… they have to talk. Everything that is British in Hob curdles at the idea of having to discuss his feelings, but he’s not a medieval peasant any more. He can be emotionally aware and available, when he tries.

But first, Hob needs to make sure that Morpheus understands that his message was received loud and clear. Received and reciprocated.

Hob winds his way through the overgrowth, and finds himself at a back counter. The emo hipster manning said counter–and the Asian guy is definitely a hipster, umber-coloured beanie firmly in place, dark fall of hair obscuring his face, and matching vest showing off two full sleeves and vibrantly coloured tattoos depicting everything from flowers to books, hourglasses to compasses–doesn’t even look up.

“I need a sort of like… bouquet.”

The hipster snorts, and keeps his eyes on the massive book in front of him, where he seems to be totting up a row of names. Every few lines, he strokes one out, seemingly at random. “You’ve found yourself where you need to be. What’s it for?”

“I yelled at… at a friend who was making, uh, overtures,” Hob confesses breathlessly, tugging at his ear and feeling a right tit. “But I didn’t know he was making the overtures, and I want to apologize for not knowing and make it clear that I feel the same way. He likes flowers. Well, he likes the symbolism of flowers, I mean.”

Hob fumbles his phone out of his back pocket, then opens the app he’d downloaded that afternoon. It’s a floriography catalog, which allows you to look up plants by their meaning, or snap a photo of a bloom and explore what that particular flower means.

When the hipster doesn’t stop what he’s doing to look at the phone, Hob barrels on: "I need something that says, I don't know, like, I'm sorry I'm so dense and I'm sorry it took so long, but now I realize that our love is fated and like, you're my… you're my…."

"Destiny?" the hipster intones, with a knowing smirk curling his lips, the only part of his face Hob can see.

"Yes! That!" Hob cries, slapping the counter excitedly, like the gif of the cat with the bongos. “And I was thinking, Shamrock, for light heartedness, and Arbor Vitae for undying friendship, and especially Sweet William for gallantry and lovelorn heroes, and masculine beauty because, whoo boy, yeah, and…” Hob stops shyly, realizing he’s rambling.

The hipster is smiling as he continues to tot up his rows of names, at least.

“And Ivy,” Hob finishes seriously. “The one above all else. Please. If we could do that.”

The hipster doesn’t move away from behind the counter. He does, however, stop tallying.

“Money is no object?” Hob adds, holding up his credit card.

Without looking up, the hipster plucks the card from his hand and says, “Come back in an hour.”

The bouquet that the hipster florist hands Hob an hour later is… well, it’s not beautiful.

It’s a sort of freakish amalgam of very meaningful flowers with very little thought put into their aesthetic arrangement. Tied with twine and wrapped in plain brown paper, there are actual sticks poking up out of the top in a spray that makes the whole bouquet not all too dissimilar to a hedgehog.

But the message, as far as Hob can tell through the app, is spot-on.

“The hell is that?” Patrick asks, as Hob cuts through the pub with his prize.

Hob ignores Patrick’s squawking and ducks into the kitchen and snag something for dinner, instead of having to make it himself. He’s too keyed up for that.

“That’s a no, by the way, if you’re thinking of changing the decor as well as the food in here, Bob,” Patrick pushes when Hob reemerges with a covered plate in his free hand. “That's hideous.”

“It’s not for the pub,” Hob chuckles. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist. Be a lamb and open my door for me?”

Patrick gives the bouquet a wide berth, and punches in Hob’s keycode and holds open the door to his private entrance. “How’s the shoot going?”

“Crazy,” Hob says. “I’m going to eat this and go right to bed. I feel like I’m far overdue for some time in slumberland.”

“Sweet dreams, then,” Patrick says.

Hob grins beatifically at him. “I’m planning on it.”

Hob devours his curry in about five minutes flat. He showers and changes into his fanciest silk PJs, gulps down two sleeping pills, and falls asleep clutching the monstrous floral creation to his chest like a funerary arrangement.

Soon after, he opens his eyes on the Darkling Beach. He's nestled into the Dream Sand with the Sea of Imagination kissing his bare feet. The bouquet is here, but instead of laying on his chest, it’s now all around him. A garden oasis has sprung up from the flowers. The twigs have become a privately enticing copse. The Ivy has curled and tangled in on itself to create an inviting little dome over the resulting bower. Hob stands and brushes the sand from his clothes, impressed with the Dreaming's inventiveness.

He looks around, but he is alone on the beach, as he expected he would be. He ducks under the vine arch, and dreams up a plush, luxurious sofa in ruby-red velvet, double wide and with angled arms perfect for leaning back against. Beside that, he wills into existence a small table with a sweet chilled Retsina wine, two thick-cut sapphire goblets, and a small pewter tray of gently steaming venison pasties.

Then he closes his eyes and, gently and deliberately, thinks as loudly as he can: I'm ready now.

The sound of the wind picking up and sand rustling across leaves reaches Hob's ears before he's even opened his eyes.

“You’re determined to fatten me up,” Morpheus says, appearing in a gentle swirl of sand and ink-in-water mist. He is standing just outside the archway on the beach, giving Hob the space he had demanded.

“They’re just really good,” Hob says, turning to offer up his friend a beaming grin. “You’d know if you tried them.”

Morpheus tilts his head like Matthew, and considers Hob from behind the invisible line in the sand that Hob has drawn.

"Please, come sit with me," Hob says, and perches on the sofa closest to the little table.

Morpheus tilts his head the other way, regarding his offerings.

Hob is no petitioner, no sycophant, no priest.

But he would lay a sacrifice for his god, if Morpheus would accept it. There is wine. There is food. And there is Hob himself, ready to lay bare on the altar of Morpheus' regard and do whatever it takes to regain the friendship he needs more than that wine, or food, or even air.

For a split-second Hob is afraid that Morpheus is going to spurn him. That the apology bouquet was a ruse. That Morpheus is actually furious at him for daring to shout at one such as he, and has lured Hob here to punish him. That Morpheus is about to tell him to go to hell and stomp off in another strop.

But then Morpheus glides into the bower, and sits beside Hob. He doesn't crowd him. He remains cautious arm length away, and Hob tries not to be disappointed.

Baby steps.

Hob has to remember that he hurt Morpheus' feelings, too.

Hob lets Morpheus settle and take in the greenery around him. He focuses instead of pouring the sweating wine, and picking a perfect-looking pie.

And then Morpheus gasps.

And there it is, Hob thinks smugly. He hands the pasty and goblet to Morpheus, who takes them unthinkingly, because he's too busy staring around the bower, eyes and mouth dropped open in wonder.

"Do you like it?" Hob asks, and they both know he's not talking about the delectibles. "I had it made for you."

"Hob," Morpheus' voice crackles, "It is… you have…"

"I even know what they all mean this time," Hob chuckles.

Morpheus turns to face Hob, clearly at a loss. He seems to remember all at once that he's holding something. His eyes drop slowly, reluctantly off of Hob's face, and to what he's holding. Hob reaches out to relieve him of his delicious burdens, but then all at once, and with no grace whatsoever, Morpheus jams the whole pasty into his mouth. He chews stubbornly, flakes of crust falling off his chin, gaze locked on Hob's like a challenge.

Hob bites his lips to keep from gawfawing at the spectacle of the chipmunk-cheeked being before him, trying so desperately to hold onto his dignity around his mouthful and utterly failing. That's fine, though. Hob doesn't need Morpheus' veneer of prideful dignity. He would much rather have the messy, uncertain, selfish, narcissistic, secretly self-loathing, solicitous man he's shared a year's worth of Tuesdays with.

"It is delicious—" Morpheus puffs, spraying crumbles, and then coughs.

Hob gently pushes his wine goblet up towards his mouth by the base, and Morpheus takes the hint and drinks to wash away the last of the pasty. Then he keeps going, and drains the goblet. If Hob didn't know any better, he'd say that Morpheus was nervous. Perhaps he actually is.

Morpheus wipes his face clean, and sets aside the goblet. Then he makes one of those frivolous human gestures that he bothers with so rarely, an aborted reach for Hob's shoulder that Hob wishes he'd let land. So he reaches out, and takes Morpheus’ hovering hand. He guides it to his shoulder, and settles it there.

"Hello," Hob says quietly.

"Hello Hob," Morpheus says. "I am glad you are here. And I am… very glad that you have chosen to accept my apology." Morpheus' hand slides upward, cupping the side of Hob's neck. He shudders at the firm, cool touch.

"I'm sorry I lost my shit at you," Hob replies, reaching up to cup Morpheus' the back hand with his own. "I was scared, and after some reflection, I realized that you would never have let anything happen to me. I would have preferred a little more communication, but I know you wouldn't have exposed me like that without first making sure it was safe. And… and I have to thank you for Harriet, too. She's… you were right, she's a good defender. And she's fast becoming a great friend. It wasn't fair of me to say those things I did. I don't really think you're that cruel."

Morpheus's eyes flutter shut. "I will be honest and tell you that some small part of my motivation for pushing you to do the show was as you say. Your heart was still full of your grief for them, and I foolishly, selfishly thought that as such, you would have no room for me."

"Ah, that's the thing with human hearts, my friend," Hob says, gently brushing his thumb over Morpheus' knuckles. "They can expand to hold as much love as they need."

Morpheus startles at the 'L' word, but he doesn't open his eyes.

"Once again, Hob Gadling, you teach me much about humanity."

"It's what I'm here for."

"Yes," Morpheus concedes. "But that is not all you are here for. And I am sorry that I have treated you as if it was your only worth to me, and in the world."

Hob chuckles, and scooches forward to rest his forehead against Morpheus'. He reaches out and cups his friend's marble-pale neck in turn, and Morpheus mirrors him by cradling his own hand as well. Morpheus' eyes remain closed, but Hob doesn't dare look away now. Starlight escapes from between his lowered lashes, and Hob wants to remember every microsecond of this moment.

"To be fair, every time we met I've been either a braggart insulting your sister, a literal flea-ridden lout, a crass boor, a starving, mannerless beast, a literal slaver, and a—"

"A man who has genuinely striven to better himself each and every meeting, to make of himself a kinder, gentler, more generous soul. And when you turned that kind generosity at me, I spurned you."

Hob laughed, and finally let his eyes slip closed, if only so he could focus on the sensation of his palms sliding up Morpheus' neck to cup his smooth jaw. "I can't blame you if you barely tolerated me for the sake of a bet, before. But then you put mistletoe in my bouquet. "

"I did."

Hob's fingers curl of their own volition, digging into Morpheus flesh, but he only tilts into the pressure, begging for more. "I didn't even know, I didn't know that this was something you could feel. That this is something you might want." Hob hitches one leg up onto the sofa, folding it under him so he can press closer.

Morpheus swallows hard. "It is."

"Then why did you push me away? Before? I tried to kiss you, at the dream of the feast."

"You were delirious. You could not consent."

"How chivalrous."

Morpheus is panting now, his hands over Hob's shoulders, hands drawing down his arms and back against, squeezing. His chest is thrust forward, hips restless on the sofa, trying so hard to be still, to wait.

“And for that misapprehension, I truly am sorry. I thought you knew how I… I thought I was welcome,” Morpheus chokes out. “In your bed, I mean.”

Hob presses his forehead against Morpheus' shoulder, breath heaving, drawing in the scent of ozone and flowers. He's losing the thread of the conversation, but he doesn't want to stop it. Not yet. Not while he still has his courage screwed to the sticking place.

"That made you think that?”

“I laid out my feelings for you, and you did not object.”

“A lack of a no is not the same as a yes,” Hob says in gentle rebuke, and he wants to bite, he wants to lick and nip, so he bites the inside of his own cheek instead.

"Lucienne has well scolded me for my presumptions," Morpheus admits contritely. His fingertips dig into the muscles at the base of Hob's spine, and Hob can't help but throw his head back, arch his spine, and whine at the way it tugs him closer. "And Matthew has taught me the phrase: 'You know what assuming does'."

"It makes an ass out of you and me," Hob finishes, panting up at the sky. "Yeah. That's fitting."

"Hob—"

"Okay, that's enough talking about our feelings. I think we're good now," Hob says, and surges down to mash his lips ineligantly against Morpheus'.

Morpheus inhales sharply through his nose. He drags Hob toward him so roughly that Hob ends up half-tumbled in his lap, his own fingers digging into Morpheus's cheeks to hold him still. Hob tilts his head, opens his mouth, and groans when Morpehus opens up under him immediately. Hob pushes his tongue against Morpheus' teeth.

It's a fucking terrible first kiss, but who cares? It's followed immediately by a second one that's much, much better, and then a third that's frankly incredible. Morpheus' mouth tastes of buttery pastry and port sauce, and he keeps making noises like a rumbling panther.

"Fuck, that's sexy," Hob wheezes, sucking on the salt air of the beach.

Morpheus pulls back to drink in the sight of Hob, flushed and half-wrecked already. Morpheus is losing coherence again, his irises glowing an eerie bioluminescent blue against the deep-space of his sclera.The inside of his mouth is the black of deepest space, shading outward on his kiss-bruised lips. Pink flags across his nose and cheeks, leaks like sakura petals into the under-water slow wave of his hair, which has grown to rise and feather around his head in a dark, eldritch halo.

"I want to consume you," Morpheus warns Hob. Black mist creeps up around them, wrapping them in a floral-smelling cocoon. What little of the sky Hob can see has overcast, diamond-bright bolts of lighting chasing one another playfully between the silver clouds. "If you let me, I will not stop. I am selfish, Hob Gadling. I am stubborn. I am demanding."

To prove his point, he lifts hob by the waist as if he weighs nothing, and presses him firmly in his lap. In this moment, Morpheus has a (more or less) male form, and under Hob's arse, the proof of this is hot, and hard, and definitely noticeable.

"I think I'm just as stubborn," Hob counters, running his hand through Morpheus' amazing hair, watching it bob back upright with each stroke. "And I think it's about time you had someone in your life you can't boss around."

"I am a king. I am bound always to my duty. I am Dream, and Dreams are me, and I cannot neglect, or abandon, or harm my dreamers."

"I would never ask you to, and a pox on anyone who would," Hob gasps, as Morpheus' hands—are they hands? They may be something else, some other limbs, or maybe it's many hands—roam his back, his thighs, his calves, massage his arse and squeeze his biceps. It's like Morpheus, now that he's been given permission to touch, has a desperate need to touch him everywhere, all at once. "Besides, I'm gonna have to throw you over for marking and lesson planning sometimes."

"I am not human."

