#posting now before it sits in my drafts for another 3 weeks

[junkissed]

happy ending

member — husband!junhui x f reader genre — angst, fluff, hurt/comfort word count — 6.6k synopsis — a pointless argument escalates until both of you need some space, but it couldn't come at a worse time. warnings — female reader, planned pregnancy, there's a big argument but i tried to not make it too toxic (jun and reader have a happy & healthy relationship i promise), swearing, there is a happy ending lots of fluff !! notes — requested by anon — this has been sitting in my drafts for months bc every time i look at it i get shy and wanna change my mind but i'm proud of how this turned out so i'm posting it finally! i know pregnancy fics aren't everyone's favorite but this was honestly very comforting to write so i hope anyone who chooses to read can find comfort in it as well <3 also the last time i proofread this was like april and if i try to proofread it rn i'll get shy again and chicken out so if there's any mistakes pls ignore! i hope you enjoy :)

you sat on the bathroom floor, trying to comprehend the weight of the news you held in your hand. you couldn’t believe it. you could? you couldn’t. 

after many months of trying to start a family with your husband, you had finally succeeded. the slim plastic stick with two tiny pink lines was the last piece of evidence you needed. it had been months of carefully tracked cycles, fertility doctors, and new positions that seemed too weird to actually do anything. but now, everything was finally falling into place.

you don’t know exactly how much time you spend sitting on the floor and staring at the pregnancy test; thinking, planning, and thinking some more. but when you finally stand up and place the positive test on the counter with shaking hands, it still hasn’t fully sunk in yet what’s happening. something you’d wanted for so long, and finally it was all right in front of you.

what do you do now? no— you know exactly what you need to do, and it’s a long list of things. the real question is, where do you begin?

you thought back to all the videos you’d watched over the last few weeks. somehow every social media algorithm knew exactly what you wanted to see, and it had given it to you in abundance; baby showers, gender reveals, those “get ready with me - new mom edition” videos. all getting your hopes up before you could confirm whether or not it had finally happened.

with your hopes high and expectations even higher, you were already beginning to plan how you would break the news to junhui. as your husband and your soon-to-be baby’s father, of course you wanted him to be the very first person to know, so you couldn’t wait too long to tell him. you couldn’t wait to see the look on his face.

maybe you’d get a little gift box and give the test to him before dinner. but, then again, it was literally a piece of plastic you’d peed on. surely you could give him… something a little nicer than that.

maybe you could buy a baby outfit and wrap it up for him. but you remembered he’d mentioned so many times about how excited he would be to pick out clothes once you got pregnant. you would want him to have the honor of picking out the very first one, going to the store together and looking through the whole section before finally settling on the perfect one.

what else was there you could do? bake a cake? make a crossword puzzle? buy him a t-shirt that says “dad-to-be”? so many ways you could do it, but none of them seemed perfectly right.

from the other room you hear the door opening, and hurriedly you stuff the test into a drawer, not wanting to tell him just yet. you need a plan first; waiting another day or two couldn’t hurt, so you’ll just have to figure out how to tell him later.

you flip off the bathroom light and stride into the hallway, barely able to contain the grin on your face. you’ve always been terrible at keeping secrets, and with news as big and exciting as this you have no idea how you’re going to be able to hide it from him for more than a minute.

but luckily you don’t have to wonder about it for long, because as soon as you see jun you can already tell he’s in a sour mood. 

you know it’s usually best to let him have some time alone when he’s upset, but not for too long because he starts getting frustrated with himself and won’t stop working until he’s exhausted.

but you’re still on a high after everything today, so you decide on being a little bit sweeter to him in the hopes that your happiness will be contagious and that it’ll lift his spirits, despite what was probably a really awful day at work.

you find him sitting at the kitchen table with his head in his hands, long fingers pressed against his eyes trying to block out the light.

“hey, junnie,” you call out, sitting down in a chair next to him. “bad day?”

“yeah,” he answers shortly.

“i’m sorry, baby,” you hum, putting your hand on his shoulder, but he flinches and your hand falls away in surprise. he’s never done that before. weird. you try something else. “um, any requests for dinner?”

“not hungry.”

