#it’s fun to try and strike that balance or choose to go full one or the other

[zarvasace]

All of those plus a Hyrule :) pleased with this little style experimentation! I’ve come quite far since last year’s mermay, I think. I see those Shatterproof suggestions and am currently debating how on earth to draw some of that, ha.

#my art #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu legend #lu wild #lu sky #lu four #lu Hyrule #lu #mermay #mermay 2024 #mermaids are fun to draw #speculative biology stuff is fun #and so is assigning real fish #buttttt I just go for it #I prefer that #the shorter tails really sell the powerful feeling #but the longer ones feel more elegant #it’s fun to try and strike that balance or choose to go full one or the other

[nadiahshaven]

𝘸𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯．

𖦹 summary: you and connie at a party, and he gotta correct your smart mouth.

𖦹 content: connie x f!reader. reader is black-coded. mention of connie being a drug dealer. pieck is a fruit feen. choking. slight nsfw mention. connie fine ass got a thumb ring. cant think of nothing else.

𖦹 word count: 851.

authors note: this was jus sumn i wrote up quick asf bc i wanna update real bad LOL. lmk if yall want an extended smut ver. enjoy!

—

—

you knew connie, and you knew he wasn’t the type to let up on you when you acted out. whether it was because you couldn’t watch your mouth, or because you simply forgot who you were dealing with, your dope boy was there to reel you back in every time.

“watch that mouth, ma.”

“keep fuckin’ playin wit’ me, (y/n), and i’ma give ya’ ass exactly what’chu lookin’ fa’.”

never was this more apparent than the night you had the audacity to try and push your luck in front of your best friend.

you and connie got invited to a kickback at his best friend, ony’s house. ony was the easygoing, fun kind of dude that perfectly balanced out connie’s sort of reserved personality. any time connie was out, you knew he was with ony. any time there was a party of any kind, you knew ony was hosting.

the two of you walked into the loud party, scrunching your faces up a bit in unison at the intensity of the bass of future’s ‘march madness’ blasting throughout the house. you kind of expected the volume, due to the fact that you heard the music while you were outside. it didn’t help that everyone was singing the lyrics with their entire chest, either.

pushing through the crowd to get to some sort of rest spot, ony caught you two.

“aye!” he yelled, catching you and connie’s attention.

connie walked you two over, hand on your waist so he wouldn’t lose you, over to the drink table where ony was previously mingling with some other guys.

“you got this shit jumpin’, ony!” you chuckled, voice raised a bit higher over the music.

“it’s what i dooo.” ony shrugged, pearly whites on full display as a smile painted his dark, plump lips. “i’m jus’ that nigga.”

“yea’, yea.” connie intervened. “i can’t wait for the day you throw a jaint and nobody show up fa’ ya’ ass.”

“never gon’ happen.” ony simply said.

before connie could give a very aggressive rebuttal, you peeped your own best friend, pieck, over in the kitchen snacking on fruit that she knew was supposed to go into the punch. you decided it’d be best to leave ony and connie to their madness in favor of making your way over to her, strike up some conversation.

“pieckkk!” you opened your arms, barreling toward her in a hug. due to her scrolling on her phone while eating the fruit, she didn’t notice you were about to tackle her, until you did. she engulfed you back into the same, tight, hug you gave her.

“my heartyy-“ pieck smiled, leaving a quick smack on your plump ass as you two pulled away from the hug, to which you chuckled in response. “bitch, yo’ ass look good as fuck in’nat dress. how connie ain’t act up?”

“girl, i don’t know.” you rolled your eyes. “he choose when to appreciate me.”

pieck snickered, going back to eating the fruit she was almost done with at this point. you and pieck engaged in catching up with each-other. ranging from talking about your relationships, to simply rating people’s fits that you saw around the party.

you didn’t realize how much time passed, and a hand snaked around your waist— which caught you off guard. before you could turn around to flip out, a familiar, silver thumb ring with your initials engraved into it grabbed your eye. it was connie, and by the look in his eye when you turned your head towards him, he was ready to leave.

you ignored it though, given you were in the middle of a conversation with your best friend.

“mami.” connie called you.

“what, connie?” you responded, with a bit more attitude in your voice. he decided to give you this one pass, because he did kind of interrupt you in the middle of a sentence.

“i’m ready to leave.”

“you gon’ have to wait.”

pieck tried to pretend she was minding her business, starting to scroll through nothing on her phone.

“(y/n), i don’t got time for the bullshit. let’s go.” connie put a bit more firmness to his voice. this is where you would usually oblige, but you wanted to see how far you could go in public. he wouldn’t do much in front of all of these people, right?

“like i said,” you mistakenly repeated, with your back still turned to him. “you gon’ have to wai—“

you couldn’t finish your sentence before he grabbed you by your throat from behind you, leaning down to your ear.

“let me have ta’ repeat myself for a third time, and watch how fast i put’cho ass over my shoulder.”

you couldn’t respond, for the simple fact that you knew anything you were gonna say, would not help your case. so, he continued.

“bein’ hardheaded won’t get’chu nowhere except on ya’ knees, ma. now lem’me make sure you hear me loud ‘nd clear when i say this.” his lips were tickling the outside of your ear, making your body hotter than you wanted it to.

“we leavin’.”

—

continuation -> good girl

#connie springer #connie x black y/n #aot x black reader #aot x black y/n #aot x reader #connie springer x black reader #aot onyankopon #aot connie #aot pieck #pieck finger #onyankopon snk #connie x you #Spotify

[septemberrie]

Hiya, you posted a fan fic writer ask earlier so I’m a bit late, but who cares!

Questions 4, 14 and 29 please 😍

Thank you, Dexter!! These are so fun! fic asks

4. How many WIPs do you have right now?

I have 3 that will probably see the light of day. 1 more is a solid "maybe." Then maybe 3-4 more that will likely live forever as a handful of dialogue and nothing more.

14. If you could see one of your fics adapted into a visual medium, such as comic or film, which fan fic would you pick?

Oh man, you are forcing me to choose between my children... I'm going to have to pick Battle Lines because it's got a good balance of intrigue and action and pining. Idk. I've spent a lot of time rereading my stuff over the last few weeks and my storytelling is noticeably improved with that fic. I think it would translate well to the screen.

29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic.

One of my WIPs is a S2 rewrite in which I try to reconcile Saul's... blankness. It's been in progress and unposted since September 17th 2022 in case anyone's counting lol. I wrote out the tribunal but if I ever do post this fic, I'm going to skip this scene and just start with Saul & Sebastian in Blackbridge. Here's a portion of it.

“Saul Silva. You are here for the sentencing of the attempted murder of Andreas of Eraklyon.”

He raised his head, the only action he could do that didn’t cause the humiliating clink of the chains that bound his wrists. “For this action, you’ve been sentenced to—”

“I don’t even get to argue my case?”

Luna sat back, her hollow black eyes glittering with disdain. “State your defense.”

He thumbed the thick chain that bound his wrists together. “It was self-defense.”

Unimpressed, Luna lifted her hand to pick beneath the nail of her index finger. “Self-defense… you mean, when you attempted to prevent Andreas from fulfilling a military action.”

Saul ground his jaw. “We didn’t know it was a military action. Rosalind neglected to tell us Aster Dell was full of Blood Witch extremists. We thought it was full of innocents.”

“So your solution was to simply attempt to murder him?”

“Only because he tried to kill me first!”

“And yet there were no witnesses.”

“There were no witnesses I attempted to kill him, either.”

“We have his testimony as well as Rosalind Hale’s.”

“I have Farah and Ben’s—”

“Benjamin Harvey has claimed the law of self-implication. He will not testify either way. And Farah Dowling has vanished.”

He couldn’t keep looking into her soulless eyes; it hurt too much. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard Farah had vanished. The Ben news was a blow. They had his kids, he knew. But he couldn’t help but wish that Ben had found an alternative solution than standing by and letting the axe fall on Saul.

“I do not deny that I was willing to stop Andreas from carrying out what we thought was a mission to kill bystanders. We operated under that for sixteen years, which you were only too willing to cover up—”

“Strike that from the record,” Luna said sharply. “It’s hearsay.”

Saul would have argued but he knew it was fruitless. This was all a sham, anyway, he knew it as soon as they hauled him from his cell that morning.

“Although I would like the record to note that the accused attempted to blackmail the queen of Solaria.”

He dug his untrimmed nails into his palms. He was starting to understand why Ben had invoked the right against self-incrimination, if she was going to twist everything he said.

#ask games #fate the winx saga

[painsandconfusion]

Bigger Fish

Whumping the Whumpers - Part Twenty One

(tw: electrocution, stabbling, knife, blood, dislocation, unintentional self harm, nosebleed, death mention, murder mention, beating, some seriously sketchy and inadvisable dangerous diy jobs (do as Nate says not as Nate does, kids))

[Previous | Masterlist | Next]

Nate watched as Ethan sauntered to the knives. Since when did this bitch saunter? Level up - he must have been paying attention in class. Not that he really needed to, the guy was a giant. Just standing next to someone made him a threat. Still, he wore the added pomp well.

Nate let his fingers unwind from Elias’ hair enough to ruffle it playfully. “For the record, I don’t blame you for wanting to skip to the blood. I think everyone here appreciates it. No hard feelings.”

He stood, relishing the shiver Elias couldn’t quite cover as Nate trailed his fingertips across his shoulders, heading toward Ethan.

Nate folded his arms, looking over the rack, trying to guess which Ethan would pick. “Aww, are you going for the knives because you know I like them? You’re a sweetheart, thank you.”

Ethan didn’t respond, but his jaw tensed - Nate just knew he was glaring at the wall.

He smirked at that, head tipping to the side to try to crane his neck around. See that grumpy little face of his. “Choose carefully, a knife says a lot about a man.”

Ethan groaned, picking one out - a small one. Sharp. Controlled. Standard switchblade. Metal handle. “They say more to a man.”

Nate’s grin faltered for a moment. “Like what?”

Ethan turned, slowly and deliberately pressing the tip of the blade to the hollow of Nate’s throat. “Like ‘shut the fuck up’.”

And Nate was smirking again. “Funny. Very clever, very nice - but don’t you think you want to use up the good lines on him?” Nate jutted a thumb over his shoulder toward Elias.

Aaaand now the blade pressed in a little closer, not quite enough to break the skin, but enough that Nate could feel each heartbeat press against it. Ethan looked annoyed at best. “You say that like you practice yours in front of the mirror or something.”

“Well only because I’m too damn handsome to stay away from mirrors.”

Those dark eyes bored into him. Trying to tear him apart. Make him flinch. He was hungry, Nate could see it.

But so long as Ethan had bigger fish to fry, Nate was safe.

So he didn’t waver. Didn’t even consider letting the grin drop.

Eventually, the knife slid up his throat and away as Ethan stepped past him toward Elias. Time to fry the Bigger Fish, he guessed. Nate allowed him the slightest touch of control, tipping his head back to avoid the blade’s bite as it flicked past his chin. Keep Ethan happy. Very fun, but becoming a full time job. The balance was hard to strike - even harder to maintain. 

But still.

Fun.

He turned, eyes following Ethan to see what he’d do. Nate started pacing - feet refusing to hold still as he was left on the sidelines to watch as Elias started to tremble. He shoved his hands in his pockets, refusing to fidget.

Why did Ethan get to have all the fun? Nate’s workshop. Nate’s knife. Nate’s plan. Grrrr.

He forced his steps slower, prowling around the kneeling man as Ethan crouched in front of him. Nate’s eyebrows furrowed as Ethan plunged the knife into Elias’ leg. Elias didn’t quite scream. More a grunting wail, really. But. Close enough. They’d loosen up those vocal chords in no time. Seeing him convulse around and away from the knife was good enough for now.

The blood started seeping into his jeans. Slow. Dark. Intoxicating.

Then Ethan just…..stood up??? Stepped away??

Nate raised a brow. “Well at least twist it or something.”

Ethan barely threw a scowl over his shoulder as he approached a shelf of tools nearby.

He selected a car battery, dragging it up and off the shelf.

Ah.

A man with a plan, after all.

Nate chuckled as Elias’ breath caught. Then came a little faster.

His hands started twisting against bruised and bloodied wrists, tugging against the cuffs that locked him to the ground. 

Nate stepped closer behind him, ruffling the man’s hair - scratching away tufts of matted blood. “Aww, don’t like the zappy zappy?”

Elias wrenched his head from Nate’s grip, snarling, “Don’t fucking touch me!”

“Ooooo, scary.” Nate leaned down next to him, lips at his ear. “Do you think you’ll still have that mouth on you after we get you screaming, or will you be too shy?” He feins a pout.

Pain exploded across his cheekbone and nose, blasting back through his sinuses - pressing and burning hard up under his eyes. 

Nate snapped back, stumbling away as thick, hot blood wound down his nose and dripped over his lips. A few oily drops seeped between his fingers as he stared at it - almost disbelieving. 

Elias just…..headbutted him??

Nate huffed out a half-amused snort. “Well that was stupid.”

Ethan apparently finally caught on. He was grinning at Nate - laughing softly. “No no - you look good like that - I personally think you should be bleeding all the time.”

Nate narrowed his eyes at Ethan, flicking the blood in his direction - a few flecks landing on Ethan’s jeans. “Bitch.”

Ethan’s smile didn’t drop as he turned his attention back to the battery, familiarizing himself with the external dimmer’s controls. 

Nate gave up trying to stop the flow in favor of I-don’t-even-fucking-care-anymore and just letting it stream down over his chin. There was blood on his shirt already, anyway. Whatever.

He barely caught a glimpse of Elias’ ducked smirk before sinking a foot in the man’s side.

Elias sputtered, doubling over and coughing, writhing against the handcuffs to try to protect himself better.

He couldn’t.

Nate hit him again - higher this time. He felt the ribs give way under the force of the kick, cracking in place. Elias was wheezing before the third kick ensured they were fully broken.

Elias was on his side again, gasping. Legs curled and tucked up against his chest as unsteady and shallow breaths shuddered in and out of him. Nate ground a foot against his impaled thigh, leaning down over the shivering man - letting the blood drip slowly across his neck. 

“Was that worth it? Did you have fun?”

“I did,” Ethan chirped from behind him. “That’s the most fun I’ve had in years, actually.”

Nate twisted just enough to send a dead-eyed glare in Ethan’s direction. “Do not make me kill you early - I like you.”

Ethan grins up at him - suddenly somehow looking so much younger than before. “You won’t - you’re having fun, too.”

Nate rolled his eyes, twisting his heel a little deeper into the marred flesh, drawing a wheezing whimper from Elias’ throat before he finally pulled back.

He reached over Ethan, grabbing the jumper cables and ramming his own pocketknife further down Elias’ leg - only a little pleased that he missed any major veins and arteries. He would have been just as pleased if they hadn’t missed the important bits.

He barely even stopped to appreciate the strained, panting grunts that followed as he snapped the clamps into place - one on each blade. The weight of the cables pulled and tugged the knives against muscle, twisting free more space for the blood to flow out and drawing little mewling pants from Elias.

Nate figured he was done being tough now, then.

He cranked the dial on the dimmer up to seven.

Ethan raises an eyebrow at him.

Nate shrugged. “Scale of ten. Made it myself, so there’s no numbers. Set that, then switch turns it on.”

Ethan hums, standing with the dimmer and stepping back. “Alright. Ready, Elias?”

Elias twisted - horrified eyes snapping between the two of them. He stammered, drawing up the words. “B-uh - bu-but what if i-t kills m-e?”

Ethan looked to Nate.

Nate looked to Ethan.

Both shrugged.

Ethan flicked the dimmer up to 10 and slapped the switch on - hungry eyes not leaving Elias.

But Nate…..found himself unable to look away from Ethan. 

Ethan didn’t blink as he watched. Nate could have hit him over the head with a baseball bat, and he wasn’t sure Ethan would have flinched. He was fixated. Wholly transfixed and enthralled as Elias’ screams and gagging, panting breaths filled the room. 

Nothing bothered Ethan anymore.

He was so much bigger than before. Stronger. Harder. Hungry as Elias’ arms wrenched from socket. As his blood spilled onto the floor. As he choked on the blood his teeth drew from his tongue. 

Ethan didn’t waver. He just twisted and danced the dimmer dial back and forth, blindly drawing out the best responses without looking away for a moment.

When it finally ended, Elias was limp on the ground. Either dead or unconscious. Muscles still spasming, but that didn’t mean anything. 

Ethan stepped forward, nudging Elias with the toe of his shoe, drawing out no response.

Nate followed, pressing two fingers to his throat. The pulse was sluggish and thick, but still there.

He gave Ethan a single nod.

Ethan shrugged, pulling the hose from its place on the wall.

“Let’s wake him back up, then. I’m not done.”

[Previous | Masterlist | Next]

(tags: @prisonerwhump @whumpawink @mabledonut @heathenwhump @paleassprince @jadeocean46910 @wormwriting @distinctlywhumpthing @whump-cafe @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @azayta @tropes-for-my-md-daydreams @batfacedliar-yetagain @there-will-always-be-blood @siren-of-agony @whumpworld @bandages-andobsessions @deltaxxk @whumpasaurus101 @cryptidhongo @pickywhumpreader @cursedscribbles @thecitythatdoesntsleep @whumpberry-cookie @morning-star-whump @shelfsdesires) (idk why that last one isn't working?)

#electrocution #stabbling #knife #blood #dislocation #unintentional self harm #nosebleed #death mention #murder mention #beating #some seriously sketchy and inadvisable dangerous diy jobs #whumping the whumpers #our merry little murderers #nate and ethan #nate #smirky little shit #ethan #ethan the brooding king #elias #runner-up bitch

[unholyfms]

UNHOLYFMS EVENT 002: ARCANUM NIGHTS

Glass House has invited its favorite angels and demons of Los Angeles' elite to celebrate their 65th anniversary upholding their definition of divinity by being one of the most sought after memberships in the city. They have handpicked residents of the city of angels to be in attendance to ring in another decade adorned with delicately crafted drinks, cuisine, and performances.  However, this isn't just any party. Glass House is known for how difficult it is to get a membership because of how they regard their guests with exits no flashing camera has access to and secret events only members are privy to. Though, a scandal is underway as the new management of the restaurant and club has been selling in-house photos and even selling temporary passes as a way to gain more cash under the table. On July 28th, their anniversary may be their end as well as the reputation of those in attendance as their secrets will be exploited as evidence that even the mighty have dirt under their fingernails, and even they can fall. What hangs in the balance is if they can survive the crash when their reputation takes a strike.

SUMMARY: Glass House is hosting their 65th anniversary celebration by inviting all their members to be in attendance. The restaurant and clubhouse is known for its privacy and difficulty to snag a membership, as its built to ensure security and privacy for all those who are apart of it. However, there's been staff selling secrets and as a way of exposing that just because you're a member you're not better than anyone else, they'll be outing secrets of all guests. The project has been in the works for weeks as soon as the guest list was made. Throughout the night, secrets will be revealed throughout the venue despite not being attached to a particular name. It's up to those in attendance to either ignore it, tear it down, but above all else not let the paranoia ruin their night. 

IC INFORMATION

If your muse would not have a membership with Glass House, feel free to plot them being a plus one with another muse who is a member or an NPC! Most members of Glass House are socialites and those with prominent and prolonged careers in the Hollywood scene such as A-list actors, award-winning musicians, critically acclaimed authors, etc. 

Guests are able to enter the venue without any interruptions from paparazzi's with private entrances.

Attire for the event is semi-formal, such as suits and cocktail dresses. 

The event will take place in-character Friday, July 28th from 9 PM to 2 AM. 

Descriptions of the Glass House Venue are the following: Located in Beverly Hills, the Glass House lounge is hidden behind iron gates covered in wisteria and monstera plants. Ring the bell, present your card, and you may enter without a single interruption of someone trying get a peek. Go up the iron staircase, and this is where the fun begins. You have access to a balcony overseeing a courtyard full of lush plants and a pool with cerulean blue tile. The courtyard is surrounded by three floors you can venture out to whether its the exclusive spa, meditation rooms, or other private lounges that will mostly be open for guests for the event. The stage faces north and the bar can be found across the way.

OOC INFORMATION

The event will take place out of character from Thursday, July 27th at 8 PM EST to Sunday, August 6th at 11 PM EST. Non event threads may continue past the end date, but no new event event threads should be created past the end date.

Participation is mandatory for all muses, so feel free to plot with each other how to be in attendance whether it's a plus-one, working the event to sneak in, or membership to Glass House! 

Please submit three secrets pertaining to your character that would be a possible threat to their reputation by Wednesday, July 26th at 8 PM EST. Admins will choose which to reveal, but your character's name will not be directly connected to it. This is mandatory for the event. 

The manner in which these secrets will be revealed will be posted to the main with three secrets every two days. Some of these secrets will be projected as part of the decor such as faceless photo that seems eerily familiar, text messages printed on napkins accessible to everyone at the venue, conversations featured as overlay on the DJs remix, etc. 

Please post your character's attire for the event and tag it as #unholy.event !

You can post starters pertaining to your muse enjoying themselves at the event and then build upon a secret they find themselves witnessing the reveal of, a direct reveal of their own secret (once it's been posted on the main), or even a self para if you want to go deep into how your character feels!

All characters must remain at the venue the entire event unless stated otherwise in an event update post on the main. 