"Yeah, I'm getting that," Hob chuckles breathlessly. "And darling, please let me assure you, I am very, very into it." He lifts one of the hands—yes, this one is a hand—and presses it against his throat, encouraging Morpheus to unbutton him.

Instead, the beautiful nightmare beneath him wraps his long fingers around Hob's throat and squeezes, just a little, just enough for it to be exciting. When you've lived forever, sometimes you need to skirt closer to extremes to really feel anything. And this, this is the most extreme and wonderful thing Hob's ever experienced in his life. Just as Hob considers gasping for air, Morpheus lets him go and starts plucking at the front of his shirt.

The pajamas are wrenched downward. Hob wriggles to help Morpheus get it off his arms, but then the shirt is being twisted. Morpheus knots it up at the small of Hob's bare back, trapping his wrists and hands, pulling his arms tight, forcing him to thrust his chest out, keeping him immobile.

Hob's own cock, which has been very, very interested in the proceedings so far, throbs. "Unf, Morpheus, love, yes but… please, touch me."

"Oh, with great pleasure, mine own," Morpheus says with dark sensuality, and in an instant, every stitch of clothing between them succumbs to dream-logic's evanescence.

One of the smoky limbs wraps around Hob's wrists to replace the disintegrated shirt, keeping him bound, as two more wrap around his thighs and lift him just enough for a human-shaped hand to slip around his hip and between his cheeks. Something cool and slick on Morpheus fingers makes Hob whine and writhe, and try to press back onto the digits.

"May I, inamoroto? Will you let me in?"

Morpheus scrapes his teeth, sharper now, almost prickling, along Hob's throat. He mouths at his clavicle, bites his shoulder hard enough to draw both blood and a moan from Hob.

"You're already in me, so much, so much more than you know," Hob chokes out, gasping and swallowing, hardly able to keep the plot. "Every choice I've made, every journey I've taken, they've all been with you in mind. I haven't done anything in six hundred years without wondering if you'd approve, or if it could make you smile. I—"

"Hob," Morpheus huffs a laugh against Hob's shoulder. "I'm asking very specifically in this particular situation if I can fuck you."

"Oh, well, yes. We can do that, too."

Hob looks down at Morpheus. Morpheus looks up at Hob.

Hob infuses as much tender affection and admiration into his gaze as he can. In turn he is rewarded with awe and love so deep and honest that Hob wonders how he could ever have thought that the Endless couldn't feel the way Morpheus clearly does.

And then the first finger is breaching Hob's body. It feels so good that he groans and flops backward in Morpheus' many-limbed hold, trusting his lover to support him and position him to his satisfaction.

Morpheus takes advantage of his bared and vulnerable belly to lip and suck at Hob's nipples. This soon has him squirming and grinding down on Morpheus' thighs, desperate for something, for anything—

"If you let me have this, I will want it always," Morpheus warns, even as his hand draws away and Hob's legs are splayed open for the nightmare King's pleasure.

"You can have it."

"I will keep you forever." He pulls Hob down, slowly, slowly, not giving him time to adjust to the stretch and weight of him. Doesn't matter. This is a dream. It just feels good, and good, and good, and goes on, and on, deeper and deeper.

"You can have me!" Hob whines, circling his hips, desperate for what little motion Morpheus' terrible grip allows. "Only please—I'm so close already—please—" he sobs.

"I am as hungry as a black hole and I will not stop until everything you are is subsumed by me, submissive to me, is mine to cherish and to protect and to please."

"Dearheart," Hob stutters as his peak crashes closer. "Don't—ah—don't you think I already know that? Though we're gonna talk about—christ, there!--we're gonna talk about what you mean by… by submissive because you know I like it both ways and I think—"

Hob doesn't get to tell Morpheus what he's thinking, because Morpheus suddenly draws him into a crushing hug, burying his face between Hob's nipples, and goes rigid. The sky splits open. Fireworks streak and scream through the darkness, popping the sweet clear pink of a greek wine, the deep red of a full-blown rose, and the deep sleepy amber of a cold beer in a sunny pub garden. The clouds burst into a shower of silver dust and rain down on the landscapes and denizens of the Dreaming. The sky clears and the stars burn bright and true.

Morpheus stills entirely, immovable as the marble statue he resembles. Which is not fair, it's not kind, because Hob is so close, so close—

"You bastard," he hisses. "You fucking tease, don't stop, don't…"

"Take your pleasure of me, then, Hob Gadling," Morpheus commands with a smirk, still shuddering down from his own release. He lays back against the arm of the sofa, and stretches like a cat, arms above his head, expression challenging, cock still hard and hot, and smokey limbs still trapping Hob where he is. "Or do you regret it already? Pledging yourself to me thus for the rest of your immortal life?"

"No!" Hob shouts, feeling his muscles seize, his balls draw tight, the lightning arc down his spine. "No, of course not, I… I have… oh, my going I'm going to… I have so much to live for!"

In the afterglow—and it's literally a glow, because Morpheus so pleased with himself that he is radiating silvery light like a fallen star—Hob runs his fingers through Morpheus's bird's nest hair, as Morpheus has his head pillowed on Hob's furry chest.

Above them, the sparkle from the fireworks have joined together in a dance, ribboning across the sky in lazy, satisfied arcs, forming an indolent aurora borealis.

"Wait, wait, you had to hold negotiation talks with your siblings over me?" Hob says, trying to get his sex-stupid brain to follow the thread of Morpheus' confession. He's wrung out. Even in his dreams, half a dozen orgasms is a lot for a man of his age. "Is that where you were the week you were away? When I saw the stained glass?"

"Those were the sigils of my siblings, yes," Morpheus allows. He sits up to sip from the goblet of wine, and then presses the rim of the glass to Hob's lower lip so he can drink, too. "I expressed my intention to court you, and my youngest siblings contested my right to claim you as a vassal of my realm."

"You told them before you even asked me?" Hob asks, miffed by the high-handedness of it. He'd be more miffed, of course, if all of Morpheus' grandeur and affrontery weren't just for show. Hob has learned in the last few hours that his beloved enjoyed being held down and swived just as much as he enjoyed doing the swiving.

"Be assured, I value your opinion, and your independence, erastis," Morpheus says, leaning across his chest to set the goblet down on the little table. Hob takes the opportunity to pet down Morpheus' flank, to give the beautiful pale globe of muscle a loving squeeze. "Yet you have spent as much time in Despair's domain as mine, for your grief is deep and darkly encompassing. So too Desire's, for you lust for life and the hedonistic pleasures it provides is glorious and brightly burning. And then as well Delirium, for she is still Delight in all the ways that matter, and your giddy, unrepentant joy in all the experiences that life has to offer you, sober or not, falls within her purview."

"What about the other one?" Hob asks gently, cuddling Morpheus close and pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. "I think I've spent a lot of my time with Destruction, too."

"The Prodigal did not attend the summons," Morpheus answers sadly, after a long silence. "Though I think he too would have claimed you as vassal, for you create as much as you destroy, and no creation can come without first sweeping away what was before it. Destruction is not always a bad thing."

Hob thinks of their meeting in 1789 and agrees.

"Only Death and Destiny did not wish to contest my claim. And so in the end it was decided you would be vassal to all, for of all of humanity, you are the most human. You have resided in each of our realms, and been both our antipode and antithesis."

"And what does that entail? Am I going to have to serve them? Am I going to have to serve you?"

"You need not be my vassal to be my beloved," Morpheus says, as if it's obvious. "And my sister Death has impressed upon me that I, erm, I need not be so possessive of you, agapitos. You may live your life as you always have. The difference is that my siblings may choose to appear to you. They may call on you, or ask boons of you, and provide boons of their own as well."

"Translation: be prepared to have the in-laws drop by unannounced."

Morpheus chuckles, and Hob preens to have made him laugh. "They… would like to be seen by you. As you see me."

"What does this mean for, uh, this though?" Hob waggles a finger between them, illustrating the connection they have. "What are we now?"

Morpheus looks up at him, mercury on his lower lash line, but a smile on his lips. "I am yours. And you are mine."

"Sounds good to me," Hob says, settling back into the sofa more comfortably and pulling Morpheus half on top of him. It has been difficult, and anxiety-inducing, and terrifying, and wretched, and amazing, and awe-inspiring, but Hob has been hollowed out these last few weeks. And now he is ready to fill his heart again. "I'm your nebbish professor-slash-television presenter and you're my King of Dreams and Nightmares."

"Mmm," Morpheus agrees.

"Wait," Hob says, snapping upright, tumbling Morpheus onto the carpet of shamrock and clover under the sofa. "Does that make me a consort? You made me a, ivy crown, does that mean I'm a—"

He jolts awake before he can finish his sentence. Hob falls back into his pillows, covers his face with his hands, and laughs, and laughs, and laughs.

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badjoy-17 · 9 months

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The Playfellow Crew

Chapter 1, Part 2

She usually came across the Actor's lobby where Vicky told her where Wally's Puppeteer reside quite often since she always hear him practicing his dialogue or doing something in character, like what they say, method acting. Of all the rooms in the studio, she never dare to check that room so she did check this time.

The door creaked as she entered and surprisingly noone was there except her. She was sure she heard that puppeteer's voice inside. She heard small footsteps roaming around the room and she followed without a haste. She stared every puppets to know their places...

All was there except Wally. How odd. The voice was there, nor the puppteer neither the puppet wasn't there. Perhaps the puppeteer brought the puppet out but no, she was sure there's only one door. It was the only she entered. She was sure there someone's hiding in the shadow, she can feel it.

Something fell and rolled on the floor. An apple. She slowly approached the apple and a yellow felted hands reached for the apple before the she could hit it with a stick.

"What was that?" She thought to herself.

"Haven't anyone told you can't be entering this room?" The voice said.

She knew that voice, the puppeteer! "Hey, I... Uhm... Looking for my apple. I looked everywhere but I can't find it anywhere." She grunted hopelessly. "But just now, here I saw a yellow hand grab it."

"You mean Asian?" (Bruh😑)

"No, I'm Asian." She squint her eyes in frustration and annoyance. "I mean there's a yellow pelted hand reached for it. I-I think... He stole it!"

"I don't steal anything! I found it" hiding under the curtain walks out a 3-feet-tall puppet walking, without attached strings or sticks.

Ritzy laughed loudly she couldn't believe her eyes, a puppet unattached to any controls. It must be what they called animatronic something that moves on its own with the aid of wireless remote control. She thought to herself "...it must be high-tech puppet!" She held it the way she saw it the first time, like a baby in her arm but she was scared to discover that it wasn't what she thought.

She can't feel the wires under the felt and stuffings. It was just the puppet.

"... You know it's rude to touch someone without their consent, neighbor?" Out of shock, she flung the poor puppet landing on his face. And to make the matter worst, she then poked it like a roadkill. Which Wally then grabs on to get up.

Frozen in her spot, the only thing she can do was to pull out the rosary and started chanting oration as she closes her eyes in fear.

She felt something's hold her hands but as she open her eyes Wally looks at her so confused. "What are you doing, neighbor? You're scaring me..."

Terrified, she screams at the top of her lungs, "Demonyo ka!!! Lumayo sa bagay na iyan!!! Lumayas ka!!!" (You foul demon!!! Let go of that thing!!! Vanish!!!)

"Please, don't yell at me, neighbor." He looks so worried so he stuffed his hands to muffle her noise and said, "Do you mind refraining from screaming so loud? I'm going to take my hand out of your mouth, please don't scream. You can say what you want just don't scream." Then slowly he pulls out one hand after another to her mouth.

"Ano ka?" She whispered forgots that she spoken tagalog for moment before realizing her hand with a rosary still reaching out didn't affect the puppet. "What are you?"

Her stare just piercing Wally with curiousity and wonder.

"You see I'm a puppet just like any other, neighbor... Ritzy, right?"

"What? You know my name?"

"Of course, of all... You hugged me! The moment you see me across the studio you were drawn to me...Why?"

"Why would I tell you?" She hugged herself, feeling violated at the moment.

"You're right, none of my business. Forgive me, neighbor."

"The apple. Every. single. time. It always disappears. And it was You! All along!" She pointed her fingers with her eyes glaring down at him.

"Correction, I found it." He confidently stood.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. You still have it." She mean that she caught him red-handed (or yellow-handed. *Comic drums). She lowers her finger pointing at him but still not letting go of her sight then she does a decent asian squat.

"But I really do." Wally defends.

"Explain." She crossed her arms, giving him time to explain.

He started to sway his arms and then he talked. "For some reason, whenever i go for a walk around the studio, an apple is randomly placed hidden or concealed over a props."

She took a deep breath then squints her eyes in spite of him, "They were there for a reason." She wants to hit him but she's trying to get a hold of herself.

"Oh, I didn't realize that. I apologize, I might be stealing from you all along. I hope you forgive me."

"Whatever." She slumped on the floor, sitting comfortably. "But how come you exist while they don't?" She can't help but to ask.

"I don't know but they are still my friends...Do you wanna to be friends with me?" He offers the apple.

She leans away and look at him hesitantly, "You promise you won't do anything stupid... that may harm me or anyone here?"

"Of course, no problem! I'll try best not to... Anyway, I propose to share apple this with me." And he reach her the apple.

"Like, just now or... for everytime I bring apple..." She took the apple and broke in half.

"Well, that gave me an idea. Why don't we make a deal... You share me apple and I can do any favors for you. Any favors, I'll try to grant it. How does it sound?"

"Anything?"

"Of course, anything, as long as you're near me... They are just small favors but will surely helps you."

"Small favors", she thought to herself isn't enough for everyone but enough for her to survive. It may not help everyone but may help her maintain in this job. She was desperate to maintain her job, for Bernice, she thought to herself. She have to endure anything for her daughter.

The felted grin plastered into the puppet's blank staring eyes.

"Please don't stare at me like that", She covers his eyes just piercing to her soul.

"Like what? I'm talking to you."

"I don't know what you're talking about." She realized what he meant, "Oh, you're right... I'm sorry." She lets go to his eyes kept her hands to herself.

Are you taking my offer? He offers to shake his hands.

"Yes", she reached her hand towards the puppet's hand. She was expect a supernatural to happen but nothing it was just a simple handshake. "Oh, so that's it? I thought it would be..."

A strong blow hit behind her head and lose her conciousness.

#welcome home puppet show #welcome home #real world au #Playfellow Co. au

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jerichomere · 7 months

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YOU SAW ELEMENTAL!!?? it was such a good movie :) what else did you think of it?

You activated my monologuing trap card!

I went in with super low expectations because the trailers spun things so bad, but once I saw everything in context I enjoyed it!

I genuinely did love watching her casually eat glass. In fact I think my favorite thing about the movie was how creative it was playing with their physical forms. Like when his forearm magnified the name tag, or the way she could just melt stuff.