“alright. well, i guess i can cook up some veggies and leave them out, you can heat them up whenever you get hungry.”

he moves his hands away from his face and onto the table, sighing as he leans back in his chair. “can you just— leave me alone for a while? i’m sorry.”

you nod and stand up. “no, it’s fine. i get it. i’ll bring you some tea later then, maybe. text me when you’re feeling better.” you reach out and gently touch his hand before walking away, leaving him alone at the table.

it’s definitely one of his worser days, you note, so you retreat to your bedroom to watch more videos on your phone, trying to bring back your excitement from earlier. hopefully later he’ll be more open and you can sit down and eat something, and maybe by then you’ll have come up with a good way to tell him the news.

an hour passes and you come out of your bedroom to look for jun, having a question from one of your friends about the dinner you’d arranged to have together next week. but he’s no longer in the kitchen, so you peek your head into his office room and find him exactly where you expect him to be, trying to work himself to death.

you clear your throat before you enter, not wanting to startle him again. “hey, junnie, i know you’re in a bad mood, and i’m sorry to interrupt, but—”

“what do you want?” he snaps, never turning around from his desk. just from the way he’s hunched over his computer, he looks like the most stressed you’ve ever seen him, and your chest tightens with worry before your brain registers what he’s just said to you.

“i— excuse me?”

“i said, what do you want?” he repeats, still facing away from you.

you resist the urge to glare at him, knowing he’s probably under a lot of pressure, and you aren’t trying to add to it. “you don’t have to be rude, jun. i just came in here to double check about next weekend, minghao’s texting me.”

he finally lifts his head, slamming his hand down on the desk. “i’m really trying not to snap at you, but— jesus, you make it so fucking hard sometimes.”

you raise your eyebrows in disbelief, your voice lifting in tone. “well, i’m so very sorry to inconvenience you then, but i really don’t appreciate you talking to me like that, jun.”

“and i don’t appreciate you talking to me like i’m a child! when will you get it through your head?”

his comment stings, but you brush it off. “well, maybe if you’d just talk to me like an adult instead of throwing a fit and hiding in your office then i wouldn’t have to treat you like one!” you’re starting to get tired of how he retreats in on himself every time bad shit happens. all you want to do is let him know he doesn’t have to do it alone, and he’s just… exploding at you for no reason, so you don’t try to hide the snarkiness behind your words.

he scoffs angrily and stands up, towering over you at his full height. “oh, grow up! you’re so moody all the time and you expect me to just put up with it! as if i don’t have enough other shit to worry about, i have to worry about what you think of this and that and everything all the damn time!”

you’ve never seen him get so angry like this, and it’s almost scary how completely different this jun is from the jun you know and love. “okay, jun, fine, i’ll just—”

“no, don’t fucking “jun, fine” me. it’s like you’re doing it on purpose at this point, you act like everything is just so perfect and then when it’s not you act like it’s your job to fix everything! you can’t fix everything!”

“i said fine! just forget it, i’ll leave you the hell alone like you always want!”

he pushes past you and crosses the room in two strides, grabbing his keys off the hook by the door, his hand already on the doorknob. “i need to get some air. i’ll be back later.”

you fold your arms over your chest, trying to look unphased but inside your heart is breaking. “you’re really gonna walk out like that? you’re just gonna run away from this? real mature, junhui.”

he spins around, and the look in his eyes is cold. “if i don’t get out of this house right now i’m gonna say something i actually regret.”

and in a flash the door is slammed shut and jun is gone. you can hear his car starting up in the driveway, and seconds later everything is dead silent.

you stand frozen in front of the door, unable to move. you can’t believe it. you can’t. what just happened?

jun has never just… walked out like that.

his words ring in your ears; though your argument wasn’t very long, a lot was said in a very short time and you can’t even begin to think about how to process it as it starts to hit you all at once.

say something he actually regrets? what the hell does that mean? so he’s saying he doesn’t regret everything else, the cursing and the anger and the pointed words that were clearly meant to hurt you?

minute after long minute passes and you realize he’s not coming back anytime soon. finally you drag yourself away from the door, dropping down on the couch in a daze.

there’s never been a time where you and jun haven’t made up immediately after an argument. sure, maybe you take a little bit to cool down in your own space, but neither of you like letting the tension sit unresolved for very long. so what was it this time that made him leave without even a goodbye?

so many reasons, so many excuses, so many words you could’ve said instead. you shouldn’t have reacted like that, you shouldn’t have kept it going, you should’ve just left him alone. would that have made him stay? if you’d backed down sooner and just let him work through it on his own?