#unholy.event #oc rp #new rp #hollywood rp #tumblr rp #oc roleplay #rich kids rp #this is definitely taylor swift coded and im not even sorry about it

[bwamp-bwamp]

//Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom based roleplay, starring my LoZ oc, Denalli (afab, they/them) and (whoever you choose to play as) as the main characters! It’s adventure driven, with fighting, bloodshed, injury, battle/defense training, monsters, friendship building, platonic to possibly (not really planning on) romantic love for the other character, maybe no spice, unless the spice is protective driven anger. Just something sweet, fun and, I don’t know, fear inducing for the characters?I’m not currently looking at the game, so I’m not exactly sure if this is an actual area on the map, but it sounds and feels right, so I’m rolling with it! ALSO, MY NORMAL RESPONSES WILL NOT BE THIS LONG!! THIS IS JUST THE STARTER AND I’M TRYING TO SET THE SCENE! YOU DO NOT HAVE TO WRITE AS MUCH AS I DO!! ONE PARAGRAPH IS TOTALLY ALRIGHT!! WRITE HOWEVER MUCH YOU’RE COMFORTABLE WITH!! THANK YOU!!

Starter below

[}<)•~^~•(>{]

It was odd, one second the sun was shining brightly, casting its golden rays all along Hyrule, wind a sweet breeze that gently blew the small patch of flowers just outside of a cave at the base of a mountain. Then the next second, the sky was a frightening dark grey, thunder rolling loudly within the heavy clouds, wind now violently trashing the delicate blooms, the stems on some snapping from the harsh treatment.

It didn’t take long for large raindrops to jet from the sky, following the way of the wind, efficiently pelting Denalli in the face. They were drenched within seconds and blinded by the water sticking to their glasses or drops that avoided the bifocals entirely and went straight into their hazel eyes, making them squint as they sprinted for shelter of some kind. As they run, splashing in puddles as raid began to flood, the long haired brunette immediately changed directions and headed for it. Though it was at the bottom of a mountain, it still was elevated from the curvature of the land so the chances of water entering were low to none.

Once into the mountain, the Hylian shivered as cool weather mingled with the rain soaked into their homemade stealth gear. They’d need to change before they grew sick, but first, they had to scope out the cave for any sign of threat. Setting their travel bag between their long legs on the ground, the archer grabbed their ponytail with nimble fingers and began twisting the long dark strands with the intent to wring water from it. The soft splatters of it hitting the dirt floor would’ve echoed, if not drowned out by the downpour that still roared on just outside. Once most of the water was gone, Denalli combed the twist from the strands, letting it fall naturally in the tie.

Picking the bag full of vegetables from their home village, apples and mushrooms they’ve plucked along their travel, as well as a few changes of clothing, a few pieces of flint and some wood tied together to hang from the bottom of their bag, they returned it to their back, and in turn grabbed their bow, readying it with an arrow before venturing further into their temporary shelter. The path lead down curving towards the right, then splitting into three smaller trails. They looked amongst the trails, looked behind them, then ahead of them once more. Should they carry on further in, or get a fire going near the entrance and get something dry on? It seemed safe so far, might as well take the opportunity to gather their wits.

The young adult backtracked, removing the arrow from the tense string and returning it to the pouch with the others like it. Denalli placed their bag down, then kneeled before it, working to untie the rope and grab a few pieces of wood, retying the rope. They placed the small logs as they saw fit before reaching into the travel bag to pull out flint, then looked around for a rock to strike against it. Leaning over on one knee and trying to stay balanced with the other, they grab a suitable rock before returning to a stable kneel before the wood. It took a few whacks, but soon enough, sparks caught and the wood made a steady fire, smoke bellowing out the entrance, immediately dampened by the storm.

The Hylian quickly changed their clothes, looking for somewhere to hang their wet clothes to dry, but found no solution. They were now dressed in clothes that was once Hateno’s standard fashion a few years ago when the calamity was still an issue in Hyrule castle. Sitting next to the fire, they finally felt warm and could see clearly now that their glasses were also free of water.

It was almost a shame when they got up from their spot.

Grabbing their bow and arrow pouch, they once again trailed down and to the right where the three trails stand. Denalli carefully, silently, made their way through each, keeping to the right. The first led to a big, open area. Glowing things in blue and purple lined the corners where the walls merged into the floor, purple moving on the ground in some spots, and directly in the middle was glowing red. They had encountered each of these glowing things briefly, seeing as they grabbed some brightcaps and brightblooms before kicking the one they left to get it to light up.

Doing this allowed them to see, but only a little, leading them to place another bloom onto the arrowhead and shoot it off into the distance, repeating this until the large space had some glow to it. On the cave walls were… balls? Little blue colored balls that had green growing around the top and red in the center, and sprouted from leaves. What were they again? ‘Bomb flowers?’ Right! They heard other travelers mentioning something by that name that fit this things description.

They’d need to get some, but for now they walked to one of the small areas of water, staying as far from the red glow, the gloom, as much as possible. They wanted to catch some of the glowing cave fish, thought they weren’t exactly sure what it’d do if they consumed it. They looked further around the area, seeing two other entrances than the one the took.

‘Maybe those three trails all lead to here?’

They weren’t positive in their thought, but it was a possibility.

‘The lack of monsters is a bit concerning, though…’

Indeed, it was, but their hazel eyes drifted to some thing possibly scarier than monsters or lack-there-of. They slowly walked to the ring of gloom that opened a hole in the ground, one that, from where they currently stood, seemed bottomless.

They weren’t sure how long they had been staring at it, but they immediately became tense and far more aware of their surroundings than they were a second ago as footsteps echoed off the walls. Denalli quickly turned, readying an arrow on their bow, eyes drifting between the three openings that most likely lead to the entrance of the cave.

#loz rp #oc x oc #oc x cc #nb x nb #nb x g #nb x b #Denalli loz oc

[yoongsisbae]

Handshakes of a Lifetime - Chapter 6

BTS soulmate AU. OT7 x reader / Taehyung x reader focused in this chapter, slight Jungkook x reader and Namjoon x reader

Usually by the time I finish a chapter, I will have a nice chunk of the next chapter done, when I finished chapter 5 I had TWO SENTENCES FOR THIS CHAPTER cries, ugh this was a journey lol but I had fun along the way :). Also, I wanted to shoutout @missseoulite I remember having a really bad day when I saw your sweet comment about being eager for the new chap and just knowing someone cared enough to wish me safety and care about my well being, well it meant a lot to me, so this chapter is dedicated to you my dear!!!! <3

Word count: 10.3k

Warnings: death, mention of a suicide, if you’re like me and don’t like to think about being old this chapter might trigger an existential crisis lol, cheating, men being sexist, angst but also fluffiness, sex with Taehyung, breeding kink, a character calls you and Tae children but you are two very grown adults I just wanted to make that super duper clear.

---

“I want to try, I think it would be worth it, you’ll be worth it.”

‘Why did he have to say that,’ you wince, looking over at the idol. He is beautiful, way out of your league, above you in every way, and he’s looking back at you like his whole world hangs in the balance. How could you reject him now. You groan.

You stand up. You place your palm in front of his face, your fingers splayed out, you can see his wide excited eyes in the gaps between them. You look at him expectantly. Taehyung nods, places his palm to yours, interlocking your fingers together.

Your heart thumps wildly as darkness fills the room. You open your eyes once you hear the familiar voice of your husband call out to you, “No need to fret anymore, my beloved. I’m here now.” Taehyung’s hand covers your old and frail fingers. You lie in your bed, body tired and weathered from all the years you’ve spent on this earth.

Your eyes roam over the room, taking in all the faces of your beautiful children and grandchildren. The pain in your tired joints fades as you focus on the man you’ve only grown to love more in all the years you’ve been together. It’s because of him you’ve lived a fulfilled life full of love. With him by your side you’re ready now.

You look up from your crouched position, the flowers you’ve picked lie fresh and pretty in your basket. You look to the dirt path where a man is running towards you. ‘What is a man doing here of all places?’ you think.

He comes to a stop once he sees you, hands on his knees as he gasps for breath. He looks young and beautiful, though his robes are askew and torn and his face glistens as sweat drips from his chin. You almost decide to ignore him and go back to your duties until you notice the red lines that peak from the uncovered parts of his torso. The cuts look painful. You hesitate, “Do you need some assistance?”

“Don’t mind me, fair maiden,” his breathing is still heavy as he speaks. He looks around, taking in his surroundings. ‘What is he looking for?’ you wonder. You can tell he is trying to hide his panic, but it comes through in his tense movements and jittery eyes.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?”

Four men on horse approach you. You notice they are soldiers by the gold plates that cover their body. You hold the flower basket a little tighter to your chest. The first soldier speaks, “Have you seen a man come through this way?”

“You’re the only men I’ve seen for days.”

You feel their lewd stares on you, your stomach churns from the unwanted attention. One soldier dismounts his horse and stalks closer to you. “A pretty little thing like you wouldn’t dare lie to us?” he questions.

“I swear on goddess Athena.” You stand still and look to the ground as he invades your space. The soldier brings a calloused hand to your chin to make you look at him, his companions snickering at your discomfort.

“For days? You must be lonely, poor sweet thing you are.” The other soldiers dismount and circle you. You try to keep your face neutral from the disgust you feel as their eyes rake over your body.

“It is as I said,” your eyes shift to the marble walls of the temple behind you. “I would not lie in Athena’s name, I am protected by her watch.” You emphasize your last words, keeping your limbs close and suppressing your instincts to fight and draw this encounter out any longer than need be.

The men look over to the temple and begin to move closer to the entrance. You follow after them, dropping your basket and letting the flowers scatter into the dirt in your haste.

“No men shall enter, unless you want to face the wrath of the goddess herself,” you yell from behind them. The men laugh. You find the courage to pull at the leader’s armour to cease his advancing. “You will be cursed if you go in there, sir!”

Taehyung’s eyes go wide as he hides underneath the blanket you’ve covered him in. He removes his hand from the temple’s wall, and brings his knees up and off the floor, trying to touch as little as possible of his surroundings.

The men scoff at your words, the leader shoves you away but does not advance any closer. You’ve taken up enough of their time, and they need to find this criminal before The Queen bestows her own kind of punishment upon them.

“Be careful, girl. There is a dangerous man fleeing prosecution, pray to your Goddess we find him before you do.” You find their warning quite ironic as you watch the leader kick your basket. You assume in an attempt to be intimidating, but in your opinion it makes him look more like a petulant child, your brow ticks in annoyance.

Only when they are completely out of your sight do you let go of the breath you were holding. You run into the temple, crashing into the stranger as he runs out.

“I’m sorry!” He exclaims, his hands grabbing onto you to keep you from falling. Electricity zips through you as you both break away stunned. You rub at your arms to take away your goosebumps. The stranger lowers the hand that clutched at his chest, his wide eyes looking at you in question.

“Is it true? A curse is the last thing I need right now!” he laments. You giggle. The soldiers called this man dangerous?

“The rules say no man is to enter, yes.” His horrified expression makes you laugh even more. “But...they are more like guidelines,” you assure him. “Enough temple priestesses have brought their fair share of men back and nothing too sinister has happened yet, by the gods.”

It does little to lessen his worry. He looks at you skeptically. “I thought Athena’s priestesses were supposed to stay virginal in honor of the goddess’s protection.”

“Oh,” you offer him a smile, “that is her protection. It is perception that protects us.”

You eye the man, his features are sharp, striking; almost intimidating; but his aura is quite soft. “...protects us from men. In this world there are very few true heroes, I’m afraid most only live inside songs.”

He looks at you in understanding. “My apologies, you had to deal with those soldiers alone. I couldn’t do anything to defend you.” He winces at the thought, “For you to have shielded me instead, I thank you.” He offers you a deep bow and you feel butterflies dance in your chest.

“Can I ask as to why you’re running?”

He looks to the direction he came, unable to meet your eyes. “Ahh, well...I am in poor favor with The Queen.”

Your eyes widen, you’ve heard rumors of her beauty even in the remoteness of your area, and even more of her kingdom’s hedonism. The man in front of you is truly beautiful. He could be one of her lovers, you think, he most definitely looks the part. His robes though now disheveled are of expensive fabric and show off his lean body, and the way he holds himself you can’t imagine him to be a common worker. “So, you and The Queen, I see...”

“Oh! It’s not what you think...I’m a mere poet. I sing to The Queen and her Court, but she suddenly wanted more of me than I am willing to offer. I-I rejected her.”

Your eyes widen again. “That was most unwise.”

He smiles, his eyes cast down. “I can bear the weight of my faults. I plan to leave to another province.”

“You’ll rather leave your home? But it is The Queen!”

“As you can see, there is punishment in denying The Queen of her desires.”

You’re astonished. “I can’t imagine being with her to be so horrible you’d choose to run instead, give up all you’ve acquired?”

“I rather give myself to someone for love.”

You feel your heartbeat quicken at his words, ‘so idealistic.’ You’ve never encountered an individual with such delicate presence, a trait you find most unconventional. A smile pulls at one of the corners of your mouth, “Aphrodite must favor you.”

Taehyung laughs, his eyes softening, “Thank you again, someone must favor me to put you in my path.” His warm dark eyes hold your gaze. “I mustn’t stay too long…”

“Yes, of course! Well then…” You falter in your farewell. He struggles with the decision to leave. Taehyung knows he must, The Queen’s soldiers could come riding through again at any moment, and he doesn’t want to think of the punishment they would bestow upon you if they learned of your lies, so why can’t he seem to let go of your company?

He notices the trampled flowers littered on the ground around you, the colorful petals lay beautiful and ruined, a fate he worries will become yours if he doesn’t make haste. He picks up an unbroken blossom. “Thank you again.” He places the flower in your palms, a warmth spreads over you through your fingertips as you hold your breath in reverence. His thumbs stroke your fingers gently, and then he nods at you one last time and moves to run again. You feel a pressure building in your throat, unready to bid him farewell, and you don’t understand why this man whom you’ve just met is affecting you so. His kindness and his gentleness makes your body yearn to learn more. What can you do, he’s a stranger and not yours to keep, you must let him go.

His flower stays cradled in your hands, you feel your chest tighten more and more with each step he takes that brings another stretch of distance between your bodies. Your limbs itch to move. What should you do? It is what you want to do that makes you so afraid. You silently ask Athena for guidance. It is only when he turns past the treeline and out of sight that you can’t take it any longer.

You run into the temple. You race to your small quarters, and gather anything you deem valuable, not very much. Pushing down the thoughts that tell you you’re acting crazed and without reason, you fasten your belongings to your body. You race out of the temple's entrance and crash once again into a body that jolts your nerve endings with an undeniable energy. You stare into his eyes once more, the man you saved. He looks down at you, eyes wide with surprise but full of mirth.

A horse carries you and Taehyung farther North. You travel in comfortable silence, as your hands rest snugly around his waist. After riding with him for so long, you are no longer shy to hold him, accustomed to being pressed up against his back. You listen to the steady rhythm of horse hooves against the earth. It is peaceful and you find yourself smiling against Taehyung’s back.

The bright lush green landscape turns dark and threatening as the two of you ride past an abandoned village. The wooden wreckage smolders still. You gasp at the sight, so many homes lost. Taehyung taps the horse’s body with his foot to quicken its step.

“Stop!” You yell at Taehyung once you notice a shift amongst the rubble. You jump off before he properly stops his stead, running towards the wreckage to confirm what you thought you had witnessed.

Taehyung runs after you, warning you to be careful. Once you reposition a large plank of wood, you gasp at what you see. There’s a bleeding old woman pinned underneath, still alive. You call for Taehyung’s help, the both of you pulling her as delicately as you can manage from beneath the rubble.

“I can’t believe you’re still alive, it’s a miracle by The Gods.” Taehyung holds the old woman’s hand as you run to the horse to fetch a canteen of water.

“Oh, a miracle yes,” the old woman coughs out, “fate has blessed me after much burden.”

You work to clean her skin of dried blood and ash, offering her water to drink. “What can we do to help?”

“My walking stick, it is most important.” Her eyes stay closed shut in pain, as she gestures to the place you’ve pulled her from. Taehyung rummages around until he pulls an item from the wreckage, an impressive staff decorated with gold markings and a large green gem adorned at its apex.

The old woman offers Taehyung her gratitude, feeling much more at ease she opens her eyes to look at the pair of you. You stare into the old woman’s clouded grey eyes in surprise.

“Thank you child, but hurry, the rain will wash the flames away, but will halt your journey for the day.” Taehyung looks upwards at the old woman’s words, white clouds are traveling across the bright clear blue sky.

You can’t leave the blind woman alone after everything she’s been through. “If it’s going to rain, please let us take you to the next village for shelter.” She nods and walks staff in hand towards Taehyung’s horse.

“Only a bit further, we will make it before it rains,” the old blind woman promises. Sounds of thunder echo faintly in the background. The sun is no longer out, hidden behind dark grey storm clouds. You shiver and rub the exposed skin of your arms for comfort next to Taehyung as the two of you walk next to his horse. He grasps your hand and pulls you closer to him. He radiates warmth. You never know how to react to his kind gestures. You look up at him and meet his gaze, sending him a shy smile. He rubs his thumb on your knuckles, smiling brightly back. If his intentions were to make you warm, he succeeded, your heart feels full.

“This is a farming community. They are a kind people who serve Demeter, the two of you are safe here,” At the old woman’s declarations you and Taehyung look at each other, exchanging unspoken words.

“This is where our paths must diverge. If you continue to follow this road, you’ll find sanctuary for the night, I promise.” Taehyung helps the old blind woman down from his horse. “Thank you again, children. I don’t have anything to offer you in return for your help, but I can give you some words of wisdom.” She smiles kindly at you both.

The old blind woman still holds Taehyung’s hand in hers. She turns his palm upward, her fingers trace the lines of his hand. You watch her curiously. “Ahh, your soul holds so much talent, you’ll find it’s both a blessing and a curse.” You giggle, Taehyung shoots you a look, his lips curving into a half smile. “Ahh, you know of it already. In the future, you’ll have a great choice to make, I can’t choose for you, but as someone who's lived many years and knows how dreadful and gray the world can become, my advice is to choose the path of love.”

“Always,” Taehyung’s eyes cast a look over to you and you feel shy once more under his gaze.

She brings her hand to Taehyung’s face to pat his cheek. “Dear child, too beautiful for your own good. It won’t be easy for you, for either of you, this path before you. Hermes wings have found your heels, you won’t find much rest in this life.” She looks sympathetic as her head turns towards you.

“Much like the universe has brought you to me, I see destiny is not a stranger.” She smiles at you knowingly. You hold your breath as she reaches for your hand, studying your palm alongside Taehyung’s. “Your souls...they have been linked together. I see the red string of fate wrapped tightly around you both.”

You find yourself wanting to believe her. Her words seem heartfelt and true, and you can’t deny her strong aura despite her fragile appearance. You catch Taehyung’s eyes again. Has he been looking at you this entire time? She continues, “This bond you have is quite unbreakable, not even death can cut what tethers you together.” She studies your hand more carefully, “Ahh, peculiar...”

“Do you see something worrisome?” you ask, concerned.

“It is nothing to worry dear, you have much love that surrounds you. Let yourself love. There will be those who will try to keep you apart, but take it from an old old woman, love is a stronger force than even the gods can imagine. It glitters brighter than gold and gives you riches greater than Kings. In the end, you’ll find a way.”

You think of her words all night. You look over to your companion, he sleeps peacefully next to you. Do you love him? Is this love? Is he your destiny? You pray to Athena for answers, but only more questions arise in your mind.

You think to the day you first met him, the memory bringing a smile to your face. You left with him, in the end. It was you who found the courage to ask him to take you with him, on the premise of wanting to see the world while moving to another temple. You expected him to let you down gently, you remember his hesitation still, but instead he had not refused you, and you have been traveling with him ever since. Being with Taehyung filled the holes of loneliness that punctured your existence before meeting. Your world had been small, consisting only within the temple’s walls. Now your world feels infinite, it’s thrilling and terrifying, and at the center of it all is Taehyung, gentle and kind and sincere in his affection.

---

You are jostled from your sleep. Taehyung pulls you gently from your bed, his lips placing tender kisses across your forehead as he pulls you to your feet. “I’m sorry, we have to leave again.”

This is not the first time you've had to run, or the second or third. So you pack the things you cannot part with and say goodbye to the rest.

Taehyung, the beautiful poet with a voice that can capture any audience's attention, has always been able to afford you both a roof and a meal. Taehyung’s performances become the talk of whatever acropolis you find yourself in, and his fame grows until his looks and voice catch the attention of someone too important to ignore. Fame is a wonderful thing until it becomes too much, too demanding, and all too quickly can Taehyung’s admirers turn into attackers, vilifying his every action. When that happens he decides to run, and you follow. You worry if it goes on like this you’ll have no more places left to run to.

You liked this place the most, it pangs your heart to lose your home again, but you know your true home is in Taehyung’s arms. You pack as many mementos of this place as you can carry, and hold the rest of your memories close in your heart.

---

“Like this,” you pull your bow back and look to the trees ahead where three pheasants sit perched. You choose the biggest bird and aim your arrow. You make sure Taehyung is studying your form and then you let the arrow go. The bird squawks sharply before falling to the ground, and the others scatter to the sky.

“See!” you laugh at Taehyung’s astonished face.

“How are you so much better at this than me?” The poet whines as you hand him back his bow and arrow. You laugh again. You and Taehyung have been learning to survive by yourselves through trial and error, more error than not. You’ve never had to hunt for food before, but you quickly found yourself skilled, and you think it’s quite fun. At least when you’re not starving, stomach already full from fresh berries Taehyung had picked for you to share. He had picked you flowers as well. They sit in your hair in an intricate pattern after you complained to him you couldn’t eat flowers. You slowly remove the arrow bag from around your neck, so as not to ruin the halo he so carefully crafted.

“I caught it, so you cook it,” you tease.

He brings your hand to his lips for a quick kiss. “That, my fair maiden, I can do!”

---

It is late and Taehyung has not arrived home. His performance should have been done hours ago. You try not to let your thoughts wander into the dark depths of your worst fears as you settle into a restless unease. Your home is quiet and still, too quiet. You keep your ears focused as you wander around the house.

It goes from quiet to chaos too quickly, you hear shouting in the distance. A hand grabs your mouth before you can scream, you start to kick but strong arms hold you tightly. Taehyung shushes you as he pulls you to the back entrance of your home.