I loved the wateryness of wade, the way he moved but also they way light would shine through him. It was really well done.

I liked all the thought that went into designing a culture too. I mean it’s definitely Asian-coded but it’s not just “Asian but with fire.” All the fabricated details, like the bits of fire language they used, or how they cooked, or the fact they have to wear chain mail all the time, or their regalia during the big party, it all helped to sell the characters and the world.

The immigration and race relation allegories were pretty straight forward. I was actually shocked a few times with some of the offhand comments they managed to slip in there. Not in a pearl clutching way, but in a way that acknowledges that there is no one perfect innocent group, everyone carries around true, and less true, suppositions about the others. And that a ton of history is just really really racist. But they’re all still people. (I could soapbox about this but I’ll stop here)

While the big-city-but-with-xxx setting gave a lot of zootopia vibes, I think this movie manages to carve out its own place. I also liked the way it was designed to intentionally say, “this space was not made with fire folk in mind.” Because the others, comfortable in it, wouldn’t notice. But the fire people sure do.

When they went to the tree I really thought it was gonna come back around like oh they were banned from getting close to it but it only blooms when it has all four elements together (or something like that). The flowers did open when she shined on them. But then that didn’t happen. Perhaps it would have been too obvious.

So all in all, was it a little bit tacky? Yeah. Was it beautiful to look at and fun to watch? Yeah! It still hasn’t unseated my eternal faves (Incredibles and Up), nor my reigning Pixar champ of the 2010s (which is coco), but I enjoyed it more than like… all the pix movies that have come out since between coco and now.

Thanks for asking!

#jext #elemental movie #Pixar #elemental

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superman--yoosung · 8 months

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hi! i'm aurora, i prefer males in a genshin matchup, i'm straight, and i go by she/her

i would like to be matched with adult characters from genshin impact

i like music (i play like piano, cello, ukulele, etc but i also love listening to music), i love making friends, and i like doing anything fun (involves going to like amusement parks or arcades). i love !!!! sleeping, lots of people tend to think im super hyper all the time but tbh all i want to do is sleep !! i like drawing, dissecting animals, i like observing ppl and essentially psychoanalyzing them, i like debating controversial topics for the giggles (playing the devil's advocate my beloved), i like sending people cursed images, and i like flirting w/ people (platonically most of the time). i love cheese ! ! and i like noodles a lot <3<3 my fav drink ever is either iced coffee or like cranberry juice bc both of them are actually amazing

i hate worms. like i actually despise them. i don't like eating most vegetables (spinach is good), i dislike math because its boring, i dont like people who are close-minded and dont consider all the perspectives of a situation, i dont like bananas, i dont like watermelons, i dont like 3-spiked forks, and that's abt it ! !

i'm kinda friendly to most ppl and i love meeting new people because it gives me opportunity to analyze someone new !! i come off as a lot more carefree and spontaneous, but underneath i observe ppl a lot and im like that one friend who knows more and is more mature than u'd think (lmao im also the advice friend while being the chaotic one). i was raised up religiously, but rn i'm agnostic! i somewhat believe in justice, however i believe justice isn't always the way to go because of how everyone has such different and conflicting views of moral and ethical laws! i believe in the pursuit to know more, and to always consider every kind of perspective.

lots of people and i think that id have a hydro vision? bc i have a messed up sense of justice but its still justice and i'm quite confident

i have like bad commitment issues ? i think that counts as a personal flaw, but yeah

i'm southeast asian & i have like black wavy hair that's like a lil bit longer than jaw-length ! lots of ppl have told me that i have an rbf and i look scary when they first meet me so yk !! if ur my friend or like kind of know me, i will always send you a cursed image and/or a pickup line because i have an entire long list of pickup lines saved in my notes app. i want to be a biomed engineer some day, biology is cool and engineering is too <3<3 tysm for this! love you

Hi aurora, hope you're having a good weekend!

Your matchup is..........

ALBEDO !!

The people of Mondstadt were well-acquainted with a somewhat odd sight in the City of Freedom's town square from time to time: that of the Chief Alchemist of the Knights of Favonius, standing near the Alchemy station, having a highly controversial debate with his lover.

Some would wonder why he entertained her points as anything more than a means to stir up trouble; but to those who cared to observe more keenly, it became abundantly clear that while Albedo was not the type to dismiss a hypothesis immediately, no matter the reasoning behind it, he simply favored opinions voiced by her.

The Spark Knight put it best: "If you like someone, you should always listen to what they have to say!"

Fun details:

Albedo is always busy with work, but even so, he makes time to see you. (Unless he's up on Dragonspine... That distance can't be helped.) It is clear in the way he has your interests in mind, be it by inquiring about your studies, your music-making, or in the simple act of bringing a cup of iced coffee from your favorite local cafe.

Many an afternoon is spent sitting outside the local Mondstadt restaurants people-watching. Albedo listens intently as you voice your psycho-analyses aloud, and will accompany your thoughts with sketches if the individuals in question, or the scenery that day so you both might recall the discussion. He will voice his own observations, too; it will be fascinating to hear what conclusions you two reach! (And a little scary, for you're often too accurate.)

Albedo is not a highly musical person, but it is fascinating to him to discern pure talent from diligent practice. He'll undoubtedly find both in your musical pursuits, but will wonder which you think matters more in the long run. If this leads to a debate, even better - he loves stimulating discussion, especially with someone intelligent enough to keep up with him.

Unlike most people, you both let logic lead true fights, which is why they become quite nasty as you pick each other apart, flaw by flaw. Eventually, one of you will step away to cool off, and when you next discuss it, you'll have to let emotions dictate where to go from there. Seeing the situation through the other's eyes, it becomes easier to find a suitable solution. Luckily, these fights rarely occur due to your practical natures, and have only strengthened your relationship.

The cursed images you choose to show to Albedo will need to be explained. (Like Cyno's jokes, only with detailed visual descriptions, too.) Once he understands the context, he'll find them extremely humorous, Whether you still do or not... Well, at least his reactions are equally amusing to you!

Your Hydro will Crystallize with his Geo, so you will always have shields to buffer you during battles. His elegant style complements your sharp-moving one well - your movements together are very fluid.

Albedo was initially attracted to you for your intellectual mind, and found in you a kindred soul who viewed the world of Teyvat in much the same way he did. If someone asked him now, though, he's have a harder time picking one thing that stands out the most. He loves your smile when you drop a cheesy pick-up line; he loves the look on your face when your fingers glide across the piano; he loves the way your eyes droop when you're feeling sleepy. In a way, all of those are testaments to how your mind works. Even so, Albedo would prefer to say thst his favorite thing about you is your least-favorite thing about yourself, for even that which you consider the lowest quality is worth only the highest of praise and devotion to him.

~~I hope you enjoyed your matchup! I considered Scara for you also, but went with Albie. I had the worst time trying to get Tumblr to post this ask, it refused to do so!! Ugh. I apologize that it's shorter than others I do, I really don't know what it was Tumblr didn't like about this post... ;-;

#genshin impact #genshin impact matchups #genshin matchups #matchups #Albedo #Albedo x reader

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hedoughnism · 25 days

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@max1461

So I’m also a secular atheist, but unlike you, I find myself drawn to that sort of neopagan gaia-worship , polytheist pansychist twisted east-Asian mishmash , shamanism, get high and try to talk to dolphins shit, And I’m … not really trying to persuade as much as get to an understanding,

Ok so getting the queer stuff out of the way first, I’m a gay guy, and Abrahamic religion sucks for that, like not just regular level “ of-course these lessons from this ancient society condone genocide and patriarchy and shit” I mean in the sense that homophobia* was just not a thing before , that thousands of years of “civilization” existed before some cranks in the levant Invented it , and the fact we just act like this make sense, some people really seem to treat homophobia as some primordial bad condition like tribalism and sexism as a natural default state of civilizations, feels bad, some people hyper-fixate on demons or stain-glass windows of Jesus or whatever and get their queer hands all over it , I look back on history and go. “ we’ve existed long before and will exist long after you” and like to think of this Abraham shit as a passing fad.

* This is long enough already, but your arguments otherwise are stupid and bad, your generally holding queer relationships to an impossible standard you can’t hold the straight relationships of the time to, and the nuances were highly varied in the greco-roman world let alone further afield. I would explain more but this is a tangent.

I’m also sort of Buddhist brained, “stoicism” is sometimes treated as the western equivalent of secular-Buddhism, but it didn’t catch on, or was warped into “ Tough Men don’t have feelings” nonsense, so yeah, Budhist philosophy speaks to me as someone low on drive and who cares about suffering and doesn’t really like existence.

Now polytheist stuff

I don’t believe in gods, but gods make more sense than A God. Because things that they’re are only one in the vague category of are rare, and because a bunch of lower power level spirits causing shit better explaisn stuff like “ the problem of evil” or “ conflict existing”

But There is more to it than that

Cause, when Y*hw*h became the only god, he didn’t really go from “ storm god” to “ god of everything” , he became the god of nothing

Gods are the personifications of complex phenomena , especially natural ones, Y*hw*h became the one God, but he did not become Mother Gaia, or the panpsychist universe as god, he became an empty god of nothing, a god with no sacred groves or springs or caves, not a god of the earth that we grow our food in and must tend, the world become mankind’s plaything he gave us,nothing sacred or special, just a toy to have fun breaking , his worship only in buildings with closed walls, not the open builds of Roman temples, monuments to mankind

And I’m a nature loving hippy, Ive tried to rationalize it https://placeholderatthemoment.substack.com/p/conservation-as-compassion-a-101 but it’s also an aesthetic preference, it is something that speaks deeply, ( largely cause its been the only alternative given to Conquer Everything and Everyone to Subjugate as part of Mans Domain since forever) , and I’m not a fan of noble-savagery, that sort of thing is very exaggerated, but I think there’s a tiny grain of truth that Abrahamism encourages a destructive approach to nature , and this callus attitudes against nature and wildlife seem to have peaked with the victorians, who defended over exploitation by saying god can always make more,

The last thing is… I low key think polytheism is reasonably likely , Here Me Out

So “ Who is sentient” is litteraly the Hard problem, very hard to tell, generally I include animals with centralized nervous systems ( bilaterians and clown jellies and box jellies) and exclude the rest, but there is some murkiness, I think there’s a reasonable possibility coral or even non animal stuff lime slime-molds are sentient , and also mycorrhizal networks

Now that’s not me saying “ the plant” or “ the fungus” is sentient, I thing thats negligible, but the entire system, all the fungi and roots together, of large numbers of organisms of many species, passing electrical and chemical signals between each other, I give it like a 10-20% chance

Now its wouldn’t be the tree that’s sentient, or the fungi sentient. This isn’t your bog-standard sentient organism, this is something that is sentient, but isn’t an organism , this is quite literally/ the spirit of the forest/ AKA a forest god, this is just the most obvious example of a type of god that might exist, their is a good chance there are more

Yeah so that’s my mishmash of why that sort of shit appeals / speak-to me, even if most of is is anti scientific non sense I don’t believe :)

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comerosas · 2 months

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Sorry if this is outta nowhere, but in a desperate attempt to find people on here to relate to, I found a post of yours on an old, I assume abandoned, blog, about being a mexican trans guy/transmasc, and man. I felt that deeply. I'm also a mexican trans guy :) and I've been dying to find other mexican trans guys to like share these feelings like how you were talking in that post: losing your very large family bc you're trans, fearing they'd be straight up transphobic or just weird. I'm also not close with my extended family, and seldom visit mexico, but it's still a fear of mine, yknow? Being cut off because I wanna just be me. I'm not out yet to anyone, but these are the thoughts I have as part of why I'm so hesitant to transition and tell my family. But anyways yeah, I'm glad I found your post. I feel better knowing I'm not alone in those feelings. I wish you well, buddy :)

hey this ask was to be honest kind of weird to get (not in a bad way at all) because im not very active on tumblr and i purposefully avoid bringing attention to myself... but this ask also kind of means a lot to me.

i'd have to go back and find the post youre referencing cuz i dont remember how long ago i made it (was it on an older blog that links to this newer one?) but i completely understand (and have gone through) your desperation to find people like you. forgive me if this gets too rambley. i have a lot of thoughts on this.

even though trans people are everywhere online bc of the safety of being open online, it still feels extremely hard to find anything about a specific culture or not about white trans people. i kind of went crazy over it earlier in my transition. there is no advice or specific writings about how to come out to specifically latin american (MORE specifically mexican catholic) families and get them to understand you.

what happened to me was really weird and i'm not sure how common it is... i came out to my mom who is tolerant but early on said she doesnt approve. she said she would talk to my dad about it but he has never talked to me about being trans, and my parents never bring it up ever. its like a huge elephant in the room. it makes my plans of getting top surgery asap quite complicated (i came out at 23 yrs old and my mom said im too young for surgery)

online stuff related to nonwhite ftms is already quite rare, and even moreso when you look up stuff for specific groups like black, latine, asian, etc trans guys. theres a subreddit for trans men of color that i always forget the exact name of (its r/tmpoc had to look it up lol) and it is a nice read but its not as active as i wish. these frustrations of mine are compounded by the fact that although i am fluent in spanish, i'm much slower at reading it than with english so i have no ties to any online spanish speaking communities, nor do i know how to seek those communities out.

theres so much more i wish i had transition-related advice for, even for sillier smaller worries that I have. i think this is a weird time to be trans, theres a lot more visibility than people like us had in decades past, but theres still a lot of unknown territory and a lot of fear nowadays. because its hard to find stuff for your particular experience, sometimes you feel you could/should take up some kind of mantle as a spokesperson to help others like you... theres a lot of misinfo ive seen online about transition but i'm way too reclusive and private to put myself out there.

idk if youll end up reading this anon (does tumblr even notify you of anon asks being answered lol?) but either way i hope you end up finding more people like you, and i hope you can find even a little bit of community. and of course thank you for the kind words :)

#if i was on desktop i probably couldve drafted something better and more cohesive but eh #txt #asks #anonymous

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bookthroneking · 4 months

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Book Review: Dracula by Bram Stoker

I have such a lovehate relationship with this book.

When it comes to Gothic novels and classic horror literature, Dracula shines as one of the most enduring classics; there's just no way of getting around this book if you want to explore either of these genres. It's a timeless tale of good people fighting evil, with nightmarish thrills and chills, deeply emotional moments, beautiful character dynamics... and a big ugly heaping of xenophobia that made me want to bite through the book's spine several times.