despite all the what-ifs and the doubts in your mind, your conscience won’t allow you to let him worry about everything by himself without at least offering your help. you’re a team, husband and wife, and you’ll be damned if you let him forget that. maybe you trying to help actually made things worse in the end, but at least you know you tried… right?

it’s not until you check your phone and realize that jun’s been gone more than half an hour that you finally let yourself cry. you’d been so focused on worrying about where jun was and whether he was okay that you’d barely even thought about what might happen after this.

will he just… come back and pretend nothing happened? will he come back and still be angry at you? it would almost be worse if he was calm and acted like everything was normal. would he even apologize? would you even apologize? of course you would. both of you said things that were fucked up, and you’ll be the first to admit it if it means this whole thing can be over. right now all you want is to have junhui back.

the tears keep falling but you don’t even feel yourself crying, your face rigid as the tears continue to stain your cheeks.

after an hour you force yourself to get up off the couch and move somewhere, anywhere around the house to try and get your mind off things. but you can’t erase his voice from your head, the look in his eyes as he walked out the door and the way his shoulders hunched from anger mixed with exhaustion.

you find yourself back in your bedroom and you fall onto his side of the bed, wishing you would wake up to find that this has all just been a very bad dream.

it’s after 10pm when you hear your phone buzz on the nightstand and you sit up in a panic, scrambling to see if it’s something from jun. your eyes sting from crying so much, and you blink away the remaining tears as you unlock your phone with shaking hands. your heart drops even further when you realize it is, in fact, from jun, but not the news you want to hear.

you let your phone slip out of your grasp, tumbling to the carpet with a thud. when he’d said he’d be back later you had assumed that meant he’d be coming back tonight. clearly you thought wrong.

tomorrow seemed so far away; too much time to spend alone in a house that was supposed to be filled with happy memories, but now all you felt was pain. you felt it in your chest and in your stomach and in your head and everywhere. the whole room was suffocating, heavy weight crushing down on you from every angle.

you slide to the floor and pick up your phone. you don’t text junhui back. you’re not sure anymore if he’d even read your message. 

instead you type in your friend seokmin’s phone number, listening to the line ring as you wipe the back of your hand across your eyes.

as soon as he picks up, he can hear the anguish in your voice and he’s begging you to tell him what’s wrong, but all you can muster up is a soft, “can i stay with you tonight?” because you can’t bear to be in this house another second without junhui. 

and of course he says yes, and of course he’s immediately on his way over to pick you up. and of course he stops at mcdonald’s on the way back to his house to buy you something to eat, because you haven’t eaten and even though you don’t particularly have much of an appetite right now, seokmin would rather die than let you skip a meal, especially on a night like tonight when you could really use something to keep you going.

you throw your overnight bag on the floor of seokmin’s living room with a small sigh. in a haze you’d tossed in whatever items you thought you might need; a toothbrush, pajamas, something to wash your face with. 

he gives you space for a while as he pulls out the folding bed part of the couch and brings out blankets and pillows for you to sleep with. you don’t say it, but you really appreciate his help. he’s been one of your best friends for so long, and you don’t know what you’d do without him. 

you hadn’t thought about it while you were packing, but as you stand in seokmin’s bathroom you think about the cleanser you’d grabbed; your favorite one, the one jun had gotten you for your birthday last year and you’d never switched to another brand since. 

every single thing reminds you of him, and you push down a fresh wave of emotion as you scrub the foam into your skin, trying to wash away all your tears.

when you’re done getting ready for bed you find seokmin in the living room with a pot of tea. he was just trying to help, but unluckily for him, he’d made green tea. it was your favorite… but it also happened to be jun’s favorite.

and this time you can’t hold back your tears, and seokmin is sitting wide eyed and bewildered, wondering why you’re crying over tea, but he doesn’t ask. he just reaches out to let you hug him, and you squeeze him so tightly you know it must hurt, but he doesn’t say anything, just lets you hug him as hard as you can and lets your tears stain his t-shirt.

it takes another half hour for you to calm down enough to talk. you’d spent the time watching whatever was on tv, not really paying attention and instead playing everything back in your mind. seokmin had just sat next to you, quietly keeping you company until you were ready.

“jun and i… had a fight,” you say finally, interrupting the commercial playing on the screen.

“i figured,” he says, offering you a comforting smile as he mutes the tv. “do you wanna talk about it?”