You’re running into the woods with the poet, he pulls you to the ground and holds you beneath him. From the bushes you watch men with swords circle your house. You feel violated as you watch them enter your home. Crashes inside make you flinch in Taehyung's arms. “We’ll go back to fetch our things once they leave,” he shushes you.

The soft warm glow of your house becomes bright, light filling up the night sky as a fire breaks out and the men continue to destroy your home. Taehyung covers your mouth to stifle your cries and holds you close to him, whispering countless apologies. You can only whimper in his arms, your shoulders shake in grief as you watch everything you own go up in flames.

When you first came to this place, you and Taehyung stood out too much for the villagers' liking. You were strangers, you didn’t look like them, and they targeted you constantly for the pettiest of things. But this area was remote so you endured their hateful ways. It didn’t help matters when Taehyung, a much better singer than the locals before him, was offered an audience with the region’s King. Taehyung never made an appearance, letting other singers he befriended attend in his place, hoping to gain some favor with the locals, but it only angered the King. Feeling insulted, he killed the poets. And now, with enemies at both ends, and anger consuming the villagers, Ares wrath scorched your home to the ground.

You’re quiet next to Taehyung. Your feet ache from walking. No horse, no food in days. It’s nightfall and cold, you wear his cloak and shiver still. You walk beside the poet, but he feels oceans away. His usual bright eyes are dull and full of sorrow. You didn’t realize how accustomed you were to his touch until he had stopped. Your body aches to be in his arms, to hold his hand while you walk. You feel loneliness twist around you instead.

It is Taehyung who breaks the silence. He speaks softly, “There is a famous temple of Athena in this city, hopefully we can convince them to let you stay.”

The idea revolts you, pulling at the pit of your stomach. The thought of going back to your old ways, as if it would be a reprieve or something you missed, makes you nauseated.

“No.”

“I thought it would be enough...I-I was naive. I’m truly cursed. I can sing all about love, paint beautiful stories of love’s triumph, but when I cannot give you anything else but my devotion, it’s not enough. I can’t stand to watch you wither away in front of me. You deserve more.”

“The oracle said-”

“What kind of life is this for you?” He stops walking, his voice breaks in his anguish. “I-I’m sorry. I should have never taken you away from safety into this reckless existence. This should have been my burden alone.” Tears fall down his face as he shudders. You reach for him, cup his face in your hands. How can you make him see he’s all you want? He lets you wipe away his tears. You pull his head down to meet yours.

“What kind of life is this? The best life I’ve ever could have wished for. A life full of love. I’d trade everything I have for you.” You brush your lips against his, it stops his tears. His eyes fill with adoration, a blazing intensity that makes your heartbeat quicken.

“Stop this worrying, let’s go.” You grab his hand and pull him along. The silence hangs heavy in the air, the stillness of the night frightens you.

“Sing me a song please.”

“From now on I’ll only sing for you.” Taehyung says his words quietly, but his resolve thunders to the heavens, shaking the course of your lives.

The light of day shines through your open window, it illuminates the thin white fabric pulled over your head and wakes you. The white cloth flitters in the breeze of your bedroom and you catch a peak of the handsome man lying next to you. His dark warm eyes are already open as he watches you stretch your sleepiness away. He lifts his head, pulling the sheet higher, so he can get a better look at you, “Good morning, my beloved.”

Taehyung’s dark hair and tan skin against the glowing white backdrop of your bed sheets makes him look ethereal. You watch him in awe, “Good morning, dear husband.”

Your body feels heavy and rested. Your bare skin is warm against his and the sun heated sheet, the soft fabric pulls over your bodies, everything is so soft and warm.

Taehyung buries his head in your chest, smiling against your skin. “I love you.”

Your fingers play with the curls of his hair. “And I love you.”

Underneath the covers, you create your own little world, away from the responsibilities of your lives, the expectations of the day.

Taehyung runs his lips across your naked chest, kissing, licking, biting all over your body. You giggle at his playful teasing touches. “You’re perfection, so soft and pretty.” He captures your lips in a kiss, moving his mouth against yours slowly as his body rests between your legs. His hands find your waist and pull at your skin as he explores your mouth with his tongue, swallowing your moans.

Your legs wrap around his torso, you can feel him growing against your slick core. Taehyung's fingers find yours and he intertwines them together, pulling your arms above your head. He nibbles on the sensitive skin below your jaw.

“You smell so good,” he moans, “you taste so good.” His low baritone voice sends shivers down your body. You whimper, breathless from his caresses. He thrusts in slowly, rolling his body into you, slow and steady until you’re both feverish from mounting pleasure. “What do you want, my love?”

“Just you, please, I want all of you.”

He rolls you over so your body is on top of him. “You have me forever. Now show me how much you want me.” Your playful lover bites his lower lip, pulling on your hips to make you move against him. Your body moves up and down his length, Taehyung’s moans and devastating lustful looks spur you on to please him.

You roll your hips faster, so close to release. Taehyung notices your frenzied state and grabs your hips to hold you still, thrusting up into you instead. His hard length fills you up so deliciously. His grip on you is searing yet soft, you focus on his body below you, his tight muscles and golden skin. “I-I’m close.”

“Touch yourself for me.”

The room fills with sinful noises as your bodies converge again and again and you cry out in euphoria. Taehyung stills inside you as you reach your high, mesmerized by the way your body twist in pleasure in his arms.

Taehyung lays your trembling body down against the soft sheets of your bed, grinding his hips into you as you continue to pulse around him. “Eyes open, look at me my love.”

You struggle with his command, but hold his gaze as best you can, his physique shines with sweat and his hungry eyes roam over your spent body, the erotic way he looks at you ignites the desire in between your legs once again.

He’s so close to release. Taehyung quickens his pace, making you tighten around him, senses overloaded. You moan, encouraging him to keep going.

“You’ll let me fill you up? Have my baby?” His long fingers find your sensitive nub, applying pressure and making you cry out.

“Y-yes!” You can only feel blinding pleasure as Taehyung thrusts into you deeper.

“How beautiful you’ll be, glowing and pregnant with my baby growing inside of you.” He groans. Your stomach tightens as his cock swells, pressure filling you before you feel yourself snapping again. Taehyung’s own release following, your tightness too much for him to handle.

You hold him close to you as you both work to steady your breathing, “We have to start baking soon,” you softly remind him, “before the market opens.”

Taehyung cuddles closer to you, “It’s okay, they’ll wait for my bread, it is the best in the city.” He grins, kneading at your breasts with his large hands. You laugh, relaxing into his embrace.

“Okay okay, we’ll stay a bit longer.”

Your children gather around you in prayer. You take in a ragged breath. Your bedridden aging body feels heavy. Soft light begins to cloud the edges of your vision as you listen to the wistful voices of your sons and daughters shower you with love. Taehyung's fingers brush against your wrinkled digits.

“My beautiful wife, how I missed you.”

You call out his name. Your eldest daughter soothes you, brushing her hand over your forehead. You thought you would be afraid once teetering on the edge of your own mortality, but with him here, holding you again, fear is unable to reach you. You’re already so full of love.

Taehyung comes into your focus, still beautiful in his old age, still the gentle man you love, he places a feather light kiss on your temple. Relief washes through you, the currents pull the burdens on your soul away, and you feel light, floating between worlds.

“I’ve waited for you,” Taehyung’s deep voice fills your mind, “Are you ready to travel with me again?” You know your answer, innate as the love you felt when you first met him.

You take one final breath, letting go and following Taehyung again.

---

Your eyes flutter open. You’re lying face down on the hotel bed. As your eyes begin to focus, you are met with the singer’s face next to yours. Taehyung is lying on his back next to you, grinning from ear to ear, your fingers are still interlocked by your heads.

“What happened?” you whisper.

“I don’t know, I think we passed out, I woke up right before you opened your eyes.”

He looks at you, still beaming, a boxy smile plastered on his face. You try not to smile back. He shouldn’t be this happy!

“That wasn’t bad. You made it sound bad.” he pouts.

You hum, looking at your still intertwined fingers. You study the smooth skin of your hands, the wrinkles and veins you’d seen now only a fleeting memory. You feel tired.

Taehyung feels like he’s just woken up from a long dream. Memories of last night feel far away, more distant than memories presumably lived centuries ago. He focuses on the only constant, you.

“Do you regret it?”

You let out a deep exhale, you move your hand to trace his cheek, his nose, his eyebrow; he watches you quietly. You flick him on the forehead.

Taehyung yelps, looking quite betrayed by your actions. You smile, and his expression switches easily back to happiness. “It’s okay, you don’t have to admit I’m right,” he teases.

You let out a huff, “Doesn’t it bother you? It should bother you! Why is this happening...it’s exhausting...”

Taehyung wraps his arms around you and pulls you close to his body. “I don’t care why,” he mumbles into your hair. Your breath catches in your throat as he cuddles closer to you.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Your heart pounds. You try to stay calm. “No,” you whisper.

His arms tighten around your frame. His warmth envelopes you, it feels like there’s fire inside you, burning down all your apprehensions.

“So this is how it feels. I thought I understood Jungkook. But this is....” you feel his body vibrate as he laughs to himself. “It’s not something you can put into words, right? I understand what he means, about not wanting to let you go.”

Closing your eyes you can picture yourself being in a different place, a different land, another time, you let yourself relax into Taehyung’s embrace. You can feel his hands caress your body, his long fingers travel to the back of your neck and down your spine and the curve of your back.

“I know I’ve never hugged you, but it feels like I’ve done this a hundred times before. Like you belong with me.” His voice is low in your ears. You try to ignore how you feel, how true his words are, but you can't.

“Right? At least admit that to me, y/n.” He whispers. His fingers dig into your skin as he pulls you even closer.

“Hm?”

“You belong with me.”

“I-” A knock on your door makes you break away from him. Taehyung flops on his back, sighing. You open the door to the youngest and oldest members smiling at you.

“Good morning!” You internally wince at your unusually high voice. Jungkook looks over your shoulder, noticing movement inside your room. He sees Taehyung sitting cross legged on your bed, leaning back on his palms with a grin on his face. Jungkook’s doe eyes go wide as his head turns slowly over to the eldest, who then mirrors his expression. Their surprised faces would be comical to you if you didn’t feel responsible for their reactions.

Everyone’s silence is making your stomach twist into knots. You clear your throat. “I touched his hand, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Unable to meet their eyes, you feel the need to add, “That’s all that happened. So...okay, let’s go!”

---

Everyone is sitting in the penthouse, around the coffee table filled with plates piled high with different breakfast foods. Some are sitting on the floor, some on the couch with plates in their laps. Jin ushers you next to an open spot next to J-Hope and sits on your other side. Taehyung and Jungkook have been quietly talking behind you and find seats in the empty gaps.

“The food here is really good,” Hoseok says in between bites as Jin serves you a plate. He smiles brightly at you. Hoseok wishes he wasn't so apprehensive with you. He aches to get to know you, learn all your quirks, learn about your childhood and what makes you happy so he can shower you with more of it; and what makes you sad so he can make sure you never experience it again. But he's too scared, Hoseok feels too much guilt.

His hair is messy and sticking up in weird angles, you resist the urge to fix it. ‘Just keep your hands to yourself, y/n. He’s not your friend,’ you chant in your head. You look around at the men, cozy and warm in their group. You realize how much of an outsider you are.

“Here,” Jin places a triangle of sweet toast on your already overflowing plate. You eat quietly while the members talk to themselves and check their phones. It feels nice, like a big family dinner on the holidays. You watch Hoseok take a selfie with his phone, a minute later you feel your phone vibrate with a notification.

“You posted to twitter just now?” Hoseok notices the panic in your voice as you magnify the picture to make sure there’s no item or reflection that might incriminate you.

“Err yes, why?” he scoots closer to you to see what you’re doing.

“I just-didn’t think it was that easy.” You scroll quickly through your timeline now that you’ve made sure you’re safe, Jin and Hoseok both moving in your space to stare at your phone much to your dismay and you think it’s time to put it away after the third photo of Namjoon’s toned arms pop up on your feed.

After stuffing yourselves full, the time has come to address the elephant in the room. The members take turns reliving the moments of last night, and in Taehyung’s case this morning, explaining everything so the group could all remain on the same page.

Namjoon should have been upset, once Taehyung shocked the rest of the group by speaking, but being in the same predicament himself, he was not surprised to learn Taehyung sought you out, he had barely slept toying with the idea himself.

You don’t talk much, just confirm certain details. You noticed how the men glossed over the most tragic parts of your visions, and you don’t care to interject. You learned new things as well...

Jimin finding his way back to your farm, only to find it destroyed and you gone, and unable to live with himself after that. You can’t meet each other's eyes when you tell him your own version of events.

Jin wanted to propose, he had picked out a ring, a bright blue gem like the ocean.

Taehyung had convinced you he stopped singing as a bard because he grew to hate it, but he confessed, to your suspicion, that wasn’t the case at all. He promised you he never once regretted his decision.

Hoseok took the job as a DJ because when you were younger you were obsessed with your local station, swooning over the DJ's voice and always calling in to win contests for you and Hoseok. He always had an affinity for music, but mostly he did it for you, to impress you.

Yoongi almost didn’t admit he had never really left your side, how he never stopped protecting you. That had shocked you the most. Your heart screams to comfort him, to comfort all of them.

Jungkook excitedly tells you everything he had planned for your escape, he used his life’s savings to find you and him a new home far away. He tells you how if you both had succeeded you would have been so happy with him.

It felt weird. All these lives inside you itching to burst through, you didn’t feel like yourself anymore. You meet the idol’s eyes sitting next to you, and when he looks at you so tenderly, you wonder who he really sees.

“Yoongi’s life was the coolest.” The quiet rapper keeps his head down, only nodding in acknowledgement at Jimin’s comment.

“Well I liked mine,” Taehyung declares. “Which one was your favorite, y/n?”

“I’m not answering that,” you mutter, growing hot under the sudden attention.

“Hmm I don’t see a connection.” Namjoon hums. “Apart from y/n.”

“Should there be one?”

“I’m assuming nothing strange like this has ever happened to you before?” Namjoon turns to you. You shake your head. “Have you ever had dreams, um, of us?”

“No! I mean-what? No.” You pull the neck of Jungkook’s hoodie over your mouth to hide your embarrassment, with no intention on admitting anything. What does dreaming have to do with this?

Namjoon stays silent in thought. Should he tell the group now?

“I should probably go now.” It’s no longer morning after talking for so long. You have a life to go back to; chores, work. You hope being back in your home will make you feel more like the old you, before everything you thought you knew was turned upside down.

Jungkook stands up, “Why!”

“I have work in the morning? Not everyone is a famous world class musician,” You try to keep your tone light, but you’re bothered.

His lips press into a tight line. “I know, just…”

You have responsibilities, a job to go to tomorrow, you don’t want to entertain the wild fantasies arising in your mind at the way he looks at you so pleadingly to stay. “I can’t stay here all day.” You stand up as well, the members’ eyes dart back and forth between you and Jungkook, like they were watching fighters in a match.

“I don’t want you to leave.” Jungkook blurts out.

You close your eyes and rub at your temples. It’s becoming too hard, to keep pushing these feelings away, you cannot allow yourself to feel things for these men. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. What do you want from me?”

Jungkook speaks louder, “Do you not want to be with me?”

“I’m-that’s not-it’s not that simple. You don’t even know me! Do you want to be with me-”

“Yes.”

You let out an incredulous laugh and look around the room, but the men look starkly serious. You focus on the youngest again, raising your voice so everyone can hear you clearly. “I’m a nobody. You don’t know me. Name one thing you know about me other than my name...name my favorite color! If you can name my favorite color I’ll sta-”

Jungkook names your favorite color. His eyes piercing through you. Your breath catches in your throat.

‘How did he-wait...was it her favorite color too?’ Tears well up in your eyes. “...I’m not her.”

Jungkook winces at your words, “You’re right, I don’t know who you are right now. But you are...I know you are...the woman I fell in love with. What are you so afraid of?”

You look down at the ground to your feet. You can only shake your head at him and keep your mouth shut so you don’t start crying in front of them. You feel a hand wrap around yours and you already know who it is. You yank your hand away. If Yoongi is hurt, he doesn’t show it to you.

“I’m sorry, I know my life is difficult, that I’m a ‘famous musician,’ but isn’t it better than a poor stable worker? Can’t you see how meeting you again, this might be, maybe...fate?”

A pained laugh escapes your throat, letting go of the pressure you built up in your forced silence. “Oh my god. This is not happening.” Yes, maybe you can finally admit what happened was real, but what does that change? It’s not like you can run away with him in this life either, the entire world recognizes him now.

Your hands hold your head, your nails dig into your skin to concentrate on anything other than Jungkook’s continuing pleas. It’s just laughable to think this idol is begging you to stay with him. A sick thought invades your mind that maybe you’re doomed to repeat your transgressions. The memory of his bleeding body flashes in your mind, you’re not meant to be with them, how could you be? They’re the most famous singers in the world, yeah, you are afraid.

Jimin tries to calm down the youngest, “Kookie, you can’t force her to stay here…”

Jungkook is beside himself. He feels you slipping through his fingers again, away from him and even if it’s different now, it feels too sickeningly similar.

“Hyung please, you’ve been with non-idols, please talk to her...please!” Jungkook is crying, begging Jin.

A strangled sob escapes your throat at his cries. Hoseok rushes over to you, but you scramble away from his touch. You know you’ll break the second you let him comfort you.

Jin’s heart is breaking; for Jungkook, for you, for himself. He doesn’t know what to say, he’s just afraid as Jungkook of letting you go. Finally Namjoon decides to take control of the situation, the only one with a clear head. “Everyone leave. Now. Y/n deserves her space, and we still have four more days left in this city. Alright go!” The boys pull each other away, holding onto each other for strength, trusting their leader.

Yoongi pats a crying Jungkook on the back, “It’s okay, Joon will convince her.”

---

Your eyes hurt from crying, puffy and dark. You feel pathetic. Your head is pounding, you lean against the car window as you watch the blur of the city go past.

“Here.” Namjoon sits across from you, leaving the middle seat open. He hands you a cell phone.

You hold the sleek new model in your hand, “What is this?”

“It’s a hand phone,” the idol says teasingly.

You can’t help but let out a small laugh. “What is this for?”

“For you, to contact us.” Namjoon shrugs, “If you want to.” You sit in silence as his driver takes you home.

“You haven’t asked to touch my hand. Do you not want to?” You ask, sneaking a glance at the rapper.

“Of course I want to,” he speaks softly. “It’s all I’ve thought about since I saw you. But you’ve gone through a lot. I’ll let you decide if it’s something you want to do, and when you’re ready I’ll be here.”

You bite your lip. “For four more days.”

Namjoon smiles, his dimples on display. “Yes, I’m guessing you didn’t get tickets for the next city?”

“No, I wish. Those fanmeet tickets weren’t exactly cheap.”

Namjoon chuckles softly, “Ahh sorry.”

“Well, I did get a free breakfast with BTS, lucky me,” you hum. He nods, his eyes cast down. You hope he didn’t catch any bitterness in your tone, under any circumstance you would be dying of happiness.

You let the silence envelope you again, as you start to recognize the streets, you’re getting closer to home and to being left alone. You sigh, running your hands over your face, “Oh god, this is a mess.”

“I don’t think it is. I think there’s a reason for everything. And I think there’s a reason why this happened to you. To all of us.”

“What could that reason be?” You ask him genuinely, maybe the genius idol sees something you don’t.

“I don’t know. I do know it’s lonely being an idol. It’s hard to love, to find someone to love you and not break under the constant pressure.”

“I don’t know if I can be that person.”

“Well to me, it sounds like you’ve already been that person.” You want to scoff, but the sincere look in his eyes makes you stop. The GPS signals your arrival home.

The air is heavy as you gather up the strength to leave, “I will message you later, I promise. Just give me some time.”

You watch the expensive van leave your entrance. You couldn’t see through the dark tinted windows, but you had a feeling the idol was watching you, so you held yourself together and waved goodbye.

---

You know you should have just gone inside your home, but you had something to do first, it was driving you mad not knowing. So now you stand in front of a door that’s not your own still in clothes that are not your own. You send a text of your arrival and knock.

“Hi!” You pretend you aren’t exhausted, “I just have to try something-”

He looks at you dumbfounded as you grab his hand and start shaking it. Nothing. ‘Of course, just wonderful.’ You switch to two hands, shaking more forcefully.

“What’s going on...” his voice is shaky from the intense movements of your greeting. ‘Why is nothing happening, why is it only them, Ugh, why!’

“Earth to y/n...” why why why why.

He grabs your arms to stop your movements “Hey, are you okay? You never responded to my calls, I was worried.”

“I’m sorry,” you look into his concerned eyes. It feels like eons ago, whatever budding feelings you had for him. Why.

“Do you want to come in?”

“No, I better go.”

“You came all the way over here and you don’t want to tell me how last night went? You meet BTS and now you’re acting all crazy! You didn’t decide to leave me for one of them, did you?” your friend jokes.

“Ah ha aha…”

He raises his eyebrow at you. “I have work tomorrow...I just wanted to see you.” It’s the truth, you’re not lying. “I’m sorry for not responding last night. I’ll see you later?”

He gives you a kiss goodbye. ‘Oh no.’ It all feels so wrong.

---

The first day, you send Jungkook an apology. He sends you a ton of voice memos and selfies, just happy to talk to you again. You respond with light replies, trying not to dig your hole any deeper.

The second day, that night you break down. You send all the boys a simple “hi”. Yoongi, Jin, Taehyung, Jungkook, and Namjoon all respond. They send messages about their day. Jin sends you a picture of his food. Yoongi says he misses you. Against your better judgement you tell him you miss him too. Suspiciously, after your reply Jungkook and Taehyung message that they miss you seconds apart from one another. You tell them you miss them too, when Taehyung says he wants to see you, you’re too scared to respond.