Yeah, there it is. I've been questioned by some people (by Westerners, lol... lmao, even) for my critique of the book's portrayal of Eastern Europe, but I think that Bram Stoker's cultural attitudes are absolutely horrendous to the modern eye. I found the pure British condescension of "look at the quaint little rural people and their backwards ways" of the first few pages almost unbearable. And the fact that the narrative actually portrays the superstitions and folk traditions (which were a part of life at the time, but in a much more complex way than Stoker seems to have understood it) as all true and paints Transylvania as an uncharted wilderness of the supernatural just... left a really bitter taste in my mouth. Factual inaccuracies I could forgive because it's not like Wikipedia existed at the time, but the tone of the work left me grinding my teeth pretty damn often. It's not as bad as the way Native American or East Asian cultures were represented in the literature of the era, but that doesn't mean I have to like or even tolerate it. Especially because the "scary mystical foreigner preys on innocent Englishwomen" narrative arc is just hair-raisingly prejudiced.

That being said! I did have a really good time reading Dracula when the subtext was easier to ignore. There are some impressively ghastly scenes in this book, written with perfect descriptive prose and great skill at building tension, and the cast of characters are very easy to love. The story has many incredibly poignant moments where I really felt for all these people as they struggled against an ancient evil. Jonathan's private thought that he'd be willing to become a vampire for his wife's sake made me put down the book and just... take a minute to absorb how heartbreakingly romantic that passage was. Dracula himself, no matter how much of a stock character he became in pop culture, was a fun enough villain here: he's less of an active on-page threat and more of a looming, shadowy entity of malice, but the way Stoker used the characters' perspectives to hint at his evil and the extent of his powers was masterful. The ship's log remains, to this day, one of my favorite pieces of horror writing. Some people criticized the ending as weak or anticlimactic after such a buildup and I see their point, but to me, it made perfect sense and felt earned.

I don't even know how to close this review. This book was an absolute experience, and I found myself adoring certain scenes and frothing at the mouth through others. It's very much a relic of its time, and I really wish it hadn't overshadowed earlier and better vampire literature like Carmilla or The Mysterious Stranger... but for what it's worth, it was a hell of a read.

StoryGraph rating: 4

#dracula #book review #bookblr #classic literature #gothic literature #2023 reads #bookworm #my posts

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boyakishantrinity · 7 months

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"I mean I just don't really know if we should."

"What do you mean if you should Mr Sullivan?"

The Italian froze, looking to the man as he tied his hair behind his head.

"I- err."

"You're here for your daughter. Yes?"

Emily pushed the man aside, chuckling as she tackled his body.

"PADRE. È bello vederti. perché sei qui?!"

"Ah, Emily. IO e il gentiluomo... abbiamo degli affari da sbrigare"

"Piccola ragazza."

"... Vedo. Bye Mr C!"

"Buona giornata!"

"È sera!!"

"Non mi interessa! ... Mr Sullivan?"

The moment the girl closed the door, she'd dropped the accent. He shifted his coat, his friend's car driving her away.

"Mi dispiace molto"

"我以为我们在这些事情上都说中文。"

"... Can we..."

"Very well."

He closed the door, the man's head hung as he took his coat.

"I assume donkey riding?"

"Sì"

"anything I did sauce dropper?"

"... I- Comedian to the end huh?"

"You know me too well. How'd you plan to do it?"

The man frowned, before sighing. Reaching into his jacket.

"You know I don't want to do this."

"And you know what'll become of you after this."

"... Sì. Can you-"

"But of course."

"Not re-"

"I'll tell Emily everything."

"That-"

"..."

"You know me too well."

"I'd rather if we didn't in here actually. Tea?"

"... Why?"

"Left a few experiments in here. I'd rather not blow this house to its foundations, assuming you beat me."

"... Makes sense. I'll have a black."

"Olivia really left that in you huh?"

"Yeah, I guess."

He handed him the cup, tea bag left within as he downed it. There came a pause, the two enjoying what would likely be their last moment with each other. He gripped his chest.

"I- I'm sorry."

"don't be. Had it coming for a while. Besides."

He reached for his mug, there came a hint of steel. His fist thrown towards the man.

"I had it coming for a while."

The punch sent him tumbling, the Australian sweeping his foot and slamming his back against the metal floor as his other foot switched. Slamming Sul into the living room. The TV dismantled, items left scattered in corners. He'd always done this, readying his place for a fight.

He got to his feet, gun in hand as he aimed towards his friend. But he wasn't running towards him, instead the man was thrown onto the floor again, a bag of rice weighing him down as his friend held his foot over him.

"I thought I taught you to never let your guard down."

"... who said I ever had it up."

"..."

His Adam swallowed, sighing as he pried the bag off him. Taking his gun, he fired the empty chamber.

"Figured you'd not even try."

"I wasn't that obvious. Was I?"

"Y'know Tony's probably outta town by now right?"

"Yeah- HEY."

Tossing the camera module into the fireplace, the microphone crushed between his fingers.

"Remember how I'm technically the best in the industry?"

He swore in Italian [read: not translating it], grumpy but alive.

"So that's it?"

"Fuck no. You think the Don's gonna be happy? I've got Poppy working on modding the system. If that man looks it up and doesn't find footage of your death. Y'know what'll happen to Em?"

"... I hate you."

"Hate me later, you're going to live with Olivia."

"Yeah- Olivia's dead."

"No. She isn't."

The Asian pulled out a book, a audio player stuck out the wall.

"DAD. You don't want to know how hard it was to keep THIS STUPID SPAGHETTI BITCH from pulling all kinds..."

He looked at him, patting his shoulder as he moved to the basement.

"Right. Come with me."

His hands shaking in front of him, I looked back.

"Are you crying?"

"She's- OW. [I'm not translating that]"

"Keep it down. This place isn't THAT soundproofed."

"... Scusa."

"Y'know you talkin' like that's really 'nnoying?"

The man let him walk down, kicking the wall in the basement, the panel opening a door.

"What- SINCE-"

CRACK.

The man slapped his ass, hissing once more.

"SOUND. PROOF. NO."

Moving his arms, he glared at his friend.

"Chiedo scusa"

"Moi bien. Imbécil."

"EHI"

"You coming down or not?"

His voice echoed from downstairs, the basement door closed as what the sound of several people opened the door barely echoed to the basement.

"I'm coming! Stronza."

"Cazzo!"

"THAT'S NOT. HOW YOU. SAY IT!"

The panel closed as he did, lights already turned on as he sat in top of some kind of capsule.

"Ok big man."

He jumped off, hopping off the large plastic tube.

"Hand on the console, here's your bag."

"... Is this my stuff?"

"Yeah, robbed your place this morning. Your boss' encryption is really shit."

"... I thought I'd just lost my phone."

"Why did you leave your wine ring in your fan?"

"How long did you take to find it?"

"like most of- ohhh. That's actually smart."

"Mmm. Wait. Is this Tagliatelle??"

"Yeah. Your wife sent it over. You'll find more when you. Get. In!"

Throwing the man into the vehicle, the Asian scratched his head.

"OH RIGHT."

Hopping to the side, he skid his way down a hall. A few moments later he slid into the wall.

"OW. 愚蠢的摩擦！Here's your coat and shit. BYE!"

He slammed a big red button, the coat smacking him in the face as the vehicle didn't move.

"ByEEEE?!!"

"Anyways."

He turned heel, flicking switches before pressing another button. Metal poles dropped down, hole opening on the platform in front of him as the mana crystals shimmered, held at eye level the crystal transferred it's energy into the small engine below. Lifting the man to the basement. Panels shifting into wall as he stepped out the basement. The elevator closed, as he looked around.

"You're back early."

"That woman is the reason British people could take over the world."

"Oh I'm sure. Go find you Megan. If she's still not up tell her she'll be drinking A blood until next week."

#tag #Trio #Aura #writing #Vampy #Orangeade #Idk #:)

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dojae-huh · 10 months

Note

There was an sasaeng accident when Do left for dinner party. Ppl thought she was one of sasaeng slash fansite of Do because she looks like korean/asian and some of Do fansites went to milan. I dont think so. Fansite would focus on camera instead asking for authograph. It got me thinking does SM or any other agencies 'adopting' fansites? There is no way they have information of artists whereabouts if its not from insider. Do aware of these ppl, some of them are regulars in fansign event

Agencies have contact with fanclubs and with fansites. It is advertisement, why wouldn't they use it. I used to wonder why Koreans permit fans at airports, as I understand it is due to a lack of laws that protect from stalking. And now I see that this major nuance is used for advertisement of clothes and additional hype.

You can look for videos on k-pop related stuff on YT. It will take some time finding channels that actually do informative videos and not just empty talks and coverage of rumours, but you'll find answers. There should be some info on fansites and companies.

I know there was a fansite who became an idol herself. There are male fansites. It is true that some fansites cross into sasaeng territory (take pictures of unofficial events, come too close, etc), but fandoms blacklist them. Generally fansites are just private photographers who earn money with merch. I saw a few in the scene with Doyoung waving from a balcony (giant cameras and folding stools give them away, heh).

As for the alleged sasaeng. I saw a post with the video, but didn't read the thread and people's reaction. I can't tell if it was a known ss or an eager fan. SS I saw in airports bulldose throught bodyguards and try to touch the idol, not get an autograph.

Sasaengs do pursue idols across countries, although they can be Westerners as well, usually it is Asians afterall. So yeah, fans get super vigilant and suspicious, some Asian fans who attend concerts in the West or SEA even face prejudice because of it.

This BA business is all about gathering attention and using socmed for spreading the name and the outfits. The brand wants fans and media photographers at the hotel. I haven't seen any news about fans following Doyoung on his day off. That would be ss behaviour as he stepped down from his role of an idol and was just a tourist (I mean... he probably shot for the vlog, heh, still).

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majimemegoro · 3 years

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I too find Okudera look not Japanese, but I think it's just a thing Japanese video games (and anime and manga) do? Western facial features are considered attractive in Japan. He is the protagonist of a huge side story and has many screentime! Kiryu and Daigo in Dragon Engine don't look 100% Japanese either?

*adds 'okudera was designed to be attractive' to the iceberg post*

#okudera #yeah this is very fair #i mean if you look close its like yeah hes asian but hes not ''''as asian'''' as other characters #i just wanted to clown on my non asian parents dictating what does and doesnt look japanese lol #but you right.#wheres the post thats someone posting a picture of y0 kiryu and being like 'just another boring white male protagonist'

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vi-trying-to-survive · 3 years

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Literally in love with your page haha.

Would I be able to request Stephen strange x fem reader who stutters sometimes please.

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Stuttered Love

Stephen Strange x f!Reader

Warnings: None, this is all fluff 💖💖💖 ~ unless you count awkward Stephen & (Y/N) 😢

Summary: (Y/N) wants to tell Stephen how she feels but the words don't always come out how she wants them to.

A/N: I hope you like it!! And if any of you have any ideas you want me to write out, please leave a request I love writing them out 💖💖💖

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Throwing her head into her hands, she let out a frustrated groan, sliding them down her face to look at the taller man who stood sliding worn, leather-covered books onto aged, wooden shelves, "why is this so hard?".

He turned towards her, stopping his work, giving her an exasperated look, his lips pulled into a frown, "you'll never know unless you try (Y/N)", moving closer to put a hand over her shoulder, his face softening sympathetically at the look of defeat the sorceress was giving him, "but I believe in you, ... I mean if you learned magic, how much harder could this be", moving back to his cart that still held large piles of books on it.

Straightening herself slightly, she grinned hopefully at him, "yeah, you're right, I can do this", rising from her seat at one of the tables, she dug around in her pocket, stopping when her fingers found the cool, metal with intricate carvings along its surface, "I mean we're both accomplished individuals, there's zero reason for me to start stuttering when he's talking to me". Sliding the Sling Ring onto her fingers, she raised her hands to start forming the blazing ring that would take her to the building that she now called home in New York, but froze when she heard a familiar voice accompanied by footsteps coming closer.

"Hey Wong, I was wondering if the library has any books on inter-dimensional travel", the new sorcerer supreme, called out as he walked into the small space, eyes lost in the pages of a thick book he held in his hands. (Y/N) spun her head to the Asian man next to her, eyes wide in fear, pleading for help. Unfortunately he quickly proved to be useless to her cause , as he responded, "Let me just check quickly", holding his hand up to stop Stephen from following, bringing him back to reality, "you wait here, I'll only take a few minutes", giving the almost-trembling woman a stern look, imploring her to tell him how she felt.

As Wong's steps slowly faded out of earshot, he surveyed the room, gaze quickly falling on the woman who stood before him, anxiously fidgeting with her fingers while biting the edge of her lip. He couldn't help but admire the way strands of hair had slipped out of her ponytail, framing her face as the light from the afternoon sun shone gently on her, giving her a celestial glow. Realizing that he may have been staring too long, he subtly cleared his throat, "hello (Y/N), what time did you get here?".

His question made her shift her gaze onto his eyes for a few seconds, admiring the soft blue hue of his eyes, before abruptly looking away, "I- I um- about 10- I think-", she stammered out, mentally slapping herself for making herself sound so nervous, not that she wasn't. Panicking she tried to continue the conversation, wishing that there was someone that could give her better advice on how to do this, feeling like a teenager again, she gathered up all her courage, "so- wha- why- um- interdimensional travel?". Waves of terror splashed around inside of her, she had been so close, the words just at the tip of her tongue, her voice screamed and thundered behind the grin that she put on.

His eyes lit up as her question drifted through the air, less because of his passion for it, but more so because this seemed to be one of the rare instances that she had spoken to him, which was odd considering the fact that they had both lived together in the same, aged brick building for the past few months.

When Wong had first suggested the possibility of another sorcerer at the New York sanctum, he was against it, but after the events of their latest battle, he felt that having someone else there would help put him to ease. What he wasn't expecting was the soft-spoken, intelligible woman that met him at the foyer, glancing around warily as she stepped out of the blazing, auburn colored ring. He had noticed her even when in Kamar-Taj, admiring how she easily understood the hidden meaning behind the Ancient One's words, performing spells without struggle or difficulty, but his confidence failed him at the time, still trying to comprehend the possibility of everything happening around him, so he chose to marvel at her from the sidelines. So, it was safe to say that he was more than pleased to see that she was the sorceress chosen to assist him in protecting the city that never sleeps, only to be disappointed at her supposed lack of interest in him.

Snapping himself back to the present, he mirrored her smile, moving closer to her frame that was leaning against the side of a table, so that they were a few inches away from each other, taking her hand in his confidently, "how about I tell you over dinner?".