“i don’t know. there’s not much to talk about.” you take a shaky breath, remembering it all one more time. “we both said some awful things that we didn’t mean. at least, i know i didn’t mean them. then he just… left, and he texted that he’d come home tomorrow. that’s it.”

you don’t tell him about the pregnancy test. you’ve mentioned once or twice that you and jun had been interested in starting a family, but you’d never gone into detail about it and you weren’t going to now. you still wanted jun to be the first person to know, even though you didn’t know when that might be anymore.

you tell him about other things instead, about your day at work and your plans for the weekend. eventually you finish your tea, and seokmin retreats to his own room and shuts the door with a quiet click, leaving you alone in the quiet of his living room.

it takes you a long time to fall asleep, but soon your exhaustion catches up with you and you let yourself rest, physically and emotionally drained. at least the silence here isn’t as bad as the silence at your house.

across town in his friend seungcheol’s guest bedroom, jun can’t stop tossing and turning. he’s fucked up, he knows he fucked up, big time.

why did he leave? he shouldn’t have left. you had been absolutely right, he was running away from everything and it was stupid and dumb and immature. but in that moment all he could think about was what the next awful thing he might say to you was, and he knew if he had stayed for any longer he wouldn’t have been able to stop what came out of his mouth. he was out of control, and immediately he knew it.

not even the worst day in the world could make you deserving of all the things he said to you. you were the only thing that wasn’t bad in his life; even on shitty days like today, all you did was care about him. and all he did was hurt you.

jun barely sleeps that night, finally forcing himself out of the extra bed at dawn. he’d been too anxious to sleep, too frustrated with himself to do anything other than think about everything he did and wonder if you were okay without him.

he’d already gotten an earful from his friend last night, and he knew he was still in big trouble. the things he said wouldn’t just go away overnight. in fact, they’d probably gotten worse by leaving them to build up overnight, and again he’s kicking himself for ever leaving in the first place.

he packs up his things as quickly as he can, eager to get home and see you again. on his way out the door, he thanks seungcheol for letting him stay the night and he apologizes for bothering him so late.

“i’m not the one you need to apologize to. you better figure out how to fix this, jun.”

with a straight face he nods, bowing his head as he closes the door.

in his car, jun takes the long way home, trying to find an open grocery store. he knows it won’t make up for how he acted, but the very least he can do it buy you a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

he walks through the aisles, basket in hand, trying to think of something else for you. maybe he’ll get the ingredients he needs to make your favorite dinner tonight; he hadn’t eaten last night, though you had offered to cook for him and he’d shot you down.

he feels another pang of guilt at the thought, remembering yet another kind gesture you’d tried to give him that he’d brushed off like it meant nothing. it meant everything to him, and in the middle of the frozen vegetables aisle he swore he wouldn’t ever do it again. 

he’d taken you for granted, and he was so lucky that things hadn’t ended worse than they did. he could’ve said something truly unforgivable, or he could’ve even lost your relationship altogether. but he was still yours, and you were still his, and he would just have to work extra hard to make sure you knew how sincere he was.

he’d been a little worried that you hadn’t texted him back last night, seeing that you’d read his message but never responded. you were probably still hurt, and he didn’t blame you; still, he’d hoped you would say something back.

with grocery bags loaded full of ingredients for dinner and the special things he’d bought for you, the drive back home feels a little more hopeful.

he plans out everything he’ll do in the car. he’ll bring the groceries in and put them away quickly; it’s still fairly early in the morning, so hopefully you won’t be awake yet. he’ll arrange your flowers all nice in a pretty vase, and he’ll come in and wake you up with the best apology of his life and hopefully a really big hug. after the last 24 hours he really could use a hug, and he’s sure you could too. and then he’ll explain how sorry he is and how he didn’t mean any of it and then everything will be better again. yes, everything will be okay.

the first part of his plan goes perfectly. he sneaks into the house and when he’s met with silence he continues putting everything away, quietly so he won’t wake you up in the other room. then, he puts the flowers in a vase and with everything in place, he walks down the hallway to finally face you.

but when he twists the bedroom door handle, the bed is made and the room is empty. you aren’t there.

he frowns, leaving the room and poking his head into the bathroom, then his office. he calls your name loudly, hoping you’re just in a corner of the house and you’ll come out once you hear him. but no reply.