The third day you stay busy with work. Hoseok sends you a picture of the sunset, his first message to you, nothing else. You wait until the night comes and send a picture of the moon from your window, and ‘Goodnight. Sweet dreams.’

The fourth day the pressure becomes too much. You hover over the call button all day but you can’t do it. By dinner time, you get a call from Jungkook. You try to swallow down the tears you’ve cried all day and sound cheerful when you answer.

“I just wanted to call before we get on the plane,” he says.

‘It’s too late. No.’ you think. “I’m sorry, tell Namjoon I’m so sorry. I should have seen him before you all left, I should have...”

“Don’t worry y/n. No one blames you.”

“That doesn’t mean what I did was okay. I wanted to see you all again.”

“You did?” The way his voice becomes more cheerful tugs at your heart. “You can make it up to us by talking more. Can I video chat with you later?”

“Okay.”

“Okay, got to go...Bye Beautiful.” He sounds like he’s in a much better mood, you can hear the teasing lilt to his words.

Weeks go by. You keep your promise. It’s easier communicating through the screen of your phone. You can imagine them to be online friends, people who are not famous. Some conversations stay light, some become deeper. They pry information from your life, learning more and more about you, and you feel yourself getting attached to their morning greetings and late night calls. Meanwhile, with family and friends you try to act like everything is normal, keeping this weird new world hidden, but you’re still constantly haunted by your memories with them. Your past lives play through your mind all day long and replace your dreams. Everything else felt so wrong now, so not you anymore, so gray. You feel like a bad friend, a bad daughter, a cheater.

---

Namjoon wakes up, groaning, his body still heavy from sleep. He quickly changes into a pair of slacks and a button down shirt. He chooses a forest green vest to wear, like the plants in his room. He runs pomade in his hair before heading downstairs to get ready for the morning.

He unlocks the door to his bookstore, before he can turn around the door opens with a loud ding. You walk in and make a beeline to the center table. Namjoon laughs, “Back so soon?”

“Of course, I’m so bored! My crops won’t be harvestable for another couple of months. Any other recommendations? I loved your last one.” You smile brightly at the bookstore owner, he’s always so kind to you and doesn’t make you feel like an outsider when you visit. If you could, you would spend all day in his store, talking about the latest novels and picking each other's brains. “Before I forget! For you...” You hand him two jars of homemade jam.

You're his favorite customer. And if Namjoon is being honest, he has a crush on you. He pulls a book from high above a shelf, a pristine copy. “This one, it should keep you busy.” Your eyes sparkle as you take in the large leather bound novel, gold letters adorning it’s spine. “How much?”

“Don’t worry, this one time I’ll take jam as payment.”

“No, that was a present,” you pout.

“Well, then this is a present for you.”

“Sir, if you don’t let me pay, I will throw a fit! I need you to stay in business.” It’s always like this with him, you’ll be damned if he doesn’t let you show him how much you appreciate him.

Namjoon laughs, “Alright alright. Then promise me you’ll come visit as soon as you finish.”

You nod, holding your new purchase close to your heart. He watches you leave, his eyes lingering on your body. You hold onto his book like a prized trophy. It’s another thing he loves about you, the way you treat things with so much care. His eyes still linger on you as you stand outside his shop. He sees a stranger run into you, you stumble back and almost fall, he rushes to the door to help you but stops in his tracks as the man's face comes into focus. “Jimin?”

Namjoon wakes up startled. He runs his hands through his hair, disturbed at what he saw. He’s covered in sweat, inside the cold room of his bedroom. Every night he’s had dreams of you, but this one was different. Should he go talk to someone about it? Who would believe him? He feels like every day he’s slowly getting closer to losing his mind. Today is going to be a long day full of press junkets. He rubs at his eyes trying to forget what he saw, what he felt.

---

Today you decide to call Namjoon. Usually, you’ll wait until one of the members decides to call you, but you had to talk to him before you lost your nerve. He picks up on the second ring. “Hey, I can’t talk for that long, is everything okay?” you can hear how busy it is in the background.

“No it’s my fault! I’m sorry, I’m an idiot, of course you would be busy. Call me when you’re free.”

“No! I have some time, we can talk.” You hear him shuffling to a quieter location.

Are you going to regret this? You take a deep breath. “I want to see you again. I-I don’t want to forget about what happened and go back to my life like everything is normal when it's not. You were right. I’m sorry...I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it.” You wait for Namjoon’s response, the silence fills you with anxiety. You would completely understand if he brushes you off now.

“I’ll figure something out. Okay y/n?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

“See you.”

That night Namjoon sends you a series of text messages with instructions. Your eyes go wide over the new information. You look around your home, you know you should feel some sadness, but only excitement bubbles inside you. ‘I guess this is it.’ How are you going to explain this to your family and friends, to your boyfriend? A special internship in South Korea, you guess is how you’ll start.

---Three Months Later---

Namjoon splashes cold water on his face, he looks up into his bathroom mirror and blinks at his reflection. Namjoon’s eyes are not his.

Namjoon wakes up yelling. He falls back into bed, catching his breath. He checks the time. You should be on the plane right now. The idol rapper has always appreciated the wealth he’s accumulated over the years, but he feels especially grateful in this moment, now that he has found himself in a position of power large enough to secure you with a translation job within his own company.

---

A man holds a sign with your name on it. You walk towards him, your suitcase ticking on the airport concrete as it rolls on the ground behind you. You spent the last three months preparing for this, studying over language books every night and saying goodbye to family and friends. Your parents didn’t understand your sudden change of career, but you promised them the pay was better and it wouldn’t be forever. Your boyfriend was not so understanding, especially when you wouldn’t give him any details as to why you’re leaving the county. You and him weren’t even that serious to begin with but the breakup was messy.

You followed the driver’s instructions once he dropped you off in front of a very posh looking complex, entering key codes, up the elevator, down the hall, until you stood in front of the correct numbered door. You use the key he gave you to unlock the large door and walk into a massive apartment. Every member is already inside, waiting for you. You feel relief wash over you, you can’t help but smile at the group. They cheer at your arrival, you notice balloons and a makeshift welcome sign. The mood is definitely much more relaxed from the last time you all gathered together.

“Is this your place?” You ask as Jungkook takes your suitcase.

“No, this is your apartment.”

Your eyes go wide, “This is way too big!”

Taehyung jumps up and gives you a hug. The months you talked made you feel much more comfortable around them, but you still weren’t prepared for the rush of emotions that filled you once in his embrace again.

“It’s the smallest unit in this building,” Yoongi lets you know.

“And I’m guessing I can’t go to another building.”

“Our dorm is in this one,” The youngest member explains.

“How…” You take a deep breath, eyeing Jungkook up and down, “...convenient.” You take a seat with them on the ridiculously huge couch, next to Yoongi and Jin.

You sigh, stretching your sore jet lagged muscles. “Need to go to the bathroom?” Yoongi whispers at you teasingly.

You snort, his words taking you out of your worries. “Funny,” you mutter.

The eldest helps you fill out a stack of forms for your employment while the rest set plates of takeout on the living room table. You eat your first meal in Korea together. Sitting together, laughing together, you feel better than you have in months. It’s that feeling you get when you’ve finally completed a puzzle, placing the last piece in its place. You feel complete.

Taehyung’s words pull you from your thoughts.

“So y/n, when are you gonna hold Joon’s hand?”

“Oh, um…”

“You came all the way to Korea for him, right!” Taehyung teases.

“She doesn’t have to...” Namjoon murmurs.

“Oh c’mon! You can’t tell me you haven’t been going crazy waiting!”

“Yeah, I agree with Tae!” Jimin laughs.

“Do it!” Jungkook cheers.

“Do it! Do it! Do it!” The youngest members are chanting at the pair of you. You feel the heat rise in your face. You had planned on it, you wanted to find a way to get Namjoon alone, but now with all the attention on you, you feel apprehensive. You look over to Namjoon who looks equally as embarrassed. ‘I don’t want to do this,’ the thought screams in your head.

It has been months, Namjoon has waited for this moment. Now that he’s being put on the spot, he’s apprehensive. Ever since his bandmates touched you, they have acted differently, it might not be noticeable to anyone around them, but Namjoon noticed. Would he change too? Before he can yell at his bandmates, you stand up and walk over to his seat. “They aren’t going to stop,” You whisper, holding out your hand. He sighs and stands up.

“So?” Jin asks when he notices the lack of reaction from both of you as you grip each other's hands.

“Um, nothing is happening.” You stare at the rapper, but his attention is on the place where your hands meet, brows furrowed in disbelief.

“This doesn’t make sense..” He starts shaking your hand up and down as if that might help, it reminds you of the night he dropped you off, and you know exactly how he feels.

“Maybe it’s because I’m jet lagged or something? We could try again later...” you try to soothe the rapper but you can tell he is growing more and more upset with each passing moment, and your arm feels like it's going to dislodge from your shoulder the more he shakes.

The members have all gone silent.

“Maybe you don’t have a past life together?” Hoseok places his hand on Namjoon’s shoulder to stop his movements. No one expected this.

“No, that’s not-we have to-I know it!” Namjoon tries to stay calm but his voice is full of panic.

“Maybe it had something to do with that time, the planets aligning or something?” Jimin says. Is this your fault? Because you were too scared. What have you done? You’re rethinking everything now, you shouldn’t have come here.

“No.” Namjoon is right, he knows it, “that’s not it...” It doesn’t make sense, he knows there’s a connection between you and him. He lets the confession tumble out of his mouth before he can properly think. “Your name, I knew it! How would I know your name?”

You look at him confused, “What do you mean?”

Namjoon bites his tongue. He lets go of you. He blinks his eyes to get rid of tears threatening to spill. The mood is gone and everyone is silent. You feel horrible. Somehow this is your fault, you know it.

“Joon...” The eldest member calls out to him.

“I-I need some air.” Namjoon breaks away from the group.

“Wait!”

---

OOOOooo you had a whole ass boyfriend and you went and tongued Yoongi, scandalous. Looks like poor Joonie got the spiritual cockblock. Should I explain myself lol or do you like drawing your own conclusions?

Oh! Fun fact, the two sentences were this: Your eyes flutter open, you’re lying face down on the hotel bed. Taehyung is lying on his back next to you, grinning from ear to ear, your fingers are still interlocked by your heads. That’s what I had to go on T_T hah. Anyways let me know what you think <3

#bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts fantasy au #bts soulmate au #bts historical au #bts smut #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #ot7 x reader #reader x ot7 #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung fanfic #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff

[bottomlouisficfest]

Addressing Some Drama

We prefer not to address drama publicly because this is fic fest and people are here for writing tips and fics, but since people are making misleading posts about this fest, we decided to address it.

Last year, an individual signed up to be both a writer and a beta in the fic fest, but later dropped out as a writer. They said they were able to continue on as a beta, so we said that was fine and removed them from the fest.

Many months later, we heard from a writer whose fic this person had beta-ed that they had insulted BL writers and the fest and had made this writer feel uncomfortable. We received explicit proof of this, and so the beta was blocked from @blouisparadise​​, as that blog is intended to be a safe space for BL writers. When the person found out they were blocked, they had a friend ask why, and we explained the situation. They later reached out through another friend to apologize, which we thanked them for, but chose not to unblock them from the blog in order to keep it as an encouraging space for BL writers.

To our surprise, the person went on to sign up for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest soon afterwards. We treated them as we do every other writer and welcomed them into the fest despite their previous disparaging comments.

As many of you know, we require all writers to submit a draft of their fic about a month and a half before final fics are due. This draft has no minimum word requirement - it can just be a couple of paragraphs if a writer wants - but it’s a good way to ensure that writers are working on their fics.

This draft deadline is articulated to writers through email and on Tumblr at the beginning of the fest and it is also mentioned as a requirement in the rules for the fest. One week before this deadline occurs, the mods send emails to each participant in the fest to remind them to submit their draft via email. We also posted numerous reminders on Tumblr and on Twitter.

After the draft deadline passed, we didn’t receive drafts from several writers and reached out to them through email. This is the email we sent:

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In the email above, we provided an additional week for these writers to either submit their draft OR simply reach out to us about an extension if needed.

We also mentioned on Tumblr and Twitter that we were sending this email, just in case some may not check their email frequently. Immediately, several writers sent their drafts, and some others let us know that they would be sending their later that week. However, there were a few that we did not hear from. We posted reminders throughout the week for those writers to please submit their draft OR to contact us about an extension, just as we did in the above email. We repeatedly reiterated that if writers chose to ignore our requests instead of reaching out, they would be removed from the fest.

When the one week draft extension passed, we had heard from most participants, but there were a few that did not get back to us. We sent them an email letting them know that they had been removed from the fest and that they would not be able to participate in future fests due to lack of communication, which is our only dealbreaker in terms of participation in the fest.

The person who we mentioned above had failed to turn in their draft or reach out to us on any platform, so we sent them an email to let them know that they had been removed from the fest. They sent us the following in response:

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At this point, we had posted or emailed at least 6 different reminders about the draft deadline and requested that writers simply reach out to us if they needed more time. We heard nothing back, not even a single line email letting us know that they needed more time, which we would’ve happily accepted just as we did for others. They only reached out after we let them know that they had been removed from the fest. We replied with the following:

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We were willing to accept their draft later that day despite the fact that they had failed to reach out to us repeatedly and had now missed two deadlines. We expected that we would receive their outline and we would pretend the entire removal hadn’t happened, but instead, we received the following email:

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This email and the accusations made it in have mysteriously been excluded from this person’s post about our response, which made it sound like we had sent a two-paragraph, rude response simply because they had tried to drop out, which is untrue. For most drop outs of the fest, we simply let them know that they’ve been removed and thank them for letting us know. However, for most drop outs from a fest, we aren’t insulted by the writers.

After we received this email, we were extremely frustrated and upset at being told that we somehow lacked compassion after we had done everything possible to ensure that this person and all our writers were aware of the draft deadline and that they should reach out if they need additional time.

We have no issues being accommodating - we have allowed numerous writers over the course of three years of the BLFF turn in their drafts late and turn in their fics late because we fully understand that fic writing is not everybody’s first priority and challenges come up in life. That’s why our only request, which we reiterate constantly, is that people simply REACH OUT TO US when they are struggling or won’t be able to keep to a deadline. We are human beings, we are not all-knowing, and it is impossible to run a fest that had 100+ initial sign ups when writers will not communicate with us. We cannot know that you need help or more time when you choose to stay silent about it.

This writer had countless opportunities and chose to wait until after they had been removed, and even then, we still gave them the chance to submit their draft, only to be told that we had no compassion. As you can also see, they chose to drop out of the fest and express that they did not want to work with any fest like ours because we apparently did not care for their well-being and treated their life circumstances as a burden, also untrue.

This was our response:

Most of this email is addressing their accusations about the mods of the fest lacking compassion. We do everything in our power to help every single writer get through our fest successfully. We send emails, we post writing tips, we reach out to writers to send reminders, we post reminders to both Tumblr and Twitter, we answer questions, and we check our email daily. We have run the fest for long enough now to realize that there will always be issues for some that prevent them from staying in the fest or that ensure they require extra time, and that’s something that we accept and accommodate as much as possible. It’s why our biggest requirement for the fest is simply communication.

We’re not sure why this individual chose to selectively post private emails today in order to paint a picture of a situation that was not accurate, though we can probably guess. We’re also not sure why others in response to that post are spreading lies, but perhaps jumping on the bandwagon of hate is more fun than acknowledging the truth of any situation.

As mods of this fest, we always try to strike a balance between having rules and deadlines in order to ensure things run smoothly, and providing accommodations for people when things come up that make it difficult for them to adhere to a deadline or stay in the fest. We do our best, and we’re sure we don’t always get it right, but we think we did here. We don’t understand how anyone can suggest that providing six reminders about a deadline and an additional week to either submit a draft or to reach out to discuss options lacks compassion. We also don’t understand how anyone can send that email to strangers as though we are bad or cruel people for simply expecting all writers in a fic fest to follow a few very simple, clearly articulated rules.

Human beings participate in fic fests, but human beings run them too. We do not have the time or ability to jump through hoops to track down writers for a fic fest. We’re sympathetic to everyone who signs up for a fest and then has to deal with personal struggles that interfere with their ability to write their fic or stick with the deadlines. That’s why we do everything we can to help those people, but when our attempts to reach out and our reminders are ignored, and when we are then insulted for providing yet another chance, we are not going to respond positively to that. Even less so when it’s from an individual who has a history of insulting the fest and the types of fics this fest includes.

We apologize if we upset anybody with our response, but we also hope that people will read through the full emails to see the full story and realize that all we have ever done with this fest is do the best we can. Since we cannot individually keep up with 90 people and their personal situations as we run the fest, the one ask that we have is that people communicate with us when it comes to any issues they may be having so we can try to help. When someone chooses not to keep up that bare minimum requirement of communication and we respond accordingly, we don’t think we deserve to be insulted for that. Some may disagree, but that’s our personal take.

If you got through this, thanks for listening. And now, back to fics! 😊

[themangolorian]

Pairing: Mandalorian x Reader

Request for @the1maddest1hatter my absolute love who has been so completely and totally patient with me and understanding and i’m so glad i was able to finally finish this and post it for you finally, and i hope it’s everything you were hoping for and more. thank you so much for not giving up on me - this was so fun to write and i’m glad i finally got it to somewhere i’m happy w/ it. i love you! 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Warnings: some slight violence.

You weren’t often in the habit of getting yourself involved in the business of others. But when you’d seen imperial guards chasing the cloaked and armored figure across the square, you figured you had no choice.

The fleeing culprit looked more than capable of taking care of himself, but the enemy of your enemy was your friend. So, interrupting the elaborate dance you’d been performing in the middle of the market, you twirled and flipped expertly until you were between the guards and whoever it was they’d been chasing. The distraction was enough. Still dancing and trying to suppress a smile, you saw the end of the figure’s cape disappearing around a corner.

The guards cursed violently your way but shouldered their way roughly past you in pursuit of the disappearing figure. What was more, your ruse had drawn the attention of the crowd of shoppers in the square, most of whom assuredly also had no love for the Empire. Before long, the cylinder you’d put in the square was full of credits.

But then-

Someone gripped your elbow painfully from behind, someone else your shoulder. Striking out to escape, you accidentally turned over the cylinder, spilling credits everywhere.

Loud shouts, haranguing from the crowd, assaulted the imperial guards who had returned empty-handed, the figure no doubt having escaped.

“What kind of dancer do you think I am?” You lilted sarcastically with more confidence than you deserved considering you were being detained.

“Keep your conniving trap shut, scum.” The trooper at your back rammed his baton into your lower back and you could hardly suppress the yelp of pain as you crumpled.

The protests from the crowd were easily deterred when the guards drew their high powered blasters and before you knew what was happening, you were being dragged away in durasteel binders. You cursed under your breath at the imperial guard who scooped up your hard-earned, now easily lost credits.

That was when the Madalorian had swooped in and, helped by the element of surprise, along with what was clearly immense skill, had taken out the guards - freeing you.

“What are you, a trooper gone good?” You’d joked, gesturing at his armor, though you knew it bore little resemblance to a trooper’s. He’d only grunted, focusing instead on freeing you from the binders.

But inevitably the guards had been almost instantly replaced with another unit who’d wasted no time in opening fire. The Mandalorian had dragged you along by the binders you were still trapped in. He managed to dart out of the way of every blaster shot aimed your way, hauling you with him as he went.

By the time you found yourself ensconced in the safety of his ship and as he blasted away from the planet you’d briefly called your home, your heart was beating too fast and you were laughing too hard, out of both panic and glee at the escapade, to question the new reality you found yourself in: on the ship of a stranger whose face you’d yet to see.

But that had been long ago enough by now that it was but a distant if happy memory. The Mandalorian, a man you’d thought so strange at first, had offered to drop you off on any planet of your choosing. And you’d truly meant to leave, but event after event had transpired, all revolving around the Empire’s chase for the child in the Mandalorian’s care, someone you’d also found strange but had now come to care for excessively.

You’d kept putting off leaving and then one day it had just stopped coming up. Though neither of you spoke of it, it now seemed a given that you were a staple in their strange little family.

“This is a good place to set up camp for the night,” the Mandalorian was saying, pulling you out of your reverie as you stared at the suns setting distantly in the sky past the horizon of the sea spread out beneath the cliff just beyond where you stood.

You turned absently and smiled at his visor. You had yet to see his face, even now, but by now he knew just how much you loved the seas, as few of them as you’d gotten to see in your lifetime. The choice of campsite was intentional, providing you with a breathtaking view of this particular planet’s suns-set.

Your heart stiffened painfully as you smiled sweetly his way. The man you’d gotten to know had been nothing like you’d thought he would be when you first met him, as intimidating as he’d seemed. He was gentle and generous to a fault, kinder than most souls you’d ever known.

The Mandalorian cleared his throat, breaking you from your stupor once more, but when he spoke, he too sounded emotional. “I’ll build the tent. Do you want to see how many rations we have left?”

You’s meant to answer but several things happened in succession. Din flinched then unholstered his blaster faster than you could blink. For one staggering moment of horror, you thought he was aiming it at you. But then the cold bite of metal was sharp at your throat, a strong arm coming around your middle firmly before you could react to any of it. A strangled cry left Din’s helmet.

“Where’s the target?” A raspy voice hissed at your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

You tried to struggle, despite the idiocy of that act. Your hands shot to the man’s wrist around your neck and you threw your body back in the hopes of escape. But he was like a brick wall and did not budge, did not even react to your attempt as if you were little more than a bug beneath his shoe. It took you a long moment to process the fact that you were in danger of losing your life.

“Let her go,” Din spoke in a cold, threatening voice, “and I’ll let you live.” The blaster in his grip did not waver.