Her eyes grew as wide as saucers, as her smile faded, not expecting his response at all, heart pounding so forcefully that it was threatening to burst out at any second, she found herself unable to form proper sentences, her mind going into overdrive.

Her lack of an answer, started to make him doubt himself, wondering if he had made the wrong move. Trying to correct his mess, he began to stutter out, "if you don't want to it's fine- but that doesn't mean I won't tell you what I'm working on-", his eyes pleading that she wouldn't think much of it, letting go of her warm hand, allowing the cold to envelope his, "I mean I have to, ... we are supposed to protect the New York sanctum together".

His panic and rapid words were quite a scene to her, mostly seeing him calm and composed, which startled her into opening her clamped mouth, forcing the words out, "I- I like- I like you Stephen', practically praying that he hadn't changed his mind already, as she desperately clutched at his hand again.

His outpour of words stopped at her reply, his whole body relaxing at those simple words, as he found his smile once again, watching as she matched it, the edges of her mouth curving upwards. Pulling her closer to him, bending his head down to whisper into her ear, sending chills down her spine, "I like you too", hand trailing along the side of her face, to tilt her chin up to look at him, "is it ok if I-", being cut off as she pressed her lips to his, quickly responding, moving his arms to encircle her waist as she grasped his neck gently.

A loud groan startled the pair, forcing them to break the kiss, turning around to see Wong, returning from the deeper archives. “Do you know how long I was waiting for you two the finish?”, he sighed, rubbing his fingers across his eyes exasperatedly, “It was like watching two teenagers in a terrible rom-com”.

Covering her face with the palms of her hands to hide the crimson tint that shaded her skin, pressing herself further towards his, embarrassment burning into her. Protectively he wrapped his arms around her tighter, resting his chin on her head, sighing, "it wasn't that bad".

Rolling his eyes as he placed the thick, dusty books on the table with a heavy thud, "It definitely was", he teased, having witnessed the whole thing as he waited in the back, giving his friend the space she needed to confess, not realizing that it was going to take much longer than he expected.

Stephen hurriedly gathered up the books that he asked for and dragged the woman attached to his side out along with him, leaving their friend in the library, still laughing at the pair's predicament from earlier on. As he slowed their pace, she raised her head from where it was buried at his side, to lean tenderly on his shoulder as they walked. "So, where do you want to have dinner tonight?", he questioned, giving her an inquisitive grin, that made her beam at his, standing on the tips of her toes, to place a gentle kiss on his cheek.

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avintagekiss24 · 3 years

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Hi! I don't want to start anything on here and am always willing for civil conversations. At this point there's so much I've found out about Seb (besides the video he liked, the tommy lee thing, and the girlfriend thing) that I feel so guilty if I would continue to support him. I love him sm but it just doesn't look good rn. He is associated/follows an organisation (for helping veterans) that has posted a blue lives matter flag picture and who's co-founder has sexual assault allegations against him, and worked with him in 'The last full measure'. His friend Paul Walter Hauser has done blackface in the past, and when called out on it he just listed a few people that also did blackface. There's more, I found a discussion on here that I can link. I seriously don't support "cancel culture" bc I don't think it helps anyone but there are just a lot of 'mistakes' and shady people that can be linked to Seb, I wish it wouldn't be that way. I honestly don't know what to think about it anymore.

Hi! I’m also open to having civil conversations and I don’t believe you’re trying to start anything. I really do think this situation of dragging up a four year old video and taking it completely out of context is harmful not just to Black people, but to fandom/activism in general. This is gonna be long because I’m going to take your points one by one, and I want to preface this by saying that I will not answer any derogatory, sideways asks pertaining to this subject. I will delete every single one and will block your silly ass. I’m not going to argue with people who think I’m blindly supporting Sebastian because I’m just trying to get fucked by him, or people who think I hate myself and am trying to appease some white man.

So, on with the discourse!

The video he liked - this video was taken completely out of context and that is my main issue with this whole situation. It was not a video of a white man saying that he thinks he should be able to say the n word as everyone claimed it was. They were quickly debating on whether or not it's okay to say in rap lyrics. He was told no, that's not okay, that's never okay and they moved on from it. That's it. End of story. That somehow was twisted into a click bait style headline of "Sebastian Stan likes a video of a white man defending his right to say the n word" when that is absolutely not true. My other issue is that people are more upset that Sebastian liked the video than they are about the white man in the video literally saying the n word. So, do you really care about the use of the n word like you're claiming? Cuz if you do, you'd be more upset at the white man that said the word than you would be about the white man simply liking the video. Or, are you just using this as an excuse to grandstand against a white man you don't like?

The Tommy Lee thing - Sebastian Stan playing Tommy Lee does not make Sebastian Stan a bad person. Is Charlize Theron a bad person for playing Aileen Wuornos, a prostitute who started murdering men? Is Leonardo DiCaprio a bad person for playing a slave owner? Is Edward Norton a bad person for playing a nazi sympathizing racist? Actors play bad people. That doesn't mean that they themselves are bad people. 1990's Tommy Lee was a bad person, but that should have no bearing on who Sebastian Stan is or his character as a man.

The gf/Paul Walter Hauser thing - Why are we holding Sebastian accountable for what the people around him are doing? Again, why are we more upset that Sebastian is associated with people who have done questionable things than the specific people themselves? I'm not going to speak on the kimono wearing -- I'm not Asian. It's not my place to say whether or not its offensive because it's not my culture, but she posted that picture and attended that party before she started dating Sebastian, quite possibly before she even knew him. Same with Paul. I think that black face thing was long before he knew Sebastian. Now, if Sebastian was defending these actions, going around saying "I think it's okay for white women to wear Kimono's" "I think black face is fine" "I think white people should be able to say the n word" then we'd have a different story, wouldn't we? But that's not what we have, and that's not what he is doing. He is not responsible for the things his friends do or have done in the past just because he's more famous than they are, and he is not required to speak on them. Let's put it this way -- would you be comfortable having to be responsible for something a friend of yours did before you knew them? Would you want to have to be forced to answer for your friend when you yourself had nothing to do with the questionable behavior?

The organization that supports the military/blue lives matter - Sebastian cannot control what message that foundation puts out and it does not mean that he is or is not pro-police himself. There is not enough concrete evidence -- if any evidence for that matter -- that Sebastian is a blue lives matter supporter. Did Sebastian donate before they put up the blue lives matter post? Or after? I don’t know, cuz I don’t follow him that closely, but if he donates before they come out with a particular stance, that means he should be held accountable for that? I know I donated to an organization once and they turned out to support something that i’m 100% against. That means I’m a bad person because I couldn’t see into the future? Another point, how can we be certain that Sebastian saw the blue lives matter post in the first place? I know I’m not online 24 hrs a day, I miss posts all the time and I’m just an average person. I make three or four tumblr posts a day, and I’m gone. I have to play catch up on social media, and even then, I still miss stuff. So I’m sure the same happens to a working actor. As for the co-founder, I don't know who this person is and would rather not get into any allegations against them because I don't want to trigger anyone who comes across this post. If Sebastian knows about these allegations, is a willing participant/supporter of this person then yeah, that's pretty shitty, but we don't know the inner workings of this friendship/acquaintance/work relationship. We don’t know how close they are or if they even still speak.

I’m a pretty big fan of Don Cheadle. He’s a stand up guy, he’s a great actor, he’s funny, he’s political and stands up for what he believes in and in a very public way. I support him. Don Cheadle is also friends with Chris Evans, RDJ, Mark Ruffalo, and Letitia Wright (just to name a few). Chris Evans has a bipartisan forum that highlights/promotes right wing politicians, RDJ defended Chris Pratt during the whole “he’s the worst Chris in Hollywood” crap, who’s technically done black face, and who once said to a female reporter “nice tits” when she walked into the room, Mark Ruffalo just walked back his support of Palestine, and Letitia Wright retweeted/supported an anti-vaxxer/anti-trans Pastor who equated an ingredient of the covid vaccine to the devil because it contained some parts of the word Lucifer. Does that mean Don is now a bad person because he’s friends with these people? Why isn’t he getting any heat for his friendships with them? Why isn’t he being held accountable for what they’ve done and said? Oh right, because he’s not a white fave. So people don’t care one way or the other, which brings me to my next point.

I can guarantee you that if Sebastian’s gf or Paul or this co-founder were not associated with Sebastian in any way, nobody would give a shit about her wearing a kimono, about Paul doing black face, or about the co-founder/organization being blue lives matter supporters and in that lies the actual problem. Being critical of people and their actions should be consistent and should happen all the time -- not just when they interact with your white fave. That’s when it becomes performative and looks like you just want to be able to show internet people that you follow/support/stan unproblematic celebrities, when really, you don’t care.

I think the moral of this post is that I think it's unfair to hold a complete stranger to a standard that I cannot hold myself to. I also don't view celebrities the way most teenagers/twenty somethings do, and that’s because when I entered fandom we didn't have social media, so I grew up with a wall between myself and said celebrities. There is no wall now with the presence of social media. "Fans" nowadays have a weird ownership feeling over celebrities because they can read their personal thoughts or view personal pictures and think that they have this personal quasi-friendship with them. I can't get on board with that. I prefer having the wall and I still keep the wall.

If supporting Sebastian makes you uncomfortable, then by all means, stop supporting him. Just make sure you are making this decision for yourself based on credible sources and concrete evidence and that you're not letting this fake woke activist mob make you feel uncomfortable. Internet activism means nothing unless you put your money where your mouth is in your real life and 90% of the social justice internet warriors do not. Real activism is bigger than changing your avi to a black square.

#asks #answered #sebastian stan

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themaribatpit · 3 years

Text

Jasonette July Day 12: Dare

Written by: The Maribat Pit @jasonette-july-event Prompt: Dare Rated: T (Drink responsibly my friends) A/N: Maribat fangirl went to Uni in the UK. Most people thought they could outdrink the Americans, and that American beer tasted horrible. DC fanboy isn’t much of a drinker. Also we planned this earlier, but I saw this blog post from @ritacrow-blogrequesting something similar a few days ago, so here you go. I don’t know if you’re a fan of the in vino veritas/drunken confession trope, so feel free to skip it if you aren’t.

“So, why are we doing this again?” Tim asked hesitantly, as they gathered in the Wayne Manor lounge. “Because Pixie Pop here issued a challenge, and I don’t plan on letting her win”, Jason explained with a smirk. “All she said was ‘American drinking laws are bullshit’, and it’s not like you don’t know the name of every single bar in Gotham that doesn’t card.” Tim retorted. “She also said American beer tastes gross, so I don’t know why you brought Budweiser of all things”.

“She dared us to try and drink her under the table, and I’m sure as hell not backing down.” Jason hissed, and Tim decided that it was pointless trying to argue. The whole reason Tim and Steph were even involved was because they had just turned 18, which meant they were allowed to take part in this little drinking competition. Alfred was in the corner of the room keeping score, someone had to, considering the night they were about to have.

After they all gathered in the lounge, it was time for the challenge to begin. Barbara quietly sipped her glass of wine, curling into Dick’s side as she watched the movie playing on the TV. Jason and Dick had downed a bottle of beer each, waiting for Marinette to finish her first glass of wine. Marinette rested her back against Jason’s arm as she watched the movie play out, the night had just begun and she wasn’t about to let them win. She wouldn’t be able to look any non-American person in the eye if they knew she got out drunk by them. Marinette took in the soft glow of the lounge, alternating between leaning on the sofa or Jason’s leather-clad shoulder. It almost reminded her of her home city at night. She looked around at the people she had come to know, fairly certain she had the dopiest smile on her face at that moment.

She had arrived in Gotham City not long ago, and she was surprised to find that some of them welcomed her with open arms. Not all of them, obviously, some were a bit more welcoming than others. Bruce didn’t really trust her as a magic user, and Damian usually kept to himself. Preferring to be alone with his pets, Titus and Alfred (the cat). The others assured her not to take it too personally, that they are like that with everyone. With Jason, it was hard to tell what he thought about her. Dick was like an older brother to everyone, and in some ways reminded Marinette of Chat Noir, alot. While Barbara, Steph and Cass were like the sisters Marinette didn’t have. Tim was at least somewhat curious about her powers and how they worked, hard as he tried to fight it in the beginning.

With Jason, it was much harder to tell at times. He wasn’t quite as closed off as Damian, though sometimes she found him in the Wayne Manor library reading by the window. They had each other’s backs in a fight, and the fact that she was much smaller compared to him earned her the nickname “Pixie Pop”. They worked well together on missions, and there was plenty of friendly banter between them. There was almost a veneer of sarcasm and bravado.

The only time it showed any sign of falling was when his pit madness took over. Even then she was more focused on asking Plagg and Tikki for help, seeing as it was their magic causing this. There was no fixing it, but they had managed to help get it under control. Marinette was almost frustrated when he woke up to find her waiting at his bedside, after working around the clock to keep the madness at bay. The sounds of him screaming and thrashing around were still ringing in her ear, and the most that he could muster was “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you there, Pixie.” he drawled.

“Pixie, you there?” Jason gently poked her on the shoulder and she realised that she had been staring into her wine glass for a moment. She took a large gulp before setting the glass down on the table, the night had just begun.

As the night went on, Tim was not impressed with how beer tasted. “People actually drink this stuff for fun?” he muttered. He was starting to think Marinette might have a point about how American beer tasted. Sadly the old adage of “liquor before beer, you’re in the clear” meant that it was too late to try Steph’s approach. Steph was nursing a Jack Daniels and coke as she watched the film, letting that light of the TV screen dance in front of them.

Later into the night, Tim was getting tipsy at that point. Considering this was his first time drinking, Marinette gave him a smile that said “you get points for trying”. If Steph wasn’t drunk now, she was going to be feeling the effects very soon. She mostly drank spirits chased down with soda and juice. Barbara had already left after a couple of glasses of wine, deciding to leave the rest of them to this game. Jason and Dick had beer bottles lined up in front of them, almost as if they were competing with each other first. Marinette continued to leisurely sipped her wine, knowing that she was their final boss at that moment.

In the end, only Marinette and Jason were left in the lounge. Steph left had already left, and Tim followed not long after, Alfred helped get Dick into bed after he nearly passed out on the coffee table. “It’s you and me, Poxie Pip” Jason slurred, Alfred occasionally came in to check on them.

Marinette, who at this point was slightly tipsy, leaned in close and whispered in his ear “What’s the matter? Afraid you’ll lose?”

“There’s worse ways to go, Pixie, trust me.” he laughed, Marinette gave him a very sad smile. He finished the last of his beer bottle before laying down on the sofa, resting his head on Marinette’s lap. Marinette was certain she could feel her face heating up, she could hear her heart pounding in her chest as she looked down at him.