he goes back into the living room and sets the vase down on the coffee table, trying to think. you aren’t usually up this early, but maybe you hadn’t been able to sleep and you’d gone out for a walk, or maybe you’d gone to the store to get more cereal? 

a sinking feeling rises in his chest, and he walks back into the bedroom to confirm something, sliding open the closet door to check. your overnight duffel bag is gone.

he ducks back into the bathroom to check something else. your toothbrush isn’t sitting in the jar like it usually is. he slides open the bathroom drawer to check one more thing, and—

his hand freezes on the knob, staring at something in the drawer that wasn’t there before. he’s not sure it is what he thinks it is, but either way there it is, clear as day in front of him: a little white piece of plastic, sticking out from underneath a tissue. 

gingerly he pulls it out, holding it up to the light to see it better. when he sees the two pink lines he nearly drops it in shock, but he stops himself, setting it gently on the counter instead.

this is something special, something precious, and he knew he had to take care of it. you’d saved it for a reason; you could’ve easily just thrown it away once you knew the results, but you had kept it instead. were you going to give it to him?

he covers his mouth with his hand, still staring at the stick sitting on the edge of the sink. it was just a cheap piece of plastic, but to him it was the most important thing in the entire world.

he deflates when he realizes you’d probably been planning on telling him last night, before he’d blown up at you. if he’d been paying attention to anyone other than himself, he would’ve noticed your mood was happier than usual, your face glowing with contained excitement. he should’ve been paying attention.

there’s a sense of urgency in his stride as he dashes around the house, looking for any other sign of you, but it’s clear you weren’t there. there were so many places you could be, he can’t even begin to think of where to look. your parents, friends, family; hell, you could even have stayed in a hotel, alone and upset. he should’ve been there. none of this should’ve ever happened.

immediately he presses the speed dial for your phone, but of course– no answer. he calls again, and again you don’t pick up. he curses, resisting the urge to slam his phone down on the table in frustration. no, he has to stay calm. that’s what got him into this whole fucking mess in the first place.

he remembers that your parents are out of town on vacation, so you probably wouldn’t have gone there. you wouldn’t have gone to a hotel because you always lecture him about the importance of saving money “just in case”, so you wouldn’t have paid to stay somewhere. your sister is still in college and shares an apartment with three other people, so probably not the best idea either. 

that narrows it down to one of your friends’ houses; seokmin, who lives a couple blocks away, or joshua, who lives on the other side of town.

he figures seokmin is his best bet, so jun takes a deep breath and finds the contact in his phone.

“what do you want?” seokmin’s usually cheery voice has an edge to it today, and jun knows he’s picked right.

“is she there?” he asks anxiously.

“she is,” he confirms, and jun exhales, letting out the breath he had been holding in. “but she’s asleep still. i’ll let her know you called.”

“wait,” jun adds quickly.

the line is silent for a moment, and he’s afraid seokmin’s already hung up, but finally he gets a response. “what is it?”

"can i–are you sure? please," jun pleads. if he could just talk to you, just explain what happened and that he's so fucking sorry—

“hold on,” seokmin says, and the phone goes quiet again.

jun’s heart is in his throat as he waits for a response, and he stops when he finally hears your voice. “hello?”

he breathes a sigh of relief. “sweetheart. i’m so sorry.”

you don’t reply, so he continues.

“i’m glad you’re okay,” he starts, trying to put the right words together. “i shouldn’t have said any of that last night, and i shouldn’t have left. i didn’t mean it. i’m sorry.”

“thanks” is all you say, and he hates how small and sad your voice sounds. it’s his fault you sound like that.

“i found your test,” he bursts out, unable to hide his excitement any longer.

“oh." you pause, swallowing. "so… you know.”

“yes, i do know, baby. i’m so sorry, if i had known before—”

you cut him off, your tone suddenly rising with anger. “‘if you had known?’ so you won’t yell at me if i’m pregnant, but you’re just fine with yelling at me when you think i’m not? is that the only reason why you’re even apologizing to me right now?"

“no— fuck, no, of course not. i shouldn’t yell at you, period. and i’m not going to ever again.” jun pauses for a second, rubbing his hand over his eyes. he’s done nothing so far but make everything worse. “i really messed up, honey, and i’m sorry. i can’t say it enough. but— please, come home. i don’t want to talk over the phone.”

you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to will away the tears that threaten to fall again. you don’t want to cry about this anymore. “okay,” you say finally. “i’ll be home in a little while.”