Your blood ran cold when your captor only chuckled. “Give me the location of the child, and I promise her death will be painless.” He flicked the sharp blade at your throat and you gasped involuntarily at the pain, felt a warm trickle of blood running down your neck.

You saw Din’s grip tighten around his blaster, knew he was calculating the odds of shooting your captor without harming you. But you knew Din too well now, knew what conclusion he would reach. But if you were a lost cause, you were free to do whatever it took to ensure that Din was not. To ensure both his safety and the safety of the child.

Thoughts of the craggy, rocky surface at the bottom of the cliff just behind you nearly made you shudder; your fear of heights was almost blinding, but you fought through the distress that would have paralyzed your entire body with fear. Din and the child were, after all, more than worth it.

The standoff continued as if the world had come to a standstill though the breeze continued to blow past you, the chirping of animals continued in the jungle you’d emerged from and, distantly, the breaking of waves on the rocks below did not stop.

Just as you meant to make your move, your captor was yanking your arm back and up until- a sickly crunch sounded and you screamed in pain, trying to muffle your own hurt so Din would not be goaded, but you saw only black for several seconds and your knees almost crumpled beneath you. The slight sliver of brainpower you had left in the moment told you to propel yourself backwards. Your captor, off balance from the movement of breaking your arm, staggered back with you, now just at the edge of the cliff.

“No,” Din shouted, his voice strangled, his blaster faltering now. If he shot, he ran the risk of hitting you. And the knife was still clutched at your throat.

Your captor hissed and tightened his grip around your throat in retaliation, and you struggled to breathe for a few moments. “Move one more muscle and I’ll throw you over the ledge,” he barked at you before loosening his grip. The knife had cut into your neck again, drawing more blood.

Your eyes never left Din’s visor. You could not, of course, see his eyes behind it, but you could will your thoughts and feelings into your own gaze, directed as it was at him. In the brief second you had left, you tried to express with your eyes alone everything you’d never had the courage to tell him before.

Then- you pretended to crumple in your captor’s arms, ignoring the way the knife cut at you again in your new position. He cursed, trying to straighten you. You used the moment in which he was caught off guard to propel him backwards with all the strength you had left in your body. At the same moment, you heard the sound of a blaster.

There had been the smallest part of your brain that had been sure you might be able to catapult him off the edge without going with him. But that had been a fool’s dream.

You lost your breath as you tumbled backwards off the cliff’s edge, unable even to scream.

Your captor had already lost his grip and distantly you heard his scream behind you as he fell. Though you were falling fast to the rocky depths below, you felt suspended in the air, suspended in time, trying to cherish only the last sight you’d had of Din as he’d surged forward hoping to catch you before you fell. You closed your eyes before you hit the icy surface of the unforgiving waters below.

******

Din had seen your intent the moment it had entered your eyes and had immediately been filled with nothing but pure dread. He ran through the possibilities as quickly as he could, but it hadn’t been fast enough. He’d shot the blaster only a second too late. And though the shot had found its mark in the heart of your captor, you’d gone over the edge anyway.

Another strangled, inhuman cry left Din’s lips as he leapt forward towards the cliff’s edge. He reached the peak just as your body disappeared beneath the surface below. This time he took no time to think. He dropped his blaster and dived gracefully off the cliff’s edge, trying to use his momentum to fall into the same area of choppy water where you’d disappeared, blessedly far enough away from the rocks that would have killed you instantly.

The icy temperature of the water barely registered beyond Din’s suit as he flipped his helm’s light on. Din tried not to panic when he saw nothing but empty, rough waters. Cursing within his helmet, he propelled himself further downwards, searching desperately for the sight of you. He began to breathe unevenly as water filled his helmet and knew he would soon have to surface. He could not, he knew, surface without you and expect you to live.

That was when he saw a flash of the bright skirt you almost always wore. He could have laughed with relief that you dressed so flashily. Then he was propelling himself through the water. His heart began thundering again when he saw your face blank, your eyes closed, unconscious.

His arms came around your chest and then he was battling the rough water upwards, breaking the surface and pulling you along with him. The water immediately drained from his helmet, allowing him to breathe. The weight of his armor and the strain of holding you aloft made the journey back to the rocky surface difficult, but adrenaline at the thought of the mere possibility of losing you drove Din faster.

He pulled you along with him up onto a rock above the breaking waves. He ripped his gloves off, one hand fluttering down to check your pulse, the other at your nose to see if you were breathing. When he realized you were not, he did not hesitate-

Din wrenched off his helmet and dropped it carelessly on the rock beside him. He fought the feelings of panic wrenching through him as he leaned down, pinched your nose between his fingers and put his lips to yours. He’d dreamed so many times of your lips on his, but never like this. He cursed himself distantly for never acting on his desires before, for letting his fear dictate his feelings for you, which were clear here at the possible end of it all.

Then he was pumping his clenched hands down on the center of your chest before putting his lips back to yours, trying to breathe you back to life.

“Come on,” he was saying roughly, “come on.”

***

Suddenly, you began to cough and heave, water trickling out of your mouth; your eyes fluttered open briefly. They closed again but not before you’d seen the stranger bringing you back to life. A beautiful, chiseled face. A man with plush lips, dark stubble and a mustache. Deep soulful brown eyes.

You struggled to breathe in, struggled to hack the remaining water from your lungs as you half sat up. The stranger held his arm sturdily at your back.

“The Mandalorian,” you managed to speak through racking coughs, “is he alright? Where is he?” In your panic, you had not stopped to think who the stranger might be or how you’d arrived in his care.

The man did not respond, only clapped you on the back several times, trying to help you cough the water out.

When your eyes fluttered open again briefly, they landed on the soaking cape, hanging over the stranger’s shoulder, seemed to finally see the beskar shoulder piece. You gasped, choking briefly on the water still trapped in your throat.

“What-“ But then he was fitting the helmet swiftly back over his head. But not before you had seen the anguish in his gaze.

Immediately, you berated yourself inwardly. You should have kept your eyes closed. You should have- but you could not have known.

“Din,” you tried, but you silenced yourself, knowing he must be kicking himself.

Quiet and stoic as the day you’d met him, he lifted you into his arms, letting you hitch yours around his neck. Despite what had happened, you cherished being in his arms, curling into his chest, your head pounding from the fall, from your near death.

You were weaker than you’d realized and lost consciousness in Din’s arms again barely registering that he’d activated his jetpack.

When you awoke, you were cozy and warm and wrapped up in a swathe of blankets, your wet clothes gone. You blinked at the ship’s hull above you. You were back on the Razor Crest.

“Grogu,” you managed through your drowsiness.

“He’s alright,” Din’s voice came from the alcove just to the side of his bed, which you were now laying in.

You breathed a sigh of relief, but your breath hitched when you remembered what had occurred, what you’d seen, what Din had done.

“Din,” you breathed against your will. Likely he wanted nothing more than to be left alone, as remorseful as he no doubt was. His creed for your life? What a paltry exchange.

The thought brought tears to your eyes. As well as the thought that Din could only hate you now. How could he not?

But then he was at your side, his gloved hands hovering over you. “Are you alright?” Concern so deeply evident in his voice that it only made you want to cry harder.

“I-“ you managed, your voice choked. You grasped his hand since he held it there just at your eye level, and he sunk down to one knee, tightening his grip around your own. “Din, your creed.”

For just a single moment, he stiffened, but then took a shaking breath and relaxed. His other hand came up to stroke your forehead, then your cheek. “Don’t think about it. Just rest.” His voice was more gravelly than usual.

You swallowed through the dryness in your throat, distantly noting the bandages he must have applied to the wounds you’d sustained at the hands of your captor. Your eyes fluttered closed under his touch, worried if you kept them open, he’d leave your side. But his gloved hand continued its steady stroking of your cheek.

Tears threatened to spill from behind your closed eyes anyway. At the tenderness of it all. Of Din’s ability to forgive the unforgivable. Of what your presence in his life had caused him to forsake.

“You should have let me die,” you croaked before you could stop yourself. It was far from the right thing to say, but you meant it.

His breath hitched under his helm, and his fingers froze at your jaw, his other hand clenching yours tightly. “Don’t say that,” he muttered gruffly, his voice choked. 

Din was more emotional than you’d ever heard him, but you were sure it was because of the betrayal of his creed; you could not fathom that his grief might have anything to do with the fact that you’d almost died.

You spoke through the painful tightness in your throat. “I’m not worth it- You shouldn’t have- I’m sorry I caused this-“

You stopped talking when he released your hand to cup your whole face between both his hands. You opened your teary eyes in surprise but, of course, saw only your weepy reflection in his visor.

Din’s gloved thumb rubbed just beneath your lips. “I…I couldn’t- let you die.” The words seemed a struggle and he let them out haltingly - not as if he didn’t want to say them, but as if he didn’t know how. “I…” You heard him swallow beneath the helmet as your eyes darted all around his visor, wishing you could see his current expression, wishing you’d never seen his beautiful face at all. But then- “I care…about you…more than I can-“ He cut himself off, as if fearing he’d said too much.

You merely stared, hardly able to believe your ears. He couldn’t mean… Could he feel the same… The thought was too unbelievable to truly consider.

His grip on your face loosened. “I…” He sounded suddenly uncertain. “I understand you don’t- feel…the same. I just…”

But then you were gripping his wrist before he could withdraw his touch. You heard a sharp intake of breath beneath the helmet and realized your fingers had met the skin of his wrist. Your eyes fluttered sideways, drinking in the sight of his perfect skin, scars and all, just there beneath your fingers. When you brushed his wrist with your thumb, he let out a sigh and his hand tightened around your face. Your eyes darted to his helm then back and then you were leaning sideways and pressing your lips to his wrist.

You felt his pulse jump beneath your lips as you pressed another kiss to the inside of his wrist. When you looked back up at him, his helmet was tilted as he seemingly stared down at you.

“If-“ You licked your parched lips, swallowed with difficulty. “If I close my eyes, will you- Can I-…” You’d never found yourself, chatty as you tended to be, at such a loss for words. “Can I kiss you?” You managed. He froze and you opened your lips to take it back, terrified you’d said the worst thing you could have in the moment. But when he shifted to move, you lost your breath, wondering-

He went to take off his helmet without waiting for you to close your eyes.

“Wait,” you gasped, shutting your eyes tightly, just as you heard the whoosh of air that must have meant he’d acquiesced.

“You don’t have to-…”

And it was your turn to stiffen. The modulator had always been a given, and you’d never really thought twice about what his voice might have sounded like without the digital disruption.

It was husky and crackly, soothingly deep.

You found your breathing going shallow again when his hand, now ungloved, was back at your cheek.

“My creed,” he started, his voice rumbling somewhere deep within your chest, affecting you deeply. “My creed dictates that I- protect….my clan.”

Your breath hitched again, impossibly so.

“The promises I made when I received the helmet,” you heard a heavy thunk as he apparently put the item in question down. “There is more to my creed than just the helmet. A Mandalorian who cannot keep…his clan,” Those two words again; your stomach flipped of its own accord each time he said them, at the thought of what he might be implying. “A Mandalorian who cannot keep his clan safe…is not worthy of the helm he would wear.”

You startled when his bare finger ran across your lips soothingly.

“Grogu…” he began again, slowly, as if weighing the words. “Has seen my face. Do you know why?”

“He’s your son,” you breathed against his fingers, reveling in the way your lips brushed his fingers as you spoke.

“Yes,” his voice cracked on the syllable, but only just, and when he spoke again, he’d recovered. “My family. My clan.”

You swallowed hard again through the lump in your throat, pursing your lips to speak, to deny what you thought he might next say, not because you didn’t want it to be true, but rather because it was the only thing you wanted to be true and were too afraid that it was not to even entertain the thought. But his finger hovered just over your lips once more, silencing your attempted protest.

“You didn’t make me break my creed,” he promised. “I’ve been wanting to- I’ve wanted to see your face…for so long.”

You made a noise of protest now. “You see my face all the time.” Indignant when he got what you didn’t every single day.

“Without the helmet. Not through a visor.” His voice was heavy again, emotional.

It was not until then that you realized what he’d said. He’d wanted to see your face too. He-

“You-“

“You can open your eyes,” his voice was soothing, encouraging even.

“Are- are you sure?” You managed finally.

He let out a low chuckle that set your heart to racing faster than it did even when you were dancing nonstop in city squares. “I’m sure.” It was a promise.

You opened your eyes and your sigh was involuntary. You drank in the sight of every sharp angle and soft line of his face hungrily. His eyes were tender, but as he leaned down, there was a kind of hunger in them too.

This time, when your lips met, it was a different kind of life you felt him breathe into you. 

#the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #mando x reader #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #mando x you #mandalorian x you #din djarin x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #my stories #request #the1maddest1hatter #the mandalorian #din djarin #mando #mandalorian #reader

[starshine583]

New Girl on the Block (4)

(Y’all ready to read the next update??? Enjoy part four of this fic and if you’re interested, feel free to check out the mini series connected to this called the Journal Entries. It’s just little journal snippets from the two dorks that I decided to write for fun :D)

Ch.1 / Ch.3 / Ch.5

Chapter 4: Get to Know You

Marinette slipped on her white, non-flour-covered leather jacket and pushed her pigtails back so they wouldn’t be tucked into her outfit. She then smoothed out her pink dress with a smile, admiring the black flowers that she’d stitched along the bottom. This dress had been one of her stress-relieving projects, but it turned out quite well, in her opinion.

Once Papa had finished teaching her friends how to fold the dough, he put their croissants into the fridge to chill them and instructed everyone to go upstairs and wash up. Marinette dutifully took them up to her room where her personal bathroom was and taught them how to use the shower, but when she tried to lead one of them to her parent’s bathroom as well, they insisted that she take a shower there herself. 

“What kind of gentlemen would we be if we forced the ladies to wait on us?” Claude had said light-heartedly, though she could tell he meant it. Allegra’s smirk as she walked in the bathroom to take a shower first was proof of that. 

The notion had warmed Marinette’s heart, coaxing a giggle from her each time she thought about it. It might be hard to see sometimes, but Claude, Allan, and Felix truly were a considerate and chivalrous group of boys. 

Now, She’s finished her shower in her parent’s bathroom and gone back up to her bedroom, where Allegra, Claude, and Allan had been patiently waiting. Allegra was nice and clean again, wearing the long, purple shirt and black leggings that Marinette had given her, and Claude appeared to have just exited the shower, his damp hair sticking to his face and dripping across his borrowed, black and blue “O.K” shirt. Allan was still covered in flour.

Allegra smiled at Marinette from her spot on the chaise as she re-braided her long, golden blonde hair. “Thanks for the extra clothes, Mari! These are amazing.”

“Yeah!” Claude agreed enthusiastically, holding out his with a grin. “This shirt is awesome!”

Marinette glanced down to hide her blush. “I-It’s the least I could do.”

“We still appreciate it.” Allan replied.

“Oh!” Marinette said, suddenly thinking about the fact that Allan was still covered in flour. “Allan, do you want to use Maman’s shower? You don’t have to stand around waiting for Felix.”

That who she assumed was occupying the shower, anyway. The water was still running, and everyone but Felix was present. 

Allan waved a hand. “Nah, it’s fine. I’ll be getting a shower soon if Felix would hurry up.”

Marinette chuckled at Allan’s obvious call to Felix, even more so when Felix shouted back from the bathroom, “You’re the one that let me go first!”

“I didn’t know you would take a day and a half!” 

“That’s still your fault then, isn’t it?” Felix shot back.

Allan scoffed and crossed his arms, causing Marinette to offer her parent’s shower again out of guilt. She had been the one to throw flour on him, after all.

“Are you sure you don’t want to-”

The bathroom door swung open, effectively cutting Marinette off, and Felix stepped out with one hand on his hip and the other hand on the towel that was draped across his head. He shot Allan a glare, practically growling the words, “There. I’m out. Are you happy?”

“Delighted.” Allan responded sarcastically.

Marinette might have been concerned about the growing conflict had she not been focused on Felix’s outfit. Or rather, how well it suited him. The black, three-quarter-sleeved shirt that she’d given him, along with the plaid green, button-up shirt she’d provided to go underneath, clung to his waist, revealing his surprisingly slender figure. The dark grey jeans he wore in place of his dress pants didn’t fit the outfit exactly, but they worked well enough, and Marinette eagerly started taking mental notes for future adjustments.

Allan grabbed his clothes and walked into the bathroom, while Felix glared daggers at him until the bathroom door closed. 

“Woah~” Allegra crowed, easily breaking the tension. “You should wear casual outfits more often, Felix. They really suit you.”

Claude smirked. “No kidding. I swear you’ve worn the same suit for the whole two years we’ve known.”

Felix turned his glare to Claude with a scoff. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve worn plenty of suits, each one made differently.”

Allegra snorted. “That wasn’t.. That was not the point, Felix.”

Felix narrowed his eyes, the barest hint of confusion finding its way to his features, and Marinette took that opportunity to speak up.

“How’s the outfit? Does it fit alright?” She asked. Hopefully she can find the original measurements for the outfit if it does fit fine, because Felix was most likely going to become a regular customer. Maybe he wouldn’t hire her for actual commissions, but she might end up making something for him on impulse. (as you do)

Felix caught her eye, his glare slowly fading as he registered her question.

“The fabric is extremely comfortable, and the clothes fit perfectly.” He said after a moment. “You said you made these?”

She nodded. “With my sewing machine. I was thinking of putting a green paw print on the shirt too, but I haven’t gotten around to it.”

Felix hummed, idly pulling his towel from on top of his head to around his shoulders. “I see. Thank you for lending them to me.”

Marinette blinked, suddenly finding herself captivated by the way his hair fell across his face. Still being damp, various strands stuck to his forehead and cheeks, and he reached up to brush them away. This brought her attention to his face, which, for some reason, she hadn’t quite noticed before. The defined jawline, the subtle-yet-there cheek bones, the pointed nose- all of his features were sharp. Even his eyes held a silver tint to them that reminded her of steel. 

These observations dragged her to one, rather important revelation: Felix Culpa was actually a fairly handsome person.

“Marinette?” Felix said, drawing her from her thoughts. “Are you alright?”

A rush of heat swarmed her cheeks, and Marinette straightened. “W-what? I mean yes! Yeah, I’m totally fine, I.. yes.”

“Hey, speaking of clothes!” Claude piped up, graciously saving Marinette from her own awkwardness. “How’s my prince costume going?”

Marinette twirled around in her rolling chair and grabbed for her sketching notebook. A distraction was definitely something she needed right now.

“I’ve got a few different ideas, but you need to come tell which one you like best.” She explained as she flipped open the notebook.

Claude hopped up from the stray chest he’d been sitting on and practically bounced over to her seat. She let him scan each page, smiling when he started humming “Ooh’s” and “Aah’s”.

“I can only pick one?! But they’re all so good!” Claude remarked, almost exasperated.

Marinette chuckled. “Well.. I guess I can make all of them for you, but you at least need to choose which one I start on.”

Claude gasped. “You mean you’re going to make all of these for me?”

“It’s going to take a month or so to get them all done.” She warned. “But-”

Claude scooped her into a bone-crushing hug, briefly reminding her of her father. “Thank you, Mari! Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best!”

Marinette laughed and gave him a light pat on the arm. “You’re welcome.”

Her smile widened as Claude eagerly grabbed the notebook and ran back to his designated chest to look through the drawing again. It was nice to see someone who was also enthusiastic about fashion. She’d gotten tired of talking to people who simply didn’t understand the hype of creating unique styles of clothing. 

“You know he’s never going to leave you alone now, right?” Felix commented next to her.

Marinette offered him a glance as she said, “I think I can live with that.”

Felix shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

She smiled at that. Felix may be striking, but that didn’t have to change anything. Lots of people were striking. And lots of people remained friends despite that.

“Oh,” Felix muttered, seeming to remember something, “Where do you want me to put my clothes? They’re still in the bathroom because of Allan, but..”

“Uhm.. I think Maman said she was going to wash them.” Marinette answered. “She wanted to try to get them clean before supper for all of you.”

“Ah, supper.” Claude cut in, heaving a jokingly wistful sigh. “I can’t wait for that. If your mom’s croissants can taste that heavenly, then her full meals must be amazing.”

He sunk against the chest for emphasis, not realizing that there was a gap between the chest and the wall. The sudden weight threw the chest off balance, and it tipped forward, causing Claude to get jerked backwards. He flailed his arms briefly and yelped before crashing to the floor. The front of the chest hit the ground as well, and the impact popped it open, scattering various objects across the floor.

“Oh, Claude!”

“Are you okay?” 

The girls rushed to his side to help him up, but Felix shot him a flat look.

“First the kitchen and now her bedroom.” He said curtly. “Should we tear up the living room next? Or perhaps the dining room has more fragile items?”

Allegra rolled her eyes. “Felix, can you at least try to be sympathetic.”

“I am being sympathetic. Marinette doesn’t have the money to replace things at the drop of a hat like we do. It’s rude to behave so recklessly in her home.”

Marinette glanced up at Felix, not sure whether to find his words sweet or offensive. “Trust me, it’s fine. This chest is old anyway.”

Felix’s frown told her that he didn’t agree on the matter, but before he could argue further, the bathroom door swung open again.

“What happened?” Allan asked, his hair still dripping wet. “I heard the crash. Is anyone hurt?”

“Only my pride.” Claude groaned in response. He was sitting up now and rubbing his head as Allegra switched between scolding and coddling.

Allan sighed with relief. “Oh, good. You can’t hurt something that’s not there.”

“Hey!”

Marinette giggled at the comment. “Allan, how is your outfit? Do I need to make any adjustments?”

Allan glanced down at his clothes. She’d given him a maroon shirt with a blue heartbeat line in the center, a black and blue shirt to go underneath, and a pair of black jeans. He didn’t appear to be wearing the second shirt, though.