“Are you sure my teeny tiny legs can support your big head?” she joked. Great, now she was doing it too. she looked away in hopes that he couldn’t see the blush on her face. She didn’t get Asian glow, but now she was really hoping she had that as an excuse.

“I’ve seen you lift goons twice your size and throw them across rooms,” he laughed “besides, this feels kinda nice.” he mumbled.

“Yeah but that was me as Ladybug, it’s also what keeps me from tripping over air and landing on my face.” she explained. She didn’t think her heart would be able to handle looking down to see one of the few times she saw him completely at peace. She was used to people who preferred her as her alter ego anyhow.

“I guess you win this round,” he slurred, Marinette still hadn’t moved his head from her lap. If anything, her free hand was working its way through his dark locks of hair. He smiled, letting himself be lulled to sleep by the simple yet kind gesture. “Serves me right,” he yawned, “getting drunk with a fairy princess.”

Marinette turned her attention back to the last of her wine, “there he goes again, making silly jokes like that.” she thought. “Especially with one as pretty as you,” he laughed. Marinette was about to get up at that moment, now he was just being ridiculous. “I like you...” were the last words he said before letting sleep take him.

It was everything Marinette could do not to drop her wine class on the floor in shock. Marinette thought she heard wrong. She shook her head, what did it matter? I mean, she had called her friends pretty loads of times before, it’s not like he said he loved her or anything. These were things that you said to friends all the time, right? At that moment, there was a knock on the door, Alfred came in and saw Jason asleep in Marinette’s lap. “I was just about to leave could you maybe help Jason get back to his room? That would be great thanks Alfred.” she quickly spluttered before dashing out of the lounge and down the hallway in search of an empty guest room to sleep in.

Jason tragically awoke the next morning with a hangover and a vague memory of what had happened the night before. He thought this was probably the very reason why Bruce did not drink. Alfred came in with a tray of chilli dogs and water, to nurse the hangover. “Thanks Alfred,” Jason groaned, “do I even wanna know what happened last night?”

“If you must know Master Todd, you won second place in last night’s drinking competition.” He explained, Jason sighed, Marinette wasn’t going to let him live that down. He still had to admit he was impressed with her. “Miss Dupain-Cheng seemed rather flustered after you compared the experience to ‘getting drunk with a fairy princess’ and confessed your admiration and affection for her.” It was all coming back to him now, and he was about to be sick. He told her that he thought she was pretty and that he liked her. He wasn’t wrong, but it probably didn’t sound as romantic coming from someone who was probably very drunk. He reached for the chilli dog, hoping that he would be able to keep it down. “In vino veritas indeed, or in birro veritas in your case”, Alfred quoted. Jason took a sip of water, still too stunned to speak. “If you still hold such affection for Miss Dupain-Cheng, might I suggest telling her when you’ve sobered up?” he suggested, giving Jason a slight sympathetic smile.

“I’ll try, thanks Alfred” he replied as Alfred left the room, leaving him to his thoughts.

A couple of days later, Marinette was sitting in her studio, drinking a warm mug of hot chocolate. Jason hadn’t called her or spoken to her since the party, and she had hoped that he had just drunkenly forgotten his little drunken confession. It wasn’t that Marinette didn’t reciprocate his feelings, it just felt like there was no point in putting stock in something he said while he was so very drunk. It almost made Marinette laugh a little at the thought. Her phone buzzed, it was a message from Jason: “Hey, you busy today? I’ve got something to tell you. Sober, this time”. Marinette smiled, maybe this time there was truth in the foul tasting American beer.

BONUS: The next morning in the Batcave... Tim: That tasted like actual vomit. Dick: It's an acquired taste, Baby Bird. Tim: Which is to say you were peer pressured into liking it.

#jasonette #jasonettejuly2021 #ml x dc #maribat

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dat-town · 3 years

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wish you were here

Characters: Mark Lee & you

Setting: wish dragon au (and a bit of aladdin because mark even has a tiger in their garden like jasmine did. don’t ask why, just blame the regular mv), childhood best friends to lovers (at least there’s potential?)

Genre: fluff and humour

Warnings: mentions of a sick animal and a wild animal kept as a pet in a huge garden (just like jasmine’s tiger, it’s very tamed)

Summary: A magical teapot, a dragon that wants everyone to be happy and an old friendship being revived. Oh yeah, have I told you that you have 3 wishes?

Words: 6.4k

For @restlessmaknae 💕

When your mother told you you got delivery to your childhood home, you certainly did not expect this: a brown box as big as a small watermelon with your old Canadian address and MARK LEE scrabbled next to your name as another recipient but no sender. Not to mention, the first stamp on the thing was dating back to the early 2010s. Where the hell was this package for 10 years? And what would you and your old neighbour slash best friend have gotten together?

Okay, first things first:

You and this clumsy, kind of cute kid, Mark had been quite tight while growing up. You were born in the same year, only a month apart, and his family lived in the house next to yours in the suburbs of Vancouver, so it was kind of natural. You two might have been against the world kind of comrades, playing hide and seek when you were six and wondering about whether time travelling was possible through black holes at twelve. But no matter how close you used to be, you fell out of touch when Mark's family moved to the other end of the world, back to Korea, their roots when you were fourteen. You slowly forgot about him, and started university in the city, moving away from home, so nothing really reminded you of him ⎼ and your stupid, big fat crush on him that you had no courage to tell him about in middle school ⎼, nothing until this box.

You put the delivered package on your kitchen table while you make some dinner for yourself out of what you have gotten during grocery shopping earlier just before you picked up the mysterious stuff at the post office. You eye it suspiciously over your pasta, really not wrapping your mind about what it could be but instead of annoying yourself with this pointless curiosity, you put your fork down and stand up to open it. It’s a struggle at first, the box being secured with multiple adhesive tapes over the years but when you finally get rid of all that and can look inside of it, an intense feeling rushes through you… immerse disappointment.

“A teapot? For real? What were we thinking?” you furrow your brows taking the small, green and pretty old teapot into your hands. It looks like a piece of a traditional Asian set with its jade colour and dragon pattern. It couldn’t have been in a much better shape 10 years ago either seeing how wayworn it is but still, you expected something more… exciting? Something funny that might or might not give you an excuse to look up Mark Lee on the internet and message him for the sake of old times. But how lame it would be to befriend him on Facebook only to tell him that you got delivered a teapot under both your names. Hah, you would rather not embarrass yourself like that.

You shoot one last glance at the teapot before leaving it on your counter and going back to your food, you successfully forget about the whole ordeal. You carry your life on with only one small difference: Mark Lee back on your mind after long, long years.

It was just a small crush, you tell yourself, sighing as you look into the mirror, absentmindedly wondering how he’s doing. Does he think of you sometimes as well? Did he go to music college like he has always wanted? Is he happy? You wish he was even if he’s half a world away and with that thought you think it’s time to go to sleep despite the upcoming weekend days. You don’t want to mess up your sleep schedule over some boy but as soon as you pull the blanket over your chest and close your eyes, something explodes in your kitchen.

You jump out of bed faster than lightning, in slight panic over the fact that your neighbours will hate you for bothering them late at night and your landlord would kill you if you managed to blow up your microwave. But the sight that welcomes you is like no other that you imagined. The whole room is covered in thick pink glittery smoke. Like your worst Barbie nightmare.

“What the⎼” you cough, waving your hands to clear the air and once it dissolves into nothingness with its weirdly cotton candy smell, there’s a boy in the middle of it all, sitting cross legged on your kitchen counter so casually as if he owned the place. His pink-ish purple hair hangs into his eyes and he seems to find your coffee machine strangely interesting. You grab the first thing you can ⎼ a blender ⎼ and hold it up in defensive before yelling at the boy: “Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my apartment?”

The stranger’s mouth pulls up in a charming smile, his eyes sparkle as he turns his attention to you, hopping off the counter. He’s all thin and long limbs, so you hate how you hate to look up at him as he walks towards you before bowing ceremoniously.

“Hello, sorry for the sudden appearance, I just couldn’t wait any longer! I’ve been stuck in that teapot waaay too long. I didn’t mean to be rude or anything. My name is Taeyong, I’m a wish dragon and you’re my new owner,” he smiles and what he says makes absolutely no sense.

“A wish dragon?” you mumble in shock, looking around to see if this is just another prank of Johnny. You wouldn’t be surprised to see him jump out from under one of the cupboards. Or maybe you just fell asleep and you’re dreaming. Yeah, that seems like a realistic scenario.

“Ah, yes! I know I don’t look like it but modern times require modern solutions. Most people freak out because of my dragon form, so human it is,” the boy who seems only a few years older than you grins as he’s chatting and you have to give it to him, he takes this role pretty seriously. “You have three wishes as my owner. You can ask for anything as long as it’s not about death or love.”

So you got yourself someone who thinks he’s basically a genie? Oh gosh, is he that drunk?

“Aha, very funny. I’m too tired for this prank, so I would appreciate it if you left the same way you came...” you point towards your window because there’s no way he came through the door. Putting down your blender because the guy looks pretty harmless despite his crazy blabbering, you move to go back to your bedroom.

“No, no, no, I can’t do that,” the boy, Taeyong as he introduced himself, appears in front of you within a second and grabs your shoulder as if he could shake some sense into you. He looks pretty desperate. “I can only get a new owner if I fulfill all wishes of yours. It was super stuffy in that box the last decade, you know.”

At that excuse you let out a laugh.

“You don’t even fit it the⎼”

“You were saying?” Taeyong is suddenly nowhere near ahead of you but instead a small creature, supposedly a dragon, in the size of your palm flies in front of your eye level. “It’s magic!”

Okay, now that sight makes you feel like it’s you who is drunk. Or worse.

“Am I dead?” you have to ask in a small, uncertain voice, trying to think back what could have happened. Maybe that explosion literally blew your apartment up? But it hurts when you pinch your arm and turning back into his human form, Taeyong wants to prove the very same thing. Not the hurting but the not dead part, obviously.

“No, you’re very much alive and a happy owner of a wish dragon. Not permanently, of course, but still,” he tells you as he drags you onto your couch in the living room. As if sitting down could help processing all this.

So you have a wish dragon in your home, a magical creature that can casually switch between its dragon and human form and he says you should wish for three things, so he could leave and you could go back to your old, boring life without magic and things that scare you to death at 11PM.

“Can I ask… why? Why me? I’m not really owner-material,” you whisper because heck yeah, you even managed to kill your cactus before. Taeyong purses his lips as he sits down, a hand at his chin.

“Well, it’s unusual indeed to have a peasant girl, no offence, as my owner but as far as I know, you and your friend asked for a sign that magic was real.”

Oh, you remember that, being so obsessed with shooting stars and other stuff like that, you two used Mark’s brother’s computer to browse the internet, trying to find evidence about all that. You were kids wanting to believe in a world beyond the one you knew. But...

“That was like 10 years ago,” you furrow your eyebrows, not getting the timing.

“Well, sorry, you weren’t put on the top of the Heaven wish list and the shipping from Shanghai to Vancouver isn’t the fastest either,” Taeyong shrugs as if it was supposed to be natural. As if that was the most unbelievable thing. Well, delivery services are sometimes a pain in the ass, that’s true but getting a wish delivered by Heaven was something you would have never thought of and it all drains down on you. Strangest realisation of your life.

“So… it’s all real,” you whisper ahead of yourself: magic, dragons and all that. You could basically see your old best friend’s I told you so smile and let out a soft chuckle. “I wish Mark could meet with you, too.”

At that the guy ahead of you claps his hands and rubs them together, creating the same purple smoke from before. You look at him alarmed.

“Your wish, my command,” Taeyong grins and lifts his hands and before you could make a sound of protest because gosh, you didn’t mean it literally, you feel the ground move under your feet and you’re falling, into the darkness but despite shutting your eyes automatically, fearing the impact of the crash, nothing comes. Only the smell of soy sauce in the air and warm sunshine on your skin… Wait, what?

Your eyelids fly open and you notice in shock that you’re not in your flat anymore, ready to sleep. Instead, you stand in the middle of a goddamn street somewhere in Korea based on the signs still in your PJ shorts and tee. Oh my gosh! You hide in an alley right away and yank the seemingly proud Taeyong with you.

“I didn’t tell you that I meant right now! I can’t meet Mark in my PJs and I need my phone and wallet to function anyways. Not to mention, I don’t speak Korean at all...” you ramble panicking, the realisation that you’re indeed on the other side of the Earth due to some magic is yet to register. But the awkwardness from the stares you have just gotten has already turned you bashful.

Listening to you, the wish dragon seems sheepish and slightly embarrassed as he scratched his nape, his colourful hair falling into his cast down eyes.

“Oh… sorry. I got so excited over the wish that I didn’t think about it! It’s been a while since I did teleport magic but hey, I still have it in me. Anyways, sorry. Phone and wallet, you said? Here you go,” he pulls out something from his pants which magically seems to be indeed your belongings. That definitely makes things earlier.

“Uhm, thanks. Where are we exactly?”

“Ah, well you mentioned your friend Mark Lee, so we’re here. Well, one bell away because I did remember that it’s rude to intrude other’s houses without permission first,” oh now, you know, you snicker internally and gulp because hell, even if you wanted to see Mark, you wouldn’t have thought that the meeting would come so soon. You didn’t have enough time to prepare yourself mentally.

“So… you’re telling me that this… is where Mark lives?” you point at the impressive apartment complex on the corner of the street but Taeyong shakes his head.

“Nope, This is where your Mark lives,” he says and before you could object about the ‘your’ part, the dragon points at the other side of the road at a luxurious house with a huge garden, basically a palace. Seeing the beautiful fountain, the modern and yet traditional Korean style building beyond the fences makes your jaw drop.

“Hahaha, alright for a magic dragon you must have made a mistake. There’s no way the Mark Lee I know lives here,” you look back at Taeyong finding it funny that the kid who used to wore his favourite tees until his mother basically threw them out would live at such a place.

“Mark Lee, korean name Minhyung, supposed to be 22 years old internationally soon. Bad eyesight, contagious laugh, clumsy but has surprisingly good reflexes, gets embarrassed easily. Sound familiar?” Taeyong crooks a brow at you as he reads the information off from a parchment he just took out of his pants. Everything he listed is just so Mark that you’re left in disbelief.

“Uuh… that sounds about right.”

“His father hit it big in 2016 with a tech company, their net worth has too many zeros to count,” Taeyong explains, seeing how surprised you were over the fact that he lived a lavish life like this. Not that he doesn’t deserve it! Mark is such a sweetheart, so of course, you would only want the best for him but as if half the world wasn’t enough, now you have another huge gap between you.