“thank you,” jun says, and the way his voice breaks makes your heart sink. you can tell he feels awful about everything, and you do really, really miss him.

“…i love you," you add, changing your mind at the last second.

“i love you, too!” he says immediately. “i love you, too, honey. text me when you’re on your way.”

“i will.”

he says “i love you” twice more before you end the call. you sit in silence for a second, processing everything before you stand up off the couch and head to seokmin’s room to give him back his phone.

"can you take me home now, please?" you tell him softly, and immediately seokmin stands up and hugs you, his arms wrapped tightly around you.

"of course. let me know when you're ready."

half an hour later you find yourself in the front seat of seokmin’s car once again, this time sitting nervously in his driveway as he puts your bag in the trunk for you. you're still not sure if you're ready to face jun yet, but you know you have to.

reluctantly you unlock your phone and open your text messages with jun, your eyes landing on the text he'd sent last night that had gone unreplied. with shaky fingers you type out that you're leaving seokmin’s house, and jun replies almost instantly with a long string of heart emojis.

seokmin gets into the car and starts it, and you exhale and set your phone in the cupholder.

"are you okay?" he asks, turning to look at you. "because you can always let me know if you need anything. anytime, day or night."

"i'm alright," you say, taking a deep breath. "i'm fine. but thank you, seok. i really appreciate everything."

he smiles, shifting the car into reverse. "of course. it's no problem at all."

the second he hears the car pull up outside the house, jun jumps up off the couch, smoothing his shirt down anxiously. through the window he watches seokmin hand you your bag and close the trunk, giving you one last hug before he gets back in the car. he doesn't drive away until you're at the front porch, and with a deep breath jun swings open the door, before you can even knock.

you both stand there in silence for a second before he blurts out another apology. "i'm sorry," he rushes to say. "i'm really sorry."

you give him a weak smile. "can i maybe… get in the house, first?" you ask quietly, motioning with your free hand at the doorway.

"yeah, i— yeah, shit, of course," jun says as he practically jumps out of your way, holding the door open for you to walk inside.

you set your bag on the floor by the couch as he closes the door behind you. the sound of the lock clicking seems too loud in the uncomfortable silence that settles over the room.

"can… can i give you a hug? please?" he asks, and you stay quiet but nod. 

he closes the distance between you in one stride and wraps his arms around you, squeezing you so tightly and holding you close to his chest. "i'm so sorry, honey. i didn't mean any of it. i promise."

"i believe you," you finally manage, your voice a little muffled from how he's pressing you against him.

he doesn't say anything more, just holds you and holds you, and it feels so good to be home where you belong. there's a lot that needs to be said, but for right now you don't need any more words. you're just glad to be back together again.

after a while you pull your head away from him so you speak. "i'm sorry."

"why are you apologizing? you didn't do anything wrong, baby. i'm the one that needs to be apologizing."

you shake your head. "no. i said some things last night, too. granted, not as bad as you, but…"

jun breaks out into a grin at your joke, and you feel your mood start to lighten. "…which is true. and i'm sorry."

"jun, you can stop apologizing now. i get it, you're sorry. you don't have to tell me a million times," you say, trying to laugh a little.

now it's his turn to shake his head. "well, i'm going to anyway. because i am sorry." you look away from him, feeling embarrassment start to boil up, but he continues talking. "i'm serious. i'll say it as many times as it takes to make it right."

you turn your head back to him, struggling to keep a straight face. "why did you leave, jun?" you ask softly.

he takes a deep breath, and still trapped in his arms you can feel his chest expand with the breath. 

"it was stupid," he says finally. "i left because i didn't want to stay and risk hurting you more. but i realize i did that anyway, by leaving. i was just… i needed some air. but i shouldn't have stayed away, and i'm not gonna do that again. i won't do it, ever again."

"i just don't want you to leave me," you manage, trying and failing to hide the crack in your voice as you feel your eyes start to well up with tears.

he hugs you tighter and one of his hands comes up to cup the back of your head, gently smoothing your hair with his thumb. "i know, baby, i'm sorry. i'm not going to, i promise."

you don't respond, but you know he's telling the truth. the last 24 hours have been hell for the both of you, and you don't doubt he means every single "i'm sorry" he's said.

"so…" jun starts, and you tilt your head up at him.