“Oh, they fit great.” He said, twisted his torso a bit to get a better feel for the new clothes. “I didn’t have time to put on the second shirt, though. I heard the crash and panicked.”

Marinette offered him a smile. “That’s fine. I can just put it back in the closet.”

Allan nodded and looked down at the mess. “So Claude spilled this chest?”

“Yeah, he was being an idiot.” Allegra remarked as she picked up one of the trinkets. “You know. Nothing new.”

“Wow. can you guys lay off for two seconds?” Claude huffed. He reached forward to pick up one of the objects as well, curiosity overtaking his annoyance. “What is all of this stuff, anyway?”

Marinette glanced at the miscellaneous objects to check- she had several trunks that acted as ‘junk drawers’ -and immediately cringed when she recognized a black hat with rainbow colors stitched along the bottom.

“Oh..” It was Adrien’s gift chest. She’d almost forgotten that she had it. “They’re, um.. They’re just crafts, really.”

“Just crafts?” Claude repeated, holding up a crocheted Ladybug doll. “These are awesome!”

Marinette watched them for a moment. “...do you want them?”

The group looked up in shock, and Marinette quickly added, “Y-You don’t have to take them! I’ve just.. Uh.. they’re like junk? I mean, not junk, but this is my junk chest.. Sort of. I’ve just been meaning to get rid of them. So if you want them, you can have them.” 

Allegra frowned. “Are you sure? It looks like you put a lot of effort into these.”

Marinette nodded. “Positive. Take whatever you want.”

Although hesitant at first, the group continued to look through the gifts, and little by little, they started to take some. A smile came to Marinette’s lips as she watched the pile of Adrien junk dwindle. She had spent a lot of time on making the presents, but there was no way she’d be giving them to Adrien now. So what was the point of keeping them in her room? To serve as a mocking reminder of how blind she had been while loving him? No thanks.

By the time they were done, the chest only had half the gifts it used to, and Marinette quickly decided that she would donate the leftovers once she got the chance. 

“Thanks for the stuff, Mari!” Claude said cheerfully, his hands full of various objects.

Allegra nodded, holding a few things herself. “Yeah, you really do spoil us.”

“Which is saying something, considering we’re rich.” Allan teased, pocketing the two items that he’d decided to snatch. 

Marinette chuckled. “You’re helping me more than I am you.”

She stood up and walked to the bathroom to grab the boys’ old clothes. “I’m gonna bring these down to Maman, but feel free to look around until I get back.”

The group voiced their agreements, and Marinette climbed down the trapdoor ladder with the pile of clothes in hand, feeling like another weight had been lifted off of her shoulders.