“Gosh, I really can’t believe this. How am I supposed to just ring the bell and say hello after so much time?” you sighed with your head in your hands. “Argh, I need to buy some clothes and change.”

Taeyong approves the idea based on how enthusiastically he hollers, you wonder why nobody on the street seems to pay no attention to him. Maybe only you see him, just more reason for you to be crazy.

“Good idea because we’re having dinner with Mark!”

“What?” you look up in shock, not following through. Taeyong grins down at you, flashing a giddy smile and with a twirl he’s changed from his baggy, casual clothes to something more chic but still laidback.

“Your wish was him meeting me, so I arranged everything. I can't meet him without you and the teapot there, you know,” he explains as if it was supposed to be obvious. You aren't ready yet though.

“You just want to eat all the fancy delicious food he has,” you squint at him suspiciously and the dragon stays silent, so you must be right. He laughs nervously.

“Maybe, but can you blame me? I haven’t had a feast since a literal decade!” he hollers and somehow you really cannot find it in yourself to be angry at him. You are in Seoul for god's sake after all and magic is real, you can put up with the inconvenience of buying clothes and making yourself look decent before dumping all this surprise on Mark.

An hour later you stand in front of the gates of the Lee mansion and nervously you wipe your sweating hands into your dress. You can totally do this, you just say hi to an old friend, it's not like you're afraid he wouldn't remember you, hah, of course not–

"Y/N!"

You whip your head at the call of your name to the source of that all too familiar voice. Sure it's deeper than you remember but there's no mistake in whose it is. Plus, who else would call your name in South Korea of all places.

"Mark, hey!" you wave the boy who just got out of one of the fanciest cars you've ever seen in your life. And yet, despite the Prada suit and expensive shoes, styled hair and Swiss watch on wrist, Mark Lee still has that goofy little smile and the doe eyes that used to make you weak in the knees. Hah, who are you kidding? They still do.

"Oh my god, dude, you… you got pretty," Mark jogs up to you and having no filter like always he blabbers immediately only to stutter as his ears turn red. It was so him talking before thinking, so you didn’t really mean to dwell on his words. Although you felt your cheeks dusted with pink soon enough. "I mean, it's really good to see you! I was so surprised to see your name in my calendar for today's dinner! You should have told me you were coming to Korea, I would have picked you up at the airport."

His calendar? Ah, of course, he must have been busy and all that. You wouldn’t have been surprised to see an assistant run after him at this point, so you wonder how your wish dragon magically put you onto his list of important people to meet. Gosh, it was so weird.

"Ah, I have a funny story about that…" you chuckled to yourself but before you could have get out anything, even a please, can we go to a more private place? Mark’s eyes zero on the guy next to you and his eyes grow comically wide.

"And uhm, who is your friend?" he points at Taeyong who waves him in exchange with a kilowatt smile. He looks back at you with his mouth agapé. "Oh my god, you came to invite me to your wedding?"

He says oh my god way too many times for an eloquent rich kid, he really is the Mark Lee you knew.

"No, never! I mean, of course, I would invite you but Taeyong and I– I literally met him on my way here," you explain hastily cursing yourself for the silly lie. You came to tell him the news not to try to make it believable.

“I heard there’s food,” the wish dragon pipes in very helpful and you shoot him a disapproving glance he doesn’t notice. Luckily, Mark doesn’t seem to mind.

“Oh, yeah, of course, dinner! Come on in, let’s get you two settled,” he grins albeit a bit awkwardly as he leads you through the gate after opening it with his card.

On the way through the very, very, very big garden, he’s chattering about how he misses the Vancouver weather, especially on humid, hot days like this and talks about how he thinks the fountain in their yard is a bit too much but his mom loved it and then before you know it, you sit by a huge dining table with fine food in front of you. Suddenly you can’t decide whether you're grateful for Taeyong’s shameless presence – he digs into the jjigae right away – because at least the situation isn’t awkward because of your silence or you’re annoyed by it because you must seem like a weirdo because of him. That’s why you decide to rip off the bandage and tell Mark as soon as the last maid has disappeared too.

“Okay, so actually I came here because I have a surprise,” you speak up, probably too serious because the boy almost chokes on his food due to how fast he turns his head towards you.

“More surprise?” he coughs out and you offer him a glass of water which he takes with a smile.

“You literally won’t believe this one!” you assure him and wait until he gulps down the drink. Only then you point to Taeyong and tell him that your childhood wish has come true.

Mark almost falls off his chair this time.

Not after you tell him that though. He laughs at that with that wheezing laugh of his as if you told the joke of the century then pats you on the shoulder murmuring That was a good one, bro and turning back to his food. But then you look at the magic dragon pointedly and Taeyong puts down his chopsticks with an exaggerated sign. Then he flexes his magic: turning into his dragon form among additional sparkles and Mark suddenly looks like he’s about to faint. He reaches out to tap on your shoulder while not taking his eyes off the wish dragon.

“Am I dreaming?” he whispers and honestly, you totally get his reaction while Taeyong mumbles something about ‘people these days not believing in dragons’ as he shows off all the things he could do: gift riches, make one stronger than they are, giving skills of whatever one wants. He starts rambling about how this one Chinese emperor became wealthy thanks to this, how that one actor in martial arts and all this before changing back to his human form and he continues eating his pasta like nothing ever happened.

“I can do this all day,” he shrugs as if he didn’t just perform the coolest magic tricks.

“This… this is the best thing ever!” Mark exclaims with those sparkles in his eyes you missed so much. He was always so excited about new things and it automatically makes you smile how he bombards Taeyong with million questions like: ‘So you are the wish dragon that grants wishes?’ or asking him about his scales, his unique color, how it feels to live in such a small teapot, how old he is and the dragon glows under all the attention. Can’t blame him but Mark has always been so curious about the world, it’s endearing.

“So your first wish was to meet me?” he turns to you after long minutes of interrogating Taeyong and suddenly, under the spotlight you don’t know what to do with yourself. You can feel yourself blushing because you didn’t necessarily mean to wish for that but it’s not like you’re regretting it, it’s just… you don’t want him to misunderstand.

“I thought you should meet him, too, after all the package was delivered for the two of us,” you look down, trying to sound nonchalant while picking your food, avoiding Mark’s gaze. No matter how open armed he welcomed you, you still aren’t convinced that it’s okay to be here because the more time you spend with him, the more you would like to stay a part of his life. “It’s just… I wasn’t really sure we could ever meet again. We didn’t keep contact after you left.”

With dropped shoulders, you try not to sound too downhearted because of what happened because you know all too well, it wasn’t his fault, it was a family decision and look at him, it did good for him! He seems happy, they live in a practically mansion but most importantly, he didn’t seem to change with the wealth. He might wear expensive clothes but under it all he’s still the boy with the most loveable smile.

“I… I was thinking about you a lot, I just thought you forgot about me,” Mark admits with a sheepish smile, tucking his hair behind his ear shyly. He really still is the same and it’s playing silly little games with your heart. If this was a cheesy Disney movie, a slow bgm would start to play as you look into each other but your moment is broken when Taeyong accidentally kicks into his chair as he stands up. At first he looks alarmed but then giggles.

“I will just… go. Don’t mind me,” he disappears like smoke with a wink, leaving you two alone at which Mark lets out a woah. You chuckle at his cute reaction, heart doing somersaults in your chest.

You thought it would be awkward, just the two of you alone after long years but Mark has this thing that he makes people feel comfortable around him, so it’s actually quite nice. You catch up on everything and anything that comes to your mind: old neighbours, studies, friends, what are you doing now and what would you like to do, too.

After finishing the delicious dinner, Mark offers a home tour which you would never refuse and you jaw drops at the huge crystal chandelier in their living room as well as their swimming pool but your favourite place in the whole mansion is Mark’s room because it’s just so him. You can’t describe it well but the moment you step inside, it feels like home. It’s cozy to the point it makes you want to cuddle a pillow. It has colours of pastels, a synthesizer here, a guitar there, posters of singers framed on his wall and vinyl records hanging down. His window has a view of sunset and Namsan above their green garden and although you haven’t been in Seoul before, you’re pretty sure it’s your favourite place in the whole damn city, too.

“Wait, there’s someone I would like you to meet,” Mark suddenly exclaims while you’re looking through his pictures and he pulls you out of his room, out of the house, into the garden: You giggle all the way as he’s being so secretive about it but then your steps halt unexpectedly and the hand you have in Mark’s yanks him back.

“Mark… why is there a tiger in your garden in the middle of Seoul?” you ask as quietly and as immobile as you can. You don’t want to attract the sleeping animal’s attention to yourself. But to your biggest surprise, the boy just laughs, his thumb caressing your skin soothingly.

“She’s Jasmine and she won’t hurt you,” he reassures you but needless to say, you’re not too calm and you’re pulled close to the wild animal that lifts its huge head towards you lazily. “She was abandoned by her mother as a cub and she was outcast in the zoo because she’s a bit sick, so she has always been weaker than her siblings. Dad made a donation and we have raised her since she was young.”

You hiss when Mark reaches out without fear but the tiger basically purrs as he strokes down his fur at the neck. You watch in awe as this big wild animal becomes a soft cat under the hands of Mark Lee. When the boy encourages you to pat her too, you hesitate but he promises you that it’s gonna be alright and you take a leap of faith.

“What’s her sickness?” you wonder aloud as your fingers get lost in the soft fur of the tiger. You hope she’s not in a lot of pain.

“It’s an immune system thing, not sure what exactly but she wouldn’t have survived this long in the wild,” the boy tells you and his mouth curls up in a smile when Jasmine licks your hand. It seems like you’re tiger-approved. You look into its warm brown eyes and your heart churns at the thought of her condition.

Mark tells you stories of Jasmine, about that one time she crashed his birthday cake or how much she likes to swim with him in their pool during summer and gosh, you could listen to him go on and on forever. You’re only reminded of the reality, that all this is just a possible one-time thing, a weekend getaway with magic when Taeyong shows up in swimwear, ready to crash in said pool.

“I guess he might have been bored in that teapot,” Mark laughs, not minding at all. He even offers you to join but you have a better idea.

“Taeyong, I have my second wish!” you call out for the wish dragon who’s suddenly much more excited about that than the water. He’s beside you in a moment, beaming and curious. You glance at Mark with a soft smile before looking at your personal genie confidently.

“I wish Jasmine would be healthy,” you whisper, playing with the tiger’s furry ears which she seems to enjoy. You were a little bit afraid the dragon would say it’s not possible, that he can’t cure sickness but to your relief, he just grins.

“Your wish, my command,” he nods and puts a hand over the animal. Nothing but a smoke of purple signals the magic being done but you believe in it and so does Mark by the looks of it. He reaches out for your hand and squeezes it gently.

“Thank you,” he smiles and you smile back. He used to be your best friend after all, it’s the least you can do for him.

Mark convinces you to stay the weekend and there’s no way you could tell no to him, not when he clears his schedule just for you. He never complains about how busy he must be working for his father’s business while being a music major at a local university. All he ever talks about is the places he wishes to show you and he takes you around Seoul as if he was your certificated tour guide. It’s lovely how enthusiastic he is about it while what really matters to you is the time you spend together. He makes sure you two take a million photos to remember by, Taeyong posing on half of them since he joins you on your little trips and sometimes it’s just the two of you watching the wish dragon being genuinely in awe by modern technology, 10 years is a long time after all.

On the last day before you have to go back to Vancouver (thanks to Taeyong’s kind offer to take you the same way you came back since he misunderstood you, you don’t have to sit through a 10+ hours flight and you have more time), Mark not only tries to make you breakfast despite having an in-house chef (his eggs are ugly as heck but you appreciate his efforts and can’t help but coo at his dreamy smile under that grey hoodie when you tell him it tastes yummy) but he also introduces you to his friends in Korea. Of course, they tease you (mostly Mark) about where he has been hiding you but it’s all chill and fun you’re not quite ready to say goodbye. But you should go because the more you stay, the more you don’t want to leave. You’re lucky enough for this chance to reunite with Mark but all good things end eventually.

“Let’s not disappear from each other’s life again, okay?” the boy grins at you as you’re ready to go, Taeyong already working on his magic.

“Yeah, let’s not,” you agree easily, looking forward to your video chatting and constant texting even if it’s from the two opposite ends of the Earth with a terrible time zone difference.

You glance at the wish dragon who’s drumming with his fingers while pursing his lips as if he was waiting for something and you let out a huff before working up the courage to actually do something about these feelings inside of you. You might have regretted not confessing in middle school, you have spent years wondering about the what ifs, so you don’t want to make the same mistake twice but still, you want to give Mark a chance to ignore it all if he wants to. So you step forward and wrap your hands around him as you hug him close. It’s obvious that your action takes him aback, he suddenly doesn’t know what to do with his hands and his body tenses under you but it all melts as you say those words that have been threatening to fall from your lips all this time:

“I have missed you.” you confess, honest and based on the hitch in his breathing, Mark must be surprised. You can’t blame him though, you just wanted him to know. You step back with a weary smile, his big Bambi eyes on you but before he could say anything you nod at Taeyong and you feel yourself falling, purple fog pulling you in. A few moments later you’re back in Vancouver, in your apartment, without him.

The first few days pass in a blurr, you can still barely believe what just happened. Your weekend with Mark feels like a too good dream but Mark kept his side of promise and texted you almost immediately as you left. He sends you selfies, songs that remind him of you and you talk about your days like you never did before. Still, it feels like you’re dancing around certain topics which are basically the elephant in the room and maybe that’s why Taeyong tries to cheer you up in his own way. Though, he soon realizes that you not being happy isn’t the problem, you are happy, you just… miss Mark more than you ever did.

“Enough of moping, you still have a wish left!” Taeyong exclaims, throwing himself onto your bed. “Come on, close your eyes, imagine what you want the most in the world and make a wish!" he singsongs. However, before you could even just indulge him, your phone pings with a new notification.

fullsun00 tagged you in their post!

You click on it right away, wondering what Mark’s friend Donghyuck is doing online at 1AM. The uploaded post turns out to be a photo of you and Mark when you all hang out near Han river. You were too busy at the time laughing at how the boy almost lost his whole scoop of ice cream before he could have had a single bite to notice his smile while looking at you. Based on his caption Donghyuck apparently wasn’t.

fullsun00: just old friends, they say. friends my ass @buttercupyn @onyourm__ark

You click your tongue wondering what Mark thinks of the callout but you press like on the post anyways. You put your phone aside before you could see how his other friends join the teasing in the comment section.

“Actually, I do have my third wish,” you speak up as you turn to Taeyong before he could make a remark on your tinted cheeks.

You’ve been thinking a lot about it during the past days. You could wish for anything but you’re at a point of your life where no riches or fame would make you happier because you’re happy enough just the way it is. It might not be perfect but you don’t want to be selfish and you want to make decisions you won’t regret: like catching up with Mark, curing his tiger and bringing happiness into the life of somebody who only ever served other people in his life.

“Ooh, what is it?” Taeyong claps, giddy as if he was waiting for this to happen. He probably did.

“I wish you would go on a vacation and enjoy life,” you tell him but unlike his usual reaction, this time the dragon’s smile fades and he blinks at you, confused.

“You could ask for anything in the world and that’s what you want? Are you sure?” he furrows his brows, not quite believing your words but you just smile, knowingly.

“Yes, Taeyong, I’m sure.”

“Your wish, my command,” he bows with his hands put together and with a twirl suddenly he’s in a Hawaiian shirt and sunglasses, looking as ready for a holiday as one can be. You chuckle and tell him to just go, you’ll be fine.

You’re fine, you really are. Life goes on, you study and work, you laugh with your friends, you video call with Mark regularly and his friends are regulars on your social media, too. It’s just sometimes the feeling of missing something hits you harder than other days. Especially when you’re looking through the pictures you have from your Seoul weekend.

“I wish you were here,” you whisper ahead of you at one particularly good photo of Mark and the sunset, smiling at you behind the camera. You miss his smile, the cute wrinkles around his eyes when he crunches his nose, the sound of his laughter, his hand on your wrist… you miss him.

Ding-dong.

You stand up startled at the sound of your flat’s bell, running to the door to open it even though you have no idea who it could be so early on a Saturday morning. Not having a better idea, you expect it to be either a neighbour of your landlord but on the other side of your doorstep stands a boy who you thought was a continent away. He’s dressed semi-casually this time, his shirt tucked in his jeans, hair lightly falling onto his forehead and a nervous smile on his thin lips.

“Mark! But I⎼ I don’t even have more wishes,” you blink, taken aback, looking around to look for Taeyong in case he came back. But your behaviour just manages to confuse Mark instead.

“What?”

“I just wished you were here,” you blurt out without thinking, your words only processing later in your brain and it’s then when heat creeps onto your cheeks. Mark tries to but can’t really hide his growing smile at that.

“Really? I’m glad then. I just took my new private plane on a test drive,” he says bashfully, a silly excuse for real.

“All the way to Vancouver?” you tease, watching Mark fumble with the hem of his shirt. Your heart beats overtime just because of the fact that he’s there.

“Well, what can I say? I did miss the weather here,” he plays along with a shrug but he’s more serious when he looks deep into your eye and adds: “And you left without letting me answer.”

Oh yes, you did. You were kind of afraid of his reaction but seeing how he was ready to travel across the world just to see you, maybe there’s no reason for you to be so afraid. It feels like deja vu but a reversed one in a way as Mark gently pulls you into a hug, his lips grazing your hair with a whisper that makes your heart skip a beat: “I have missed you too.”

You really wouldn’t wish for anything more.

#nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct x reader #mark lee x reader #mark lee x you #stories

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unmaskedagain · 4 years

Text

Remember You Young

I answered this ask because I thought it was adorable. I loved the show they wanted me to do, and I want to see who could guess it before it became obvious. Its a one-shot .

She was being followed. At first it had been daunting when she realized it, and Marinette had done everything she could to shake them off her trail. Then she realized she was being stalked by kids. Literally kids. None older than ten or eleven at best.

They had been terrible at hiding, rarely ever whispered, argued constantly, had the most outrageous costumes but somehow managed to keep up with Marinette’s every move... most of the time. They ran around with toy guns and pretend walky talkies.

It either said the best thing about the kids’ skills, or the worst thing about Marinette’s.

There was a husky boy who ran around in a blue shirt and goggles. He never took off the old pilot’s hat he wore. He was also… always eating cheese. Or candy. He liked puns that caused his friends to groan constantly.

There was an Asian little girl who wore an adorable green sweater that was too big for her and the arms of the sweater went well past her hands. She was girly and seemed to be the sweetest of the bunch. Honestly, she was the happiest girl Marinette had ever seen in her entire life. The only time the kid had gotten upset was when she had cried when couldn’t find the stuffed animal she wanted in any of the stores. Marinette had been heartbroken for her. The bluenette didn’t know what a “Rainbow Monkey” was or why it had to be French but she was going to get it for the girl if it was the last thing she did it.

A bald British boy seemed to be the leader as everyone took direction from him. Marinette had never seen his eyes due to the black glasses he wore. The kid seemed to believe himself to be some sort of superspy. He had a fierce take-charge attitude and barked orders like a pro and preferred to a treehouse their hung out at as headquarters. He didn’t smile often.

A pretty black girl seemed to be the one with the most sense of the much, and the most style. She wore her hair in a long braid, a blue shirt-dress and an old red cap. The girl had a natural charisma and coolness to her that made Marinette feel awkward in comparison. She seemed to second-in-command .

The smallest of the bunch was a blond boy with an unfortunate bowl cut and a bright orange hoody. He was loud, brash, and was the “tough guy” of the bunch. He picked a fight with nearly everyone. A fierce little guy that called Marinette a “Ruddy Teenager.”

However all the kids seemed to dislike adults and teens to some degree. They cast suspicious glances at everyone thirteen and older no matter how nice they were. None of them ever called each other by their names, always opting to follow the rules of whatever game they were playing and called each other by numbers. And always mispronounced the word: number.

Numbuh 1. Numbuh 2. Numbuh 3. Numbuh 4. Numbuh 5. Marinette hadn’t gotten close enough to figure out who was who but she did suspect the numbers were ranking order or anything. They were probably just random.

After over two weeks of being stalked, Marinette still hadn’t been able to figure out what they wanted from her. Only that they didn’t know she was Ladybug. It was frustrating.

She finally got answers one day while walking home from school when she got attacked by an evil cat lady who weaponized her pets, a deranged dentist who put braces on everyone, and a man dressed like toilet. They attempted to kidnap Marinette and raise all out heck on everyone around them. They weren’t Akumas. They were just crazy people.

The kids fought them back. They saved the day. They saved Marinette. The villains ran with their tails between their legs.

…Suddenly everything the kids had been doing didn’t seem like a game anymore.

…Then the kids kidnapped Marinette. The kids jumped her, hogtied her, gagged her, and carried her back to their tree house… which Marinette now realized was way more advanced than any tree house should be. EVER.

As soon as they got to there, and Marinette was uncharitably tossed on to the couch, the kids panicked.

“We shouldn’tve done this!” Goggles boy chimed. “We weren’t supposed to make contact. Moonbase will decommission us for sure.”

“And let the adults have her, Numbah 2,” The bald boy said. “I think not! We can never let the adults win. Its against everything the Kids Next Door stand for.”

The black girl nodded, “Numbah One’s right, we can’t let Father have what’s in her brain,” She said. “It could destroy the KND!”

“But that’s not possible, Numbah five, we all know that!” The girl in green said. “She got decommissioned. Her brain got all wishy-washy. Right, Numbah Four?”

The blond boy huffed, “Yeah! Numbah Three’s got a point. And what’s so important about some ruddy teenager anyway? Tell you what! We should drop her artic ocean and never look back.”

Numbah five groaned, “Are you stupid, boy? They sent Numbuh 274, I mean Chad, after her. And CREE! They wouldn’t have done that if she wasn’t important. The supreme leader wouldn’tve sent us to stop them from getting her! Ya moron.”

Marinette frowned at that. Chad, the handsome foreign exchange student that came to Marinette’s class a few weeks ago. All the girls in school thought he was so dreamy. Even Marinette, even though she had been perplexed at the sad, almost wistful looks he would shoot her when he thought he wasn’t looking. And at the stories he told about his childhood, and woud look at Marinette like he was waiting for her to jump in and finish them. Almost like he knew her. Or expected her to suddenly remember him.

The same with Cree, a foreign exchange student in a grade above Marinette’s, but to a lesser extent than Chad. The older girl liked to make sly remarks about what being a teen meant where she came from. She cracked what seemed to be inside jokes at Marinette and looked crestfallen when it was clear the bluenette didn’t understand what she meant. Then Cree would grumble about stupid kids ruining everything.

“But WHHHHYYY?” Numbah Four whined. “We got sent a like bajillion miles away to a city where they force kids to eat bugs and smelly cheese all to protect a teenager. A TEENAGER! And they don’t even tell us why.”

Numbah Two frowned, “It is kind of strange. I mean we hate teenagers! They’re the worse. Why save this one?” He looked at Marinette like she was specimen in a jar.

“Because team,” Numbah One announced loudly, pausing for, what Marinette knew was, dramatic effect. “She is Numbah Seventy-Two.”

Gasps rang through the room. The kids reared back as if struck. Their eyes went wide and they started at Marinette in awe.

“…Or at least she used to be,” Numbah One added.

“Woah,” Numbah Four said, looking at Marinette with newfound respect.

Numbah Two sqeauled, “This is the best day ever. You have to sign my Yipper card.” He told Marinette. “It’s an ultra-rare collectable. Only three still exists. The rest were destroyed.”

“But, but, but how?” Numbah Five asked, removing her hat. “All records of Numbah Seventy-Two was struck from the history of the KND. Only the supreme leader and her team ever knew what happened to her.”

“They pinky-swore not to tell anyone what happened!” Numbah Three added. “No one would ever break a pinky promise.”

“That’s true,” Numbah five nodded. “No kid ever would. Expecially not her team. She saved us. She saved the KND. She saved the world and made it better for kids everywhere.”

Numbah One nodded. “Exactly. No kid would ever break the solemn oath. But do you remember just who was one her team?”

Looks of realization appeared on the kids’ faces, and then anger.

“Numbah Two Hundred and Seventy-Four,” Numbah Five said bitterly. “He was Number Seventy-Two’s second in command for years. And He betrayed her. Why am I not surprised?”

“But why?” Numbah Two asked. “I mean if she was still Numbah Seventy-Two I’d understand. She stopped Principle Boutface from ending summer vacation forever. She stopped Father from making Halloween adults only forever and ever. Name a bad guy, and I can guarantee she kicked their butts! And most importantly she even beat…” Numbah Two paused, clearly afraid. “well you know. She’s done loads of cool things. But She can’t remember anything. So why? Why come get her now?”

“She beat who?” Numbah Four asked. “I don’t know. Who’d she else did she beat? Why were they so important?”

Numbah One and Five looked away. Both remembered but neither wanted to say anything.

“We were still just little babies when it happened,” Numbah Three answered seriously. “Still finishing training. We never really knew what was going on. Too little for anyone to tell us. We just knew it was bad. Kids were always scared, always hurting…”

“It was a dark time,” Numbah One agreed. “Before Father took over, there was another in charge of the evil adults in the world. But he worse than Father could’ve ever dreamed of being. Kids were scared to go to sleep. They were afraid of their closets and what was under their beds. OF every shadow. No kid would be caught out after dark. They were too scared. Nowhere was safe. No one was safe. Not from him. Not from…”

“The Boogieguy,” Numbah Five finished. “The most powerful leader the adults ever had. The strongest, most evil villain you can imagine. But Numbah Seventy-Two refused to back down. She was the only who could stand up to him. The only one to ever beat him.”

Numbah Two nodded, “Legend says the Boogieguy had a nasty plan to open a portal to unleash meanest, nastiest monsters another world to get kids to behave better. But Numbah Seventy-Two heard and went to beat him once and for all. And she did too. She trapped him in his own trap. He’s been there ever since!”

Numbah Three added, “Numbah Seventy-Two finally defeated the Boogieguy, she locked him away in a place so scary, so terrifying not even the adults would be willing to go near it. Which it means it has to be really, really, REALLY, scary. Only she knew how to get him out. She used a super-secret password that only she knew. And then, and then she, she!” Numbah Three burst into tears.

Numbah One placed a hand on her shoulder to calm her down, “To stop the Boogieguy for good, and to make sure no kid ever had to suffer his wrath again, she decommissioned herself. She was only eleven.”

“It was a hard sacrifice, but one kids everywhere will never forget,” Numbah One vowed. “And the Global KND didn’t let it be in vain. We fought back harder than ever before. Her team-”

“But, but,” Numbah Four look around, “She wasn’t even a teenager, why’d she go and do a stupid thing like that for?”

“To save us,” Numbah Five answered, and put her hat back on. She looked at Marinette with hard eyes. “To save the KND, and protect kids everywhere. Because of her, the KND finally turned the tables on adults. We weren’t scared of the dark anymore.”

“Was never the same!” Numbah Five snapped at him. “None of them were ever the same after fighting Boogieguy, after what happened to Numbah Seventy-Two. They couldn’t handle being around each other anymore. They are transferred to different teams. Their entire sector was retired. Number Three Hundred and Sixty-Two. Numbuh Sixty. My sister- Cree! Numbah Two Hundred and Seventy-Four, UGH! Look what they became. Ya don’t need to be decommissioned to not recognize them anymore.”

It went quiet. The kids not knowing what to say. Marinette had never been so confused in her life. Had she been some sort of Spy kid? Had her memories been erased? What was going on?

And if everything, the kids were saying was real, and Marinette decided that it was, then she was a little peeved at Chad and Cree, her old teammates apparently, for going against everything this KND had accomplished… That Marinette had apparently sacrificed herself for. And what for? To side with some evil adults?

“…The KND have figured out a way to destroy Boogieguy forever,” Numbah one said. “Unfortunately the adults have also become aware of the Boogieguy’s location and want release him. In order for either side to succeed in their mission, we need Numbah Seventy-Two.”

All eyes turned back to Marinette.

Numbah Five cast a sad look at Numbah Seventy-Two, Marinette, “Chad and Cree will come for her.” Of that Numbah five was certain. The lone picture of ABC that sat next to Cree’s bedside nightstand was proof enough of that. It was the only thing her big sister ever kept of her KND days, apart from her memories. The only “little kid” thing she didn’t scorn. “They won’t stop until they get her. I don’t think Cree or Chad ever forgave the KND agreeing that Numbah Seventy-Two should erase her memories.”

They never forgave themselves for letting her, Abby didn’t add.

“She was decommissioned, hello!” Numbah Two reminded them. “She can’t remember anything.”

Number One took off his glasses and looked at the teenager who, in another life, had been everything he ever dreamed of being in the KND. She was a legend. A hero. She had, once, been the best of them all. “She will.”

#marinette dupain cheng #ml fic #codename knd

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