Getting rid of Adrien’s gifts was one more step towards happiness, and she couldn’t wait to keep walking.

~~~~~~

One can tell a lot about a person by their bedroom. How clean they were, whether they were sentimental, which things they found important- a bedroom could quite literally be considered a box in which someone stored their entire personality. That’s why Felix had been anticipating this part of the visit. Someone can be a master manipulator, but their room would always show their true selves. And it only took one look for Felix to know..

Marinette really loved the color pink.

Seriously, she had it everywhere. The walls, the furniture, the carpet- How was she not sick of the color by now? Felix was sick of it, and he’d only been there for about twenty minutes!

Pushing the pink thought aside, he continued poking around her room. Marinette had gone downstairs to pass his clothes off to her mother, so that gave him a bit of time to inspect the space unsupervised. Not that he was planning on doing anything scandalous. It merely gave him the opportunity of observing Marinette’s room on his own terms.

When she told him that her room was up in the attic, he’d been understandably shocked. The attic didn’t sound like a spacious place to sleep, let alone work on homework and other personal things. Seeing it now, though, Felix realized that that wasn’t the case. The attic was actually quite open. There was a desk, a closet, various chests, a bathroom, and she still had a good portion of the room empty. He wondered if that was thanks to the original size of the room or thanks to Marinette’s resourcefulness.

Her cleaning style wasn’t too bad, either. Don’t get him wrong, there were things scattered everywhere, but it was a specific type of scattered, like an organized chaos. He had a feeling that she knew where most of her necessities were. 

Felix moved to her desk, where most of the mess was focused. There were papers, sewing needles, scraps of fabric, and pencils spread across the surface. Her interest in fashion certainly shined through, as most of the papers were filled with various sketches and measurements. He found that admirable. When someone usually speaks of their ‘dream job’, they speak of it as a fantasy, one that they never intend to fully pursue, but Marinette was obviously reaching as high as she could to grasp her goal. She even had a mannequin in her room.

“Marinette’s room is so cool!” Claude exclaimed from the loft up top. “She even has a balcony!”

Felix glanced upwards, briefly setting the papers he’d been studying aside. There’s a balcony upstairs? He didn’t recall seeing a balcony on the way in.

“Claude, you have a balcony.” Allegra reminded him with an amused smile.

“Yeah, but mine only extends from the side of the building.” Claude defended. “This one’s on the roof!”

Ah, so that’s why Felix hadn’t seen it.

Allan frowned. “Really? Isn’t that a little dangerous?”

“It’s got a rail.” 

“Oh, okay. That’s fine then.”

Allegra chuckled as she brushed her hands against the hat on Marinette’s mannequin. “Marinette’s room is pretty neat, though.”

“I think it’s just Marinette who’s cool.” Allan remarked.

Allegra and Claude heartily agreed, and Felix nodded. “Cool” probably wouldn’t be the exact word that he’d use to describe her, but overall, it wasn’t far off.

“Can you believe we’ve only known her for a week?” Claude asked as he climbed down to their level. “It feels like we’ve known her forever already.”

“Yeah, but I think that’s just how she is.” Allegra smiled. “She draws you in and makes you feel like family.”

“Her parents are the same way.” Allan said. “You can really tell where she gets it from.”

“Where who gets what from?” 

Felix, along with the rest of the group, turned to the trapdoor, where Marinette was standing about halfway through. She didn’t have the clothes anymore, but she did have a tray of drinks.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Allegra said dismissively. “What are those?”

Marinette set the tray on the ground long enough to climb through and close the trapdoor as she explained, “Maman and Papa thought you guys might be thirsty, so she sent me up with a bunch of different drinks to choose from.”

“Sweet!” Claude grinned, swiftly walking over in case she needed help. “Do you have Dr. Pepper?”

Marinette smiled and turned the tray to reveal a deep red can of soda. “Yep! I know it’s your favorite.”

“You truly are a blessing.” Claude replied, grabbing the soda off of the tray.

Marinette giggled and brought the tray forward for the rest of them to pick. Allegra chose a pepsi, while Allan snagged a coke, and Felix grabbed the slim cup of coffee that sat to the side.

He took a sip of it, enjoying the warmth of the bitter liquid. It didn’t escape his notice that Marinette had brought up all of their preferred drinks. She even got his coffee right (Black with three sugars). 

Despite how scatter-brained she could be, Marinette still paid attention to details, which was impressive. Felix didn’t know anyone else who could space out during an entire conversation, yet remember the exact type of drink everyone ordered during lunch.

“So what do you guys want to do now? We still have about half an hour before supper is finished.” Marinette asked, setting the tray aside. 

Allan shrugged. “What do you have?”

Marinette thought for a moment. “Well, we have board games, card games, Mecha Strike 3-”

“Mecha Strike 3?” Claude perked up. “Yes, please!”

Marinette laughed. “Is everyone else okay with that?”

“Sounds great.” Allan smiled.

Allegra shrugged. “I’m fine with it.” 

Felix, being satisfied with his inspection for now, sat down on the chaise. “I’ll watch.”

The rest of the group huddled around Marinette’s computer while she turned it on, and after a bit of debating, they decided on ‘winner faces next player’ and started with Allan and Claude. Felix watched the first two games, just long enough to see Marinette cream Allan, before reverting back to his studious ways. He scanned the bedroom again, hoping to catch something new, when his gaze landed on the trunk that Claude had tipped over earlier. With everyone bustling around it, Felix hadn’t gotten a chance to sift through it, but now that they were occupied with Marinette’s game..

Felix shifted in his seat and re-opened the chest. It was only half full, as opposed to its previously overflowing contents, but that didn’t bother him. There were still plenty of things inside, such as shirts, figurines, hats, and other things. He pulled out a jacket and turned it in his hands, admiring the handiwork. The hood, along with the cuffs of the sleeves and zipper were pitch black, but the rest of the jacket was a deep red, save for the black spots that littered it. “Miraculous” was written on the back in cursive as well. Was this supposed to be based off of the Parisian superhero Ladybug? Why would she want to get rid of this? At the very least, she could make a profit by selling it.

What did she use to make this? The material is so soft.. Felix thought as he unzipped the jacket. It was completely black on the inside, save for some tiny, golden lettering near the section wear the pocket would be.

“To: Adrien

From: Marinette”

Felix frowned. How strange. Why would Marinette be giving away things that she made specifically for someone else? He dug through the chest some more, this time looking for names, and what he found was shocking. 

Almost every gift had the name ‘Adrien’ on it somewhere, whether it be a card or stitching or marker. Some gifts didn’t have a name, but at that point, Felix felt it was safe to assume that everything in the chest was supposed to be for this ‘Adrien’ person. 

That begged the question, though: Who was Adrien? And why would she create so many gifts for him just to give them away?

A small card stitched on the ear of a stuffed cat gave him his answer.

“Dear Adrien, 

Happy 19th birthday! It’s officially been five years since we’ve known each other. Isn’t that crazy? Anyway, I just wanted to say happy birthday (even though I’ve already said it) and that I’m really happy we got to meet. Enjoy the cat!

With all my love, Marinette”

Felix glanced up at Marinette, who was blissfully ignorant of his findings as she defeated Claude for the second time at Mecha Strike 3. Did she intend to use all of these as birthday presents? How many gifts were in there? Did she expect this person to have the same interests twenty years from now? He couldn’t decide if this level of planning was due to over-thinking or just plain obsession. Maybe both.

“Hey, Felix!” 

Felix flinched at the sudden call of his name, weirdly feeling as if he’d been caught in the act of some crime. He looked up to see Claude waving a controller at him.

“Are you sure you don’t want to play?” The brunette asked.

“Talk to me when you have chess.” Felix replied shortly, going back to the chest. He had hoped that seeing Marinette’s room would provide more answers to her life, but it only issued more questions. Did she have this amount of gifts for all of her friends or was Adrien special? If he was special, what way would it be? Was he possibly an ex-lover? She dated him for a while, and they had a recent falling out, which was why she was getting rid of the gifts. That would make sense.

“He just wants to talk.”

Her words from last week resurfaced in his mind. The person who chased her that day was the only one she reacted bitterly towards. Was Adrien trying to get back together with her? 

Was he the reason she left her old school in the first place?

My, my Dupain-Cheng. Felix thought. Aren’t you just full of secrets?

Tag List:  @artbyknigit @athena452 @nickristus-dreamer @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @arsaem @abrx2002 @neakco @pawsitivelymiraculous @too0bsessedformyowngood @nathleigh @lusicing @officiallydarkgeek @all-mights-asscheeks @tbehartoo @woe-is-me0 @raeuberprinzessin @lazuli-11 @miss-chaos27 @trippingovermyfeet @sadpotatoondrugs @ladybug-182 @jaggedheart11 @marinahrasauce

#felinette #Felix Culpa #Marinette #New Girl on the Block #Rosemary AU #Quantic Kids

[the-void-i-scream-into]

White Tulips - Cut Chapter

Hey Everyone. I hope who ever reads this is happy and healthy. So I wrote this idea for my Han Seojun x Kang Sujin fanfic but it didn’t really fit the story at the time, even though I had set it up in the published story twice, so I cut it. But I still loved this idea so I wanted to share it here. 

I would have shared it earlier but I was trying to get the Joseon Era AU started before that but man, have I been struggling with that story. Writing historic fanfic is HARD! Anyway I still wanted to leave this here. Hope you all like it. 

Pairing: Kang Sujin x Han Seojun

Word Count: 1.7k 

Rating: Slightly Mature... or maybe PG 15? I dunno. I am bad with ratings

i.

For all of his flaws, Han Seojun had one thing going for him. He was unashamed. Unashamed of his slight lack of academic intelligence, unashamed of his troublemaker persona, and definitely unashamed of losing to Kang Sujin at everything imaginable.

“Ah-nee, how could you get so good at basketball?” He panted, pulling up his shirt to wipe his brow, not because he was sweaty, but because he wanted Sujin to stare at his abs.

“I was always good, Han Seojun.” Sujin said proudly, holding the basketball by her waist as she unabashedly eyed his abs. “I told you, I was just off my game that day.”

“You were distracted by my face.” Seojun smirked.

“Of course, I was. I had a massive crush on you.” She grinned, kissing him.

“Ooooh, chagi, you had a crush on meee.” Seojun teased like a school boy who had discovered her most embarrassing secret.

“We’re practically married.” Sujin pointed out dryly, the fact that they had been together for over a year now.

“Still.” Seojun grinned.

“Doesn’t change the fact that I finally did beat you.” Sujin countered.

Seojun didn’t tell her that he had let her win today. Her loved her competitiveness and the giddy way she grinned when she won. If Seojun could, he would let her win everything her heart desired. But this he would never tell her, mostly because she would kill him. And Seojun really wanted to live, especially now that he had someone else to live with.

“Technically, we’re at a draw. You only cancelled out your win from back then.” He stated. The two had started packing their things. Sujin dumped her water bottle in their gym bag.

“Oh yeah? Well, I’m about to win this argument.” Sujin grinned an evil grin, leaning closer. She spoke in a sing-song voice, “I know your big secret.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” Seojun smirked. He was an open book, there was nothing he ever hid from anyone. And even if he did, there was nothing he was ashamed of.

Sujin took out her phone and pressed play.

Is that true? Yes! Okey dokey yo,

Is that true? Yes! Okey dokey yo

Really? Yes! Okey dokey yo

Say la la la la la la la la la la la

“Told you I would find out.” Sujin’s evil grin spread wide as Seojun’s smug smile wavered.

Oh no.

It turned out that here indeed was one thing that Han Seojun was ashamed of.

“Ya, Kang Sujin!” Seojun went for her phone but she bounced out of his way, skipping backward.

“What’s wrong, Seojun-ah? Don’t like this song?” She asked in mock innocence.

Oh God, the horror. The pain, the anguish! The embarrassment!

“Ya! Come here!” Seojun ran after her and she sprinted away from him, running around the court. “Stop playing that!”

“No way. This is my new favorite song.” Sujin shouted back breathlessly as she ran full speed. Seojun caught up with her and she squealed and laughed as he held her by the waist.

“Are you not going to stop?” He didn’t lunge for her phone. Instead opted to tickle her, making her squeal some more, laughing uncontrollably.

“I cave! I cave!” She said, her eyes tearing up from the laughing.

Seojun took her phone and turned off the song. Sujin was red from laughter and Seojun felt an ache to kiss her then and there. But he didn’t want to encourage her triggering the PTSD he had from that embarrassing incident in high school.

“Lim Jukyung is such a traitor. I can’t believe she told you.”

“I’m your girlfriend. Of course, she told me. Shouldn’t I know you were dancing around half naked in front of another woman?” Sujin wiped the tears from her eyes, still shaking from the aftershocks of laughing.

“Aish! That was so embarrassing. I never want to remember that happened.” Seojun admitted, going red as he thought back to when he had been dancing around in his house, wearing nothing but his underwear and had failed to notice that Lim Jukyung had been there with his sister the entire time.

“Waeeee? I find it funny.” And then she burst out laughing again. Han Seojun walked away in a huff. He couldn’t face the embarrassment any longer, especially not in front of Sujin.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Sujin chased after him.

Han Seojun would have buried the incident again, along with his memory of that song but then there it was again.

That dreaded song.

They were having lunch with everyone; Jukyung, Suho, Taehoon, Suah and his squad with Chorong, when suddenly, he heard the tune faintly.

Is that true? Yes! Okey dokey yo,

Is that true? Yes! Okey dokey yo

Seojun thought he was imagining it. But then Sujin took out her phone and the song played clearer. That damn woman had set it as her ring tone.

That dreaded song.

“Oops, getting a call. Be right back.” Sujin said with just enough pretend innocence that it passed off as sincere to others, but he knew. He knew.

Han Seojun glared at Jukyung accusingly and she made an apologetic face. Luckily, no one else seemed to pick up on Seojun’s discomfort. Suho did give him a pointed look but Suho knew that he did not have the privilege of making fun of Seojun the way Sujin did. And that wasn’t a matter of Seojun getting mad at him. It was a matter of Kang Sujin destroying anyone who would say one syllable against her boyfriend.

“Sujinnie,” Seojun pouted like a child that night as they made dinner, “I don’t like your ringtone.”

Her phone had been ringing all day. A little too frequently, Seojun had noticed. It was almost as if Sujin had scheduled all of her calls to today just to mess with him.

“Oh, should I change it?” She asked causally, “Okay, you pick something you like.”

Seojun grinned and padded over to the counter, setting her ringtone to one of his songs.

That night Seojun had gone to sleep thinking that chapter of his embarrassing event was over. He dreamed peacefully of being on stage and serenading Sujin with the songs he had written for her. But then his dream was interrupted with that jingle again.

Is that true? Yes! Okey dokey yo,

Is that true? Yes! Okey dokey yo

Seojun woke up with a gasp. No, it wasn’t just his dream. The song was actually playing. Sujin stirred and shut off her alarm.

Her alarm that was set to play Okey Dokey.

Nooooooooooooooooooooooo! Seojun screamed in his head, cursing the storm he imagined himself drowning in. He loved Kang Sujin. He could never deny her anything, even if it led to his own torment.

But why, why out of everything she had to choose this.

Sujin got up, and didn’t even notice Seojun stuff his head in his pillow as she went to the bathroom.

“Hyung, are you okay?” One of his bandmates asked upon seeing Seojun’s dark circles and dead expression.

“Huh? I’m okey, dokey.” He responded dreamily. The band member backed away in concern.

ii.

Ever since they had gotten close, Seojun had stopped challenging her. True, they would still tease and play the push-pull game but it wasn’t like it had been before. Before they had felt like equals. Now it felt like Sujin had all the power and oddly enough, she didn’t like that. She worried it might get too boring for Han Seojun. She worried it wasn’t good for him to coddle her so much. He needed to have just as much of a say in things as she did.

She had meant the song to just stir some new challenge between them. He would respond with embarrassment and demand that she gets rid of the song. He would finally set a line for her; a restriction and she would comply to and balance would be restored. No longer would she be the one dictating everything.

But it had the opposite effect. Sujin hadn’t realized how it was torturing him till she saw him jump when they passed by a store that had been coincidentally playing the song.

“It’s following me.” Seojun had hissed. Sujin became worried she had gone too far. She hadn’t realized how much the incident had affected him.

Fortunately, Sujin knew what to do.

Come home early tonight. Sujin’s text came.

“Is everything okay?” He asked the second he entered. Sujin never asked him to be home early, knowing his busy schedule. He was lucky that his other band mate had gotten ill, and practice had been cancelled.

“Yeah, gimme a minute!” Sujin called from their bedroom.

Seojun threw his jacket on the sofa and unbuttoned his sleeves, getting ready to make dinner. But then he froze.

Is that true? Yes! Okey dokey yo,

Is that true? Yes! Okey dokey yo

He groaned, “Aaaaah, chagiiii! Geuman-hae already.” He turned and then froze again, dropping his phone on the floor.

In the door frame of their bedroom stood Kang Sujin wearing leopard print camisole and a blue bathrobe, striking an exaggerated dancing pose. The camisole reached just below her thighs. The rest of her long, long, long legs were available for him to gawk at.

Seojun gulped. Good God.

You ready?

I'm ready

Yea, okey dokey yo

Sujin began dancing to the song just like he had, singing along as she moved through the hallway with the graceful movements of a more practiced dancer. It was funny but all too captivating at the same time.

Is that true? Yes! Okey dokey yo,

Is that true? Yes! Okey dokey yo

She came in and danced her way to the fridge, taking out a water bottle, and pouring it over her head.

Really? Yes! Okey dokey yo

Say la la la la la la la la la la la

She didn’t have the chance to continue as Seojun picked her up in his arms. She squealed in joy as he kissed her.

“Ah, Kang Sujin that’s the sexiest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” He said, leaning her over as she laughed.

Seojun forgot all about the song as he bridal carried a squealing Sujin to their room. They both fell down on the bed, laughing. Sujin ran a hand through his hair.

“Hey, Sujinnie. Guess what underwear I’m wearing today.” Seojun grinned.

#true beauty #true beauty kdrama #true beauty soojin #true beauty fanfiction #kang sujin #kang soojin #Kang soojin and Han seojun #Kang Sujin Fanfiction #han seojun #han seojun fanfiction #seojun x sujin #seojun x soojin #park yoona #hwang inyeop #honestly Park Yoona and Hwang In Yeop should be in a drama as the leads

[evening-starlight]

Daddy’s Best Friend

Tag List is open! Comment or DM to be added.

All Works Master List

DBF Master List

12

Word Count: 1992

    The pile of clothes at the end of the bed seems impossible to sort as Amaris searches for her shirt. Her hands shake, and her mind yells at her. She said it would only be once, so why has she been in Tom's bed every day for the last week?

    "Here, your shirt," Tom says as he hands Amaris her ripped Metallica shirt. She didn't listen to the band much anymore; they were a little too heavy for her. She thanks him with a small smile and throws it on, finding her blue shorts quickly after. "You know, you don't have to leave so fast," Tom states, leaning against his bedpost. He hated seeing her leave so quickly after; it sent dread and sadness throughout his body. "We're still friends."

    Amaris can't help the heavy sigh that passes her lips. "Are we Tom? We haven't done friendly things since we started this mess. All we do is fuck," She bites, making her way out of his bedroom. It felt suffocating in there. Like all her evil deeds were ganging up to end her then and there. She didn't mean for the words to sound bitter, but it was true.

    Tom follows her out. "Then let's do something today. It's only noon. We have the whole day. Let's go bowling or something. Let's hang out, Mari. Let me show you we're still friends." Tom begs. He didn't want to lose her as a friend, which is why he hid these feelings for so long. It felt like his worst nightmare was happening before his eyes, and it had only been a week into the affair.

    He knew she was still with Armel, but he didn't care. He had her too, and he didn't mind sharing when she came to him to finish the job Armel couldn't. However, the jealously was nagging at him, and he had to continuously remind himself that this was what he wanted.

    "Fine. Armel and Juno are in classes, and I don't feel like dealing with Danny's drama." Tom smiles, stepping forward to kiss Amaris. She puts her hand up as a shield. "Strictly friends, Thomas." He sighs and chooses to wrap his arms around her shoulders in a friendly hug.

    "Deal. So bowling?" He asks. "Museum? I have no preference." Amaris thinks what the least romantic option would be.

    "Bowling," She states, pulling out of Tom's hug. It was public and loud, not a typically romantic place. She eyes him up and down, lingering on his shirtless torso a second longer than was platonic. "But I think you'll need to put a shirt on." She giggles as Tom flexes in typical bodybuilder poses.

    "What? Think you'd get too distracted by these guns?" He teases, flexing his biceps.

    "More like blinded by your pale skin," Amaris quips back. Tom fakes shock but can't hide the laugh bubbling in his belly. It felt good to joke around as friends again. Amaris could almost forget that she was slowly breaking Armel's heart. Almost.

    Tom holds the door to the bowling alley open for Amaris. The drive to the destination was full of jokes, singing, and everything they used to do when strictly friends. Amaris stays behind Tom, looking around for any fame hogs to steer clear of.

    Wherever Amaris went, she had to worry about someone using her to get famous or selling photos to the press. Of course, her being out with Tom wasn't anything new. The tabloids knew they were friends from a young age. But now that she's secretly sleeping with him, she continued to shift from foot to foot, heart pumping with exhilaration. She was out in public with her sideman, and no one knew but them.

    The pair sit in front of their lane, tying up their bowling shoes. "You still bowl with a ten, right?" Tom asks, standing up from his seat. Amaris confirms and goes to set their names in the tracker. She puts Tom under Tommy and hers under Mari. She wasn't the most creative when it came to nicknames.

    The first few rounds go by quickly, both adults focusing on dusting off their bowling skills. They used to bowl together a lot when Amaris was younger. This is the place he would take Amaris when she couldn't stand being a daughter of a millionaire much longer. Bowling was one of the few activities she had that made her feel like an average person again. At least for the duration of the game.

    "Take that, Maria," Tom jokes, finally getting a strike. He doesn't know where the nickname Maria came from, but it's only said during bowling. Amaris flips her friend off and gets set for her next bowl. When all pins are set up, she gets into her stance, focusing all her energy on trying to beat Tom.

    She pulls her arm back, about to let go when Tom's foot collides with her butt, throwing her off balance. The ball slowly rolls into the gutter. Amaris turns around to yell at Tom, stepping back when he's closer than expected. "That's a party foul," She whines.

    "Oh well," Tom says, walking back to his chair smugly. His roguish smile plastered on his perfect face as he takes a seat, leaving Amaris flustered.

    "You're an asshole, Hiddleston," She pouts, going back to the ball return. Tom chuckles and crosses one leg over the other. He felt proud of his actions. Amaris was a better bowler than he was, so he plays dirty when he can. It was also a mild excuse to touch her ass in public. It was the little wins for him.

    The joke was on Tom, though. After his little stunt, Amaris set out to obliterate the man and scored nothing but strikes and spares from then out. Tom steps up to the lines with an exaggerated pout. It was his last bowl, and he had to get a spare with split pins if he was going to try to make the embarrassing difference slightly less embarrassing.

    Amaris falls into a fit of giggles when Tom's ball ends in the gutter, hitting neither pin. Tom stalks over, not offended but feeling a swell of pride at the fact that he made her laugh this hard, all on his own. "Think something's funny, do you, Mari?" He asks hands on hips. The teasing was his favorite part of their dynamic, and he's thankful to all things good that it's back.

    "You bowl like an infant," Amaris continues to giggle, clutching her stomach. The last time she laughed this hard was when Juno slipped off their barstool after one glass too much and could only mumble an incoherent sentence about the 'stupid stool moving when I need it.' Amaris may have been tipsy as well. "I could bowl better from the womb," She continues.

    They both knew the joking and berating was good fun. It's just how Tom and Amaris were. They teased and fool around with each other until one cracks and gushes about loving the other. As friends, of course.

    Tom plops down in the seat beside her, crossing his arms. He could never be mad at her. Especially when she's laughing so hard she has to cover her mouth to muffle snorts. Those were Tom's favorite sounds. Sure, having Amaris scream his name was heavenly, but her snorts meant she felt safe and happy in her surroundings. He can't help but feel his smile widen at the fact that he's her safe spot.

    Amaris lays her head on his shoulder after her laughter dies down. "I'm pretty sure you find yourself funnier than you find me," Tom laughs, resting his arm across her shoulders. She nods, falling into another small fit of giggles.

    "'from the womb,'" She quotes herself. Amaris clears her throat as she sits straighter to look at Tom. "You know I love you, Tom," The words were so innocent, and she's said them to him before, so why did it feel different this time? Her cheeks burn, and her ears ring as if the words rang a bell right in her ear. "But please never take up professional bowling."

    "What do you mean? I could be the comparison person. 'And here we have average Joe to show you exactly how hard this dreaded spot, that's not really a sport, is,'" Tom jokes. Amaris giggles again, shaking her head to the man. "Keep laughing, and I'll throw you down the lane," Tom threatens lightly.

    "Don't threaten me with a good time, Tom," Amaris says, smiling widely at her best friend. It felt like all the guilt and troubles she's felt since Armel came to New York continue to fade into background noise when she's with Tom. He made everything feel brighter and lighter for her. Amaris felt like she could breathe for the first time when she's with him.

    "What? Sliding down the alley?" Tom asks, shifting to look at her better. She was the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. Amaris's blonde hair was sticking to her face caused by the sweat, her smile was brighter than a thousand suns, and her eyes were like nothing he's seen before. They held so much joy that Tom forgot what sorrow was. Amaris nods. "Why not?" Tom asks, standing up from his spot, offering a hand to Amaris.

    "What?" Amaris asks in shock. She didn't think Tom would want to do something so juvenile with her, especially in public where anyone could see them making fools of themselves. Tom pulls her out of her seat.

    "Life's not fun if you take yourself too serious, Mari," Tom says, backing towards the lane. "You said you wanted to do this, so let's do it. I'll even go first."

    "Are you peer pressuring me?" Amaris asks, crossing her arms. The smirk she wears gives away that she was going to go after Tom anyways.

    Tom nods, a mockingly serious expression on his face. "Absolutely. Is it working?" Tom asks, waiting for Amaris's cue to embarrass himself in front of everyone. Not that he genuinely cared. They'd be a page story for one print, and everyone would forget.

    "You know I crack under pressure," Amaris says. Tom takes that as a yes and turns towards the lane. He takes a running start and maneuvers to slide down the alley on his belly.

    The disappointment he felt when he doesn't slide far makes its way onto his features. His feet weren't past the black line of the lane. Amaris stands behind him, giggling up a storm.

    Tom shuffles over to her, shoulders slumped, and head hung low. "Good luck," He wishes, patting Amaris on the back. She starts running from where she's at and makes it only an inch further than Tom did.

    Amaris jogs over to him, already seeing the staff discussing what to do about them. "That was extremely disappointing, and I think we're about to get kicked out," She laughs, gesturing to the staff. Tom laughs and hurries to sit down, taking off his bowling shoes. Amaris follows suit.

    This was one of the best days she's had since being home. It felt freeing to be out with Tom and not worry about anyone else but him. Her cheeks were growing sore from all the joy showing itself on her face. But the smile was only the tip of the iceberg. Her heart was pumping, and she felt like she was vibrating and needed an outlet for all the emotion. It was almost too much for her small frame to handle.

    Tom felt similar. He enjoyed spending alone time with Amaris. He didn't have to worry about business or what he hadn't done. Amaris helped Tom focus on what he is doing. And what he is doing is having the time of his life sliding down alleyways with the woman he loved with all his heart. As a friend, of course.

Taglist: @queenofallhobos​ @kingtwhiddleston​ @cynic-spirit​

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddelston imagine #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #i got 99 problems and tom hiddleston could fix everyone of them #twhiddleston #tom hiddleston story #story #og #oc #original #original content #original charcter #daddy's best friend #tom hiddleston au #au #alternate universe #paris #study abroad story #affair #love affair #love story #love #romance #ya #y/a #young adult

[aphrodite-would-be-proud]

I just read the Erwin date scenarios and it’s so hood AGH could you please do one for armin? Plz 😚

You read my mind👀 ngl I think about Armin each time I write something for Erwin, despite them being alike i like to compare the differences and think they have different tastes and love languages.

Erwin strikes me a more act of services and gift giving guy while Armin would definitely go for words of affirmation and quality time.

Type of dates with Armin PT.1 {pt.2 in masterlist}

{ Armin x reader | tw: none | fluff, romance | modern }

{ "in bloom" by Abbott Fuller Graves 1859–1936 }

Ideal dates : these are dates he plans up ahead, makes sure they go smoothly and you're both are having fun. He really looks forward to these dates, they're like an event for him. He saves them up for important occasions like your anniversary, valentine's day, birthday, etc.

1. Spending a full day on the beach: when i say a full day I mean it, he's driving you there really early in the morning while you're struggling to stay awake in the passenger seat. He doesn't even need coffee he's running on 100% pure determination and will.

You'd arrive before anyone there, to get the best spot of course. It's close enough to the sea that you can feel the humidity of the water in the air, yet far enough from the rest of the beach that other people won't bother you.

He'd understand if you were too sleepy to help him set things up, he'd just kiss your forehead before letting you go back to sleep, promising he'll get you something to drink when the stores open.

You wake up to the smell of your favourite hot drink, just around 8am. The sun is up and the air is refreshing, you can hear the quiet chatter of people far away just arriving here. You sip your drink as Armin guides you to the small comfortable space he made, proudly showing off his work.

Please praise him and give him a kiss on the cheek, he will melt.

The rest of the day is spent with you two swimming lazily in the water, feeling the warm sunlight on your skin. Collecting whatever pretty seashell you see, using some to decorate the sandcastle Armin built with you. He takes a pictures of you at seemingly random moments, he promises to show you when he devolps them later.

You help him dry his hair afterwards, he take you to get ice cream. Despite getting you one too, he still ends up sharing his own with you, and if you're up for seconds he'd happily oblige.

When night falls and the people began leaving, the waves of the ocean get a little higher, wind turning colder. Don't worry, Armin thought about that, that's why he brought blankets.

He'd wrap you both in the same one, even holding you close to him, it's for warmth he says and yet he seems like he was looking forward for this. You help him in making a small bonfire, he brought marshmallows.

The rest of the night is spent with you laying against him while huddled in a blanket, looking at the heavens above and the constellation of the stars.

He takes your hand in his, guiding your finger to where polaris is. "It never changes" he says "no matter what" and from that star, he guides you through the formation of the little dipper.

Just right under it, directly under the polaris, begins the big dipper, a close replica to its little sister.

You spend hours like this, looking at the stars as new formations come and go with the time. You were early enough to catch Aries as it was leaving, pleiades, the seven sisters shining brightly next to it.

And just after midnight it was Sirius turn to say goodbye. That's when both of you decided to call it a night, he hugged you close to him, you could feel his heartbeat slowing down, he was oh so warm and tasted just like chocolate and marshmallows when you kissed goodnight.

2. Going on an adventure and trying new things: Armin has the need to try new things and gain new experiences, despite being someone who prefers small groups of friends and getting lost in a book than socialising. It's something that's been a part of him since he was a child, he wants to experience what the world has to offer and won't say no despite how utterly terrifying it can be to him.

And he wants to have those experiences with you, to share his love for the unknown with you, to see your reactions and share his own thoughts. The only thing that's better than going on adventures to him is going on adventures with you.

An adventure could be anything really, it could be going diving underwater or going to that creepy looking supermarket that never closes, you never know. An adventure is an adventure after all. The possibilities are endless.

So don't be surprised when he asks for you to go with him sky diving for his birthday despite knowing how terrfied he is of heights and how even a carnaval ride can make him sick.

Good or bad he doesn't care, he just wants to try and learn everything. He's full of curiosity and surprises that you'd never get bored, although a good thing about him is that he never is unprepared.

Yes he will take you on seemingly dangerous adventures but know that he really deeply thought about this before hand and is prepared for all the different scenarios that could happen, he likes the unknown but he's smart and cautious on how to approche it.

Not to mention that a single adventure can leave him satisfied for a long time before craving a new rush, probably once or twice a year. Just frequent enough to be something to look forward to but not too frequent that it becomes boring or too repetitive, he manages to keep that balance and walk on that thin line.

3. Hot air ballon ride: just imagine, it's early autumn, the weather is just right to wear those cozy yet good looking clothes, the earth seems like it's turning slower than usual as the trees change colours.

Around sunrise or sunset, both of you are high up in the air, the sun clearly in view with the golden clouds surrounding it. The world managing to look so small yet so vast at the same time.

Armin is wearing his favourite sweater and scarf combo, he's holding your hand in his pocket to keep it warm. It's just you and him isolated from the rest of the world like other people dont exist anymore, and strangely he's okay with that, at peace even.

He brings a camera and captures how the sun reflects in your eyes, how the chilly air makes you rub your hands together for warmth and how utterly breathtaking you look.

Beautiful, gorgeous even, these are the only thoughts in his mind at that moment.

And so Armin made a promise to himself that in the far future, when he wants to be even closer to you, to vow his life to yours, he'd propose on a hot air balloon.

But as much as he likes staying up in the air with you being his angel, the process of booking a ride is much more complicated and time consuming than he originally thought. Meaning he doesn't get to enjoy these rare heavenly moments as he wants to.

He needs to make reservations in advance, not to mention how important it is to choose a trustworthy company. Lastly how rides depend on the weather conditions, needing to reschedule if the weather takes a turn to the worse.

4. Visiting the aquarium or planetarium: he's just a boy with oceans for eyes and stars in his smile, can you really blame him for gravitating towards these places? Or for diving too deep in knowledge about the sky above and sea below?

Whenever the weather is too harsh for a beach trip or the sky is too cloudy for a stargazing night, these two places are his to go backups.

He's memorised the place like the back of his hand, no need for a map. Want to see the shark tanks and how they're doing? He'll take you there and introduce to them and the silly nicknames he gave them. Or how about saying hello to the dolphins who'll show off some moves just for your attention, or maybe you miss seeing the adorable penguins wobble around?

He knows endless facts about each fish kind, he makes it seem so fascinating and the way he phrases the information and coats them in milk and honey makes it impossible for you not to engage.

You both could have a slow with few words spoken walk and it still be as interesting, he'd even make special playlists to listen to while walking around and sharing his earphones.

Meanwhile at the planetarium, sometimes in the early mornings you'd run into kids just arriving for their school trip. Racing each other to the solar system panel and looking in amazement when the stars show begins. You and Armin have a nostalgic feeling when watching them, yet when you look at each other you remember how good it feels like to be grown and have someone special.

You never could get bored of seeing the stars, especially not with Armin.

5. Trying a new kind of art: one time you asked him what does he think the meaning of art is, what even is art?

"Art is communication" he said.

Armin has a deep love and appreciation for all kind of art, from classic oil canvas paintings to old greek sculptures. He doesn't pick a side, he likes both the modren and classic.

Music is art, writing is art and even making pottery is a form of art too. He wants to experience it, not for a need to acolmplish something or to rival Shakespeare, but for a need to communicate his emotions in a more subtle and personal way.

Like a secret language only he can decipher the meaning of, after all he was the one to create it.

Whenever he tries a new form of art, his usual fear of failure and absurdly high expectations actually go out the window. There isn't good and bad art, there's just different levels of communication and different styles.

So to him, the act of bringing you both some watercolours and cotton papers to paint on for a date is incredibly intimate, that's his true feelings and emotions he's showing you. But don't worry, he isn't here to take the whole thing seriously, he's actually playful and mellow most of the time.

Or maybe he'd like to make pottery with you, an excuse to put his hands around yours while sitting intimately close, maybe even give your shoulder a couple kisses while you shape the vase you agreed on making.

The next day, you find the finished vase near the window with a sunflower arrangements inside.

It also could be you two sitting next to each other, working together on a page of an adult colouring book or maybe to each one his own book. He'd hog the color blue most of the time so watch out, and don't lend him yours because he will hog it too.

Or maybe as a fun past time, you'd both attempt to make poetry, expect you're getting more and more drunk on the fruit flavoured beer he brought with him. You had fun laughing while reading what you came up with the next morning.

6. Going fruit picking in summer: it's his favourite way to celebrate the arrival of his favourite season, wear something light, pack some lemonade and go enjoy what mother nature has to offer.

You two would walk around in the fields, he's wearing a straw hat to block the sun, he thinks it looks better on you. Both of you looking at the fruits waiting to be picked, choosing the really unique shaped ones, the colourful ones and the especially delicious looking ones.

You might meet some small friends along the way, like a couple ladybugs that were crawling up Armin's arm. Two butterflies dancing in the air and even a frog that's taking a walk from its lake home nearby.

Going home that day with baskets full of different fruits waiting for your use, Armin and you discuss all the different ways you could use them for, like making delicious smoothies, or maybe saving them for baking a pie or cake. Maybe cutting them in small bites and covering them with different kinds of chocolate, maybe just making a fruits salad to enjoy while Armin reads you a book

Or maybe, maybe just washing them and eating them raw. Yeah that option sounds the most appealing after a day of walking through fields in the sun.

He'd feed you some, push them against your lips and smile when your eyes subtly light up at the sweet taste....maybe a kiss after so he could taste it too?

#in the garden #you wouldn't believe me if i told you how long it took to find the name of that painting my god #it's one of his iconic paintings belonging to collection yet i had to go to fucking twitter just to find out it's name becau #googl was being useless and Wikipedia links for his work were outdated and didn't work anymore #it took me so long #armin arlet x reader #armin headcanons #armin x reader #armin x y/n #armin arlert #armin reader #armin aot #Armin #armin🕯 #date ideas #aot #aot x y/n #aot x reader #snk #snk x reader #snk x you #snk x y/n #fluff #fluff🕯

[pluviophile-bookworm]

High School Musical: The Musical: The Series: The Rewatch pt.3

Ok, full disclosure: I should not be doing this right now. But I've been thinking about it since yesterday and, well, I reckon I can go over 1x4 and 5, and then move on to my actual work. So here we are. I'm really, really excited for these two, so without further ado, I'll dive right into:

1x4: It's hard to believe that I couldn't see... the majority of what happens in this episode when I first watched it

Why is Nini such a pro at making a scene with whoever her current boyfriend is in the middle of a public place? I mean, I get it that she's upset about EJ going through her phone — who wouldn't be — but maybe - and this is just a friendly suggestion — she could try and discuss that in private, not start a shouting match within view of all their classmates. Just saying.

'Ricky would never steal my phone' — well, perhaps not, but he's not quite above deleting stuff from it, either... I wonder if whoever is writing this show knows that there are many other ways to make a relationship unhealthy... it's not funny anymore. Just repetitive.

Ahhh Natalie and her emotional support hamster! At least there's one good thing about this scene.

Sure, Ricky, blame Big Red for the fact that you misplace your stuff... a very nice best friend he's got, indeed.

Gosh, everything is so awkward and there is just so much tension all over the place — Ricky's parents, then EJ and Nini, and then Carlos just being oblivious to the fact that they just broke up... you know, that last part just made me laugh. And then Ricky's reaction to his parents legally separating just broke my heart. That boy's been through too much.

Big Red being completely clueless about theatre terms is super funny and endearing, but let me just put myself in his shoes for a sec. He's followed his best friend into a badly thought-out scheme to get back together with his ex, got dragged into joining the crew, and is now expected to know what everything is. I would not put up with that... ok, who are we kidding, I'm a massive pushover and would put up with anything, but my point is... he shouldn't have to. At least people are doing the bare minimum to help him learn and nobody's laughed at him for not knowing. That's the good thing about this crew.

Ok, so I have posted about my thoughts of their take on What I've Been Looking For before, back when the episode was brand new, so I won't go into detail about that. In short, I think they've got the arrangement all wrong considering that it is a plot point in the original movie, but... the execution is funny. The scene is about Nini and EJ's post-breakup tension and it shows. I just kind of wish now Miss Jenn had pulled Nini out and put Gina in, even just for this rehearsal — and I might or might not be saying this as a Portwell shipper.

Miss Jenn is done with the students' personal drama and honestly, I'm right behind her. These kids are being completely unprofessional — and well, I realise that we can't expect them to be professional at this stage, but... they could at least try to concentrate on rehearsal and not their personal lives for a second.

Ricky hugging a cushion is my spirit animal. That's it, that's the comment.

Ahhh the tension between EJ and Gina though... 'around here seniors don't follow sophomores' — well, we'll see how it goes, Mr. Senior.

What gives Nini the right to shout at strangers about their relationship? I am honestly so frustrated with her these days. Wonder why I never was during season 1. The reasons are all there.

'He loves you' — yeah, like a little sister, he does. Also, Ash is so precious, always trying to see the good in other people. EJ 1.0 is so lucky he had her as an example.

Ok, I'm not going to go into what an amazing best friend Big Red is because we all know that (plus I'm saving it for a certain scene in 1x5), but this must be so hard for him. I mean, he's trying his absolute best to help Ricky feel better and distract him from his problems, and Ricky is turning everything down. I mean, I guess I understand where he's coming from too, but I'm unable to look at things through the lead-centric lens alone anymore. I'm more aware of non-lead characters now (some more so than others) and this is putting a whole new spin on my perception of everything that happens.

I've got no idea how Big Red can sleep with all this noise, though. I could never. But to each their own.

'perfect on paper' — that's EJ 1.0 to a T. I've got to give Nini that.

Ricky wearing the pride t-shirt... we love to see it.

See, this is why I keep forgetting why I ever shipped Rini and then remembering again... their chemistry is just so on-again-off-again, and here it's definitely present, but I just need a couple with consistent chemistry, you know. Hey, isn't that kind of what All I Want is about? Kind of. I don't know. I've been unable to listen to that song ever since it got big irl. I have this... problem with media that becomes popular and mainstream... I mean, I never hold a grudge against things just for being popular, but I just... relate to underrated stuff much easier. Not because it's underrated, but it just so happens that nearly everything I like and relate to is underrated in some capacity. Even HSMTMTS itself — it's practically unheard of here in Bulgaria, so I would not have found it if I hadn't been looking for it specifically. Ok, this comment got derailed several times. I guess I'll just stop here and move right on to 1x5 at this point.

1x5: A bedazzled tablecloth, a perfectly balanced unicycle and bad reception at the barn... not the perfect ingredients, but they can still... Work This Out

'Miss Jenn says that's a life in the arts... well, that and almost constant unemployment' — alright, I know this line is not supposed to be funny, and that it's a painful reality for a lot of people, but... maybe it's the delivery. I just laugh every time.

See, this is what I mean when I say I want to see consistent chemistry — Seblos have it. I mean, I really don't want to jinx things, but... they do.

Big Red seems to be in a more... outspoken mood today, I guess you could say. Too bad Ricky is still shutting everything he says down. Seriously, Big Red and Seb should start a club for people who try their best to be there for their loved ones and still keep being shushed.

I might be super frustrated with nearly everything Nini says and does (can somebody please tell me why that is?), but... flushing her dress down the toilet? Major mood.

Listen, I love Miss Jenn and that she's close to her students, but... emerging from a toilet cubicle and inviting herself to Kourtney and Nini's girls' night was... Will Shuester level of questionable.

Ricky being the mature one about his parents separation is... I mean, it's admirable, but how did he move past the impending depression of last episode and towards being the one who tells his dad to get up and move on? Well, I mean, good for him. But I think the issue is far from buried yet.

'Friend of the year'? Ricky? I don't think so. First of all, if he were, he'd know that Big Red does not have two left feet. Wasn't it you, Ricky, who was stumbling over the steps in HSM a couple of weeks ago? You're one to talk. Plus Big Red's been listening and trying to help while you've just been spouting off about your personal problems for... how long has it been now? I get it, Ricky has issues that he needs to work through, but he's almost legally blind in both eyes when it comes to Big Red.

Ok, but Ricky is the epitome of 'cannot solve his own problems but has a suggestion on how everybody else should solve theirs' in this episode. Maybe take a step back and listen to your own advice?

'My parents think I'm bonding with the livestock' — I've got no idea why I find this line so funny, but I do. And I've got so much love for this entire scene. Carlos' reaction to Seb's response to his invitation is just... the most adorable thing ever! My heart might just burst. Especially given what we're about to go through tomorrow in 2x10... I am. Not. Ready.

The entire karaoke scene just reminds me of... pretty much every extended family reunion on my mum's side. Her cousins love karaoke and are also completely tone-deaf. I love it that they're able to have fun with it, but my ears are still recovering from my great aunt's birthday party two years ago.

'When did you become Nini?' — Why does Mr. Mazzara know so much about his students' dating lives? I mean, Miss Jenn does, too, but he doesn't strike me as someone as invested in them as her. Idk, it just struck me as kind of weird.

'I didn't agree to photos' — please, EJ, I'm sure you'll want memories from your first fake-dating gig with Gina... once you're no longer fake-dating, you know. Boy, these two are going to have stories to tell to their grandchildren.

I've said some stuff about Nini, but... 'a bedazzled tablecloth' is the funniest description I've heard for Gina's homecoming dress.

'Maybe it's not actually about you at all.' Yeah, you tell him, Reddy! Ricky needs to get over himself.

The way Big Red sniffs out the drama, though... I was not-so-randomly reminded of that moment in 2x9 where Seb was like Carlos. and Big Red was like, 'Are you guys fighting?'...

Big Red doing a comedic lip-reading of Gina and EJ's dramatic scene is absolutely hilarious. I might or might not have sold my heart and soul to him after seeing that scene for the first time. But I just remembered how he said earlier that maybe he can't read lips and that just makes this 100% funnier — he was basically like a child who can't read yet making up a story based on the pictures in a book, and I mean it in the best way possible. He's a theatre dark horse, this one, and they should all be intimidated — or inspired, whatever they choose — by his hidden talents. Gosh, I love this guy. But can you blame me?

'You think I'm actually going to confide in you?' — Absolutely. You can't bully someone from your position of authority over them and then act like you're their friend. I do know now that Mr. Mazzara has hidden depths, but he had no right to be as rude to Carlos as he was in 1x3. He was right about one thing, though — Carlos doesn't need a dance partner to dance.

Ricky saying he was going to apologise to Gina and counting that as an apology is giving me major TJ/ Buffy flashbacks. I wonder why that is... * sarcasm *

Nini feeling like a fraud makes me actually sympathise with her for a second. But I feel like Nini's flaw of defining herself through boys and Ricky in particular has been addressed one time too many now, since it was first addressed here in this episode. If they make her and Ricky get back together again in season 2, I will riot. [side note: I feel like the Born to Be Brave scene says a lot about both Rini and Seblos as couples. Nini and Carlos both feel, in the moments leading up to the song, like they are incomplete without their partners. Ricky, too, has built his personality entirely around Nini at that time (and is still not completely over that in s2). And then the song comes in to remind them that they don't need a partner to be happy. I'm just thinking of Big Red's 'perfectly balanced unicycle' comment from the promotional materials, and of how he and Ashlyn, even when they're dating in s2, are never portrayed as being incomplete without each other. I guess there's a reason why they're the Beta Couple of the show — their relationship drama is nearly non-existent, and when it does exist, it's just caused by them caring too much about each other. Every other couple on the show should learn from them.]

Everybody supporting Carlos during the Born to Be Brave number just warms my heart so much... I am actually crying real tears. And then the end, when Seb finally shows up, right in time for the slow dance... I have a lot of feelings about this scene.

Seblos' dialogue here still kind of makes me cringe a little... but like, in a good way.

Yikes... Miss Jenn's getting into trouble... I mean, it was bound to happen sooner or later. But she's lucky she's had enough time with her students for them to love her enough to fight for her. Still, this is a topic for another episode, and so I won't expand on it in this post.

Well, that's it. That was 1x4 and 5. Those were pretty much my favourite episodes when season 1 was airing. And I can definitely see why, even if my views on some things have changed due to stuff that happens later. But, as I constantly say, that's what rewatches are for. In other words, 'once more, with feeling this time' as my choir director used to say.

#hsmtmts #hsmtmts: the rewatch #nini salazar-roberts #ricky bowen #gina porter #ej caswell #ashlyn caswell #ashlyn moon caswell #big red redonovich #carlos rodriguez #seb matthew smith #kourtney greene #hsmtmts miss jenn #hsmtmts mr mazzara #rini #seblos #redlyn #portwell #jnk

[spockandawe]

Hi.....if you don't mind me asking, what are your top 10 favorite books? And why? Sorry if you've answered this question before....

This is an interesting question, and a difficult one! Which is why I let it steep for a few days while I was in a bookbinding fugue, haha XD

I’m not sure I’ll be able to answer it, because my level of fondness is highly dependent on how recently I read a book/how many times I’ve reread it, with an optional nostalgia modifier if something made a huge impression in my youth. And when I’m picking favorites, as the number of potential [thing] expands, the more I end up dithering and fretting that I’m forgetting something HUGE as I choose. So rather than a selection of top ten, I’ll just run down through some of my favorites! I’ll split it as five cnovels (recent reads, current genre hyperfixation) and five more conventional english-language novel (realistically, probably more like series, unless a standalone book occurs to me), and I’m not going to rank the conventional novels.

SO. Regular novels first. There’s a heavy recently-read/frequently-reread element going on in here. 

The Imperial Radch trilogy, by Ann Leckie. Okay, I am a sucker for a nonhuman protagonist, which is going to pop up in at least two other entries. And I’m also a sucker for themes of what can be perceived about a person externally versus their internal world, and Breq delivers like WHOA. She has SO MUCH going on in her head, and even though we’re in there with her, she still hides lots of her emotions from us. And characters like Seivarden hit me in character development buttons that I’m a sucker for, and the whole idea of consciousness being split across multiple bodies is DELICIOUS to me. Also... love me a sentient spaceship. ‘The Ship Who X’ series by Anne McCaffrey isn’t going to make this list, but I also love it a lot. (also, a universe of ‘she’s made me realized how STARVED i was for that degree of representation in certain genres that i love a lot, but don’t often see myself in as often as i might like)

The Murderbot series, by Martha Wells. Another nonhuman, sometimes-human-passing protagonist! Another one processing MASSIVE trauma of a sort that I, the human reader, have to slow down a lot and try to comprehend from an extremely different life experience! I like that a lot, it really forces me to LINGER on the nature of what a character is feeling. And oh my god, Murderbot’s voice is one of my favorite pov voices of all time. And watching it work (or go hogwild on its own asdfdgd) is absolutely delightful. I love literally everything about this series, except what happened with Miki. Other than that? Flawless.

The Books Of The Raksura, by Martha Wells. Martha Wells is a DELIGHT, y’all. Also! Another heavily-traumatized, nonhuman protagonist! And this time, like... It’s a fantasy world with huge amounts of sentient species, and the protagonist grew up away from his people, who are basically a bunch of feral homesteaders (LOVE THAT), and is trying to figure out how to reintegrate into their societal structures as an adult. That desperate desire to belong and feeling of discomfort and not-fitting-in, and the connections he makes and the way he DOES find a way to fit... like if u crey every time. Also, as far as we’re shown, it’s a cheerfully bisexual, polyamorous society, and *grabby hands*

Discworld, by Terry Pratchett. God, what do I even say about this series. It was a PARADIGM SHIFT. It’s bitingly funny, and also just plain biting, and full of huge varieties of interesting stories, set in a fascinating world, with a series of protagonists who I love too much for words. Vimes! The witches! Moist!!! They’re all so WONDERFUL. I still haven’t read the last book in the series yet, because then it will be Over Forever, and I can’t deal. This one is heavily nostalgia-tinted, but also, I stand by it.

The Belgariad/Mallorean, by David Eddings. Okay. Also very nostalgia, and the choice I can justify the least. But these books CLICKED with me. I’m afraid to reread them, because I’ve been wallowing in queer fiction for so long I’m worried about what the compulsory heterosexuality will feel like, and I know both series are very... episodic, in a way that isn’t necessarily great literature. But I dunno! Feels good, man. It’s high fantasy with a magical system I like, segmented worldbuilding of a sort that isn’t necessarily WELL-MADE, but it’s like... comfortable and easy. And something about the style and the character voices just clicks with me. I have no idea how well these hold up in the present day, but I do love them, and I’ve been planning to reread at least The Redemption Of Althalus by the same author as a standalone before I commit to a 12-book rereading of this universe, but.... I like em XD

--

Cnovels! I think I can rank these, so let’s go for it.

Fifth favorite: The Disabled Tyrant’s Pet Palm Fish :B Look, it’s ridiculous. It’s a transmigration story where the lead enters this fictional universe in the body of a fish, where he is adopted by a prince who eventually falls in love with him, and YES IT IS TAGGED MPREG, BUT HOLD ON A MOMENT-- I don’t know! I came here to point and laugh, but I’m honestly having such a good time right now. It’s really cute! And sweet! The main character is delightful, and the love interest is that particular flavor of semi-socialized upper-class young man, where like, can he do court politics? yes. can he politely express his affections for the main character? uh....... less so. It’s a really fun read, and I felt very sincere emotions about this prince who is passionately, deeply in love with his pet fish!

Fourth favorite: Mmmmmm, Mo Dao Zu Shi, I think. I struggle here, because it is NOT an easy book to read or show to watch, but having consumed the story, I love it to PIECES. I know a big draw for me is the protagonist, specifically, and his relationships to the people around him. And the more I cared about him, the more I wound up caring about the people around him, who I’d kind of neglected before, if that makes sense? It’s a story that really rewards some good old pondering. I didn’t care that much about Lan Xichen, but then I started thinking about how Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji relate to Lan Xichen, and then oh no, I care SO MUCH about his emotions, and now I’m thinking more deeply about how Lan Xichen relates to Jin Guangyao and Nie Mingjue-- It does lose points in this ranking because it IS hard to get into, and I would struggle to keep everyone straight even more if I didn’t have the show visuals to lean on, but it is still story I enjoyed VERY much.

Third favorite: Erha, but I feel REALLY, REALLY BAD that I can’t fit Yuwu on this list too, and I just want to loop them together. It’s time travel fixit fic, but it’s the book! Yes????? I love this. I love the striking character growth we get to see, and the changing perception of the world as the main character relives through events he already experienced and sees things in a new light, and I adore how Mo Ran’s growing guilt goes hand in hand with his growing love. And Meatbun in general... like, my god. I haven’t read another author who’s able to yank me through emotional whiplash so hard and fast. She makes me hoot with laughter one moment and then burst into tears the next. It’s absolutely wild. I love mxtx, and I think svsss/tgcf are gentler entry points into the genre and deal with lighter themes, but meatbun is seriously an UNBELIEVABLE writer if you can deal with the darker topics she covers.

Second favorite: The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System :V Look, I love it. I just love it. I love, again, characters dealing with the aftereffects of old trauma, plus I do also love seeing NEW trauma piled on top of it. I love having a main character with emotional dysregulation issues who doesn’t necessarily make good decisions, but doesn’t just leave me thinking ‘jfc what an asshole’, and I think that’s a really hard balance for an author to strike, especially without us getting direct pov. I love themes of being wanted and insecurity about being wanted, which is Luo Binghe’s major, major damage. And this is my first transmigration story I ever read, and the contrast between a main character who read the novel telling us about what’s totally going to happen versus the ground shifting under his feet is INCREDIBLY delightful to me. I’ve read other transmigration stories I enjoyed, but none that got my attention quite as much as this one.

First favorite: Tian Guan Ci Fu ;u; It’s so good. It’s so well-made! It’s so LONG, and it meanders, but also, I would scream if anyone tried to trim anything out of it. I am here a lot for the ship, honestly, but I also find the plot themes VERY interesting. I am very much here for reading about characters trying to process old trauma that’s been dredged up by new events, and also very here for the themes about how characters either pass their traumas along to the next generation, or try to shield the next generation from taking the same kind of damage (see: mdzs). And I’m also very much into tempering stories about pain with like... memories of kindness, and small acts of kindness repaid with an outpouring of devotion (see: svsss). But the craftsmanship in this book is just... DIVINE. I’m always reluctant to start rereading this one, because I have a terrible time stopping. There’s nothing about this book that I don’t like.

#spock replies #long post/ #thanad-zid

[raeynbowboi]

DnD 5e UA Subclass Concepts

With the sheer onslaught of new content we’ve gotten from Wizards of the Coast recently, I felt it’d be fun to throw out my own ideas for potential subclass ideas. Some are admittedly a little more fleshed out than others, but it’s still a fun exercise just to flex my creativity.

ARTIFICER

    Cybertronics: Perhaps too much of a retread of Warforged, the base concept is an Artificer who has replaced parts of their body with artificial substitutions.

    Interfacer: Geared towards spying and information gathering, the interfacer is a hacker who is skilled at disabling security, causing machinery to malfunction, and can turn a building’s security cameras into their eyes on the inside. But might rely too heavily on a technologically advanced world.

BARBARIAN

    Hero’s Soul: Your body is host to a legendary warrior. Upon raging, you surrender control of your body to this paramount champion, allowing you to fight like a demigod.   

    Bleeding Heart: Rather than only gaining power through rage, a Barbarian with a Bleeding Heart can form an attachment to mementos as they level up that remind them of intense emotions, with each emotion having different benefits at different levels. So, you could have a memento for every powerful emotion, or you could choose to only keep mementos that trigger a single powerful feeling, such as fear, sadness, or joy.

BARD

    Wilderness: Your song has the ability to attract the attention of woodland critters, and beast creatures will be less hostile toward you. At higher levels, your song can soothe even the most savage beast, making one intelligent creature passive toward you once per long rest.

    Humor: Laughter is the best medicine, and keeping the morale and vitality of your allies high is the primary concern of this bardic subclass. A successful performance check will revitalize friendly creatures. When you’re not lifting your friends’ spirits with your gambols, you’re making yourself a distracting target so that your friends won’t get hurt as much with you around.

CLERIC

    Love     Sea     Fire     Shadow/Darkness     Evil     Plague     Music     Secrets     Fate/Destiny     Luck     Chaos     Time

DRUID

    Unity: You have literally become one with nature. You select a terrain and bond so deeply that the world has started to live in you. Whether birds nest in your hair, barnacles and coral has begun to sprout out of your body, or your hair has turned into leaves, your bond with nature has reached the pinnacle.

    Menagerie: As you level up, certain parts of your body will be given the option to permanently morph into having bestial traits. For example, you might choose the predatory eyes of a hawk, the keen smelling of a dog, the superb hearing of a cat, or the gills of a fish as a facial mutation.

    Xenomorph: Very similar to the Menagerie, except instead of looking like a freaky gene spliced chimeric beast, you instead become more and more alien until you look like something out of Lovecraftian horror.

   Shaman: Your spirit animal is given shape through your understanding of magic, and it aids you in ways a physical animal could not.

FIGHTER

    Achilles: You have trained like a Greek hero and have honed the mythic power of the gods. You are stronger and tougher than is normal for your race at the cost of having a weak spot that expands the chances for enemies to land a crit on you.

    Dragon Knight: At level 1, the dragon is a tiny creature that can ride on your shoulder and try to help you in a fight. By level 20, it will be a full-sized mount that you can ride on. As you level up, you can decide where to focus its training, whether you want it to throw its weight around, focus on its breath attack, or make its scales sturdier and more resilient. How you train your dragon will determine the kind of fighting style that works best for you.

MONK

    Mystic: Your enlightenment and understanding of the universe has become so sagely that you have learned to convert your ki into spell slots. Casting with Wisdom, you have learned how to tap into the Wizard’s spell list of 5th level or lower spells.

    Animal Style: Choose an animal’s martial arts style between Tiger, Monkey, Snake, Crane, Mantis, and Dragon. Tigers hit harder and more ferociously, Monkies are more agile and excel in mobility, Snakes strike faster and are more adept at stunning and can cause poison conditions, Cranes have superior balance and can fly short distances, Mantises are better at not getting hit and going unnoticed, and Dragons are better adept to fighting large groups of enemies on their own.

PALADIN

    Fairytale Knight: Able to resist magical damage, magical charms or fears, and being adept at slaying magic-users and dragons makes this the quintessential hero in story-telling. Of course Remove Curse is among their subclass spells.

    Reaper: You have sworn an oath to the laws of death, which are finite and absolute. You roam the land ending the lives of those whose time has come to perish. This subclass is neither intrinsically Good or Evil, as it can be used as a normal part of the natural order, or for carnage and murder.

    Vigilante: Donning a mask and cowl, you bring about justice outside of the law.

RANGER

    Pack Bond: You forge a bond with an animal companion of your choosing. While in the wild, you can attempt to tame other animals of the same kind with your Animal Companion serving as the Pack Leader. Among wild groups of your Animal Companion, you and your traveling companions will be trusted enough to be welcomed in their dens, receive a share of their hunt, and be protected by them from other hostile creatures.

ROGUE

    Viper: An expert in poison and disguises, the Viper is a stealthy killer who uses poison and pragmatic tricks to put their opponents at a disadvantage during a fight. What they lack in sheer power they make up for by having ways of weakening their foes.

    Tomb Raider: You’re an experienced graverobber who has developed a knack for exploring ancient temples. Your past adventures have given you a keen eye when detecting traps, solving puzzles to advance through dungeons, and the ability to set up camp inside a dungeon without being at risk of hostile encounters.

SORCERER

    Infernal: Your power comes from a Fiend ancestor.

    Fey: Your power comes from a Fey ancestor

    Entombed: Your power comes from an Undead ancestor.

    Demigod: Unlike the Divine Soul Sorcerer, you are the literal progeny of an actual deity. Select a Cleric Domain your divine parent belongs to and receive unique features through your divine birthright.

WARLOCK

    Nature: You have made a pact with a powerful force of nature, be they a Nature God, an elemental, or a powerful druid, you are given the ability to harness the forces of nature in return for protecting nature with your life.

    Shadow Society: Rather than getting your power from an extra-dimensional being, your power was granted by a group of mortal castors to use you to do their dirty work. In return for your service, they have given you a portion of their power.

    Artifact: This patron isn’t sentient. Rather, it is simply a powerful magical relic which you use to channel energy from in order to cast your spells. While this subclass comes without the burden of indentured servitude to a usually malevolent being, the artifact can be lost or stolen, and with it, your powers.

WIZARD

    Arcane Lore: When you choose this subclass at 2nd level, select another casting class. Whenever you have the option to learn a Wizard spell, you can select a spell from that class’ spell list. You may only select one spell list to select from and they become Wizard spells for you.

I hope this was fun for you guys. And if any of these suggestions really sound interesting, I might just turn them into proper Homebrew posts. I’ve already covered the Love Domain Cleric, so I’m not opposed to covering others in the future. Which ideas were your favorites, and are there some that you’d love to try and use in a future campaign?

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