"so?" you know what he's going to say next, and despite the excitement you had yesterday you feel yourself dreading this part of the conversation.

"you're pregnant?"

you sigh, looking down and avoiding his eyes. "yeah."

he hums. "but you don't sound excited?" he asks.

"well, i was, last night."

"i'm sorry," he winces. "do you wanna tell me now and i'll pretend this didn't happen and i don't know about it?"

you shake your head. "no, it's fine. the moment's kinda… ruined, already."

he sighs. "yeah, i know. i'm sorry i ruined it."

"i said it's fine, jun."

"no, it's not fine," he says firmly. "it's one hundred percent my fault. this is important to you, and to us, and we should be celebrating right now. last night should never have happened."

"jun, it's in the past. it was messed up, but i forgive you," you say, lifting you head to look at him once more. "it's not a big deal. we're okay now."

"i just want you to be happy about it," he says with a sniff. "we've been trying for so long, and finally…" he trails off, staring at you with watery eyes. 

you smile at him. "i am happy about it, junnie. i'm so happy, you can't even believe."

"did you tell seokmin?" he asks, and his brows furrow when you shake your head no.

"no, i didn't. i wanted you to be the first i told," you say shyly. "i knew you would want to be the first to know."

"i love you so much," he says, still hugging you. he's never going to let you go, never again. "do you know how far along?"

"no, i didn't go to the doctor. probably like two or three weeks, though, if i've been counting it right."

"wow," he sighs, a smile on his face as he stares off into the distance behind you. "i can't wait."

you watch his eyes, practically able to see the thoughts running through his head. 

after a while he loosens his grip around you, moving to swipe at his eyes quickly with the back of his hand. "well—anyway," he starts, giving you an awkward chuckle. "i bought stuff for breakfast. if you haven't had any, yet. and i'm making dinner tonight, too."

before you can even respond his eyes widen, like he's just now remembering all the things he had planned, and he lets go of you, bounding into the kitchen. he returns seconds later with a huge glass vase full of flowers, practically tripping over his own feet in his rush to hand them to you. "and i got these for you, too. sorry they're not the best, it's all the store had this morning."

"junnie, if this is the best the store had, then i don't think i wanna see their best," you laugh, holding the flowers up and admiring the dozens of bright blooms. "this is gorgeous, but you really didn't need to get me anything."

"but i wanted to," he counters, still running around the room to grab the gift bag sitting by the couch. "consider it an 'i'm very sorry' slash 'congrats you're having a baby' gift."

you set the vase down on the table next to you and take the bag from him, pulling out the tissue paper and crumpling it into a ball.

"i didn't have a whole lot of time to look this morning, but i found these," he says nervously, waiting for your reaction.

from the bag you pull out a miniature plastic hanger holding a set of tiny pajamas covered in little kitties, attached to a matching set of striped orange socks.

"i wanted to be the first person to get you baby clothes," he explains as he fidgets with his hands. 

"i knew you would," you smile at him, setting the empty bag and the clothes on the table along with the bouquet of flowers. "and they're perfect. they're so… you."

you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him back in for another hug. "i love all of it. thank you, jun."

he grins, rocking you back and forth in his arms and leaving kisses all over your cheek. "i love you too, baby. i missed you so much. i won't ever do that again."

"i know," you smile. "now… you promised me breakfast, isn't that right? because i'm starving. crying is exhausting."

he laughs. "no crying anymore. and i did promise you that, so tell me: do you want blueberry waffles, or strawberry?"

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[eveningepiphany]

welcome to the final show | H.S, part 2

the girlies asked so I deliver!

read part one here, or check out my masterlist!

summary: after the accidental cafe run in, harry and y/n have wound up with each others numbers. and are quick to go from casual texting to organising another time to meet up. including a cafe trip and an unexpected ice creamery visit.

warnings: fluff, swearing, minor mentions of alcohol, nothing too heavy, just our lovely italyrry who is the sweetest ever.

a/n: thank you all so so much for the incredible amount of support on the first part of this official series. and also for your patience in waiting for me to hurry up and post an update. i know it’s been like 2 weeks since the first part, but I really wanted to give you something i took my time working on <3

———

There’s a certain type of disbelief that comes around once and a while. It’s rare.

It’s the kind that you feel straight to your core. That randomly dumps on you during the day like a bucket of water, and leaves your head spinning like that very bucket came crashing down with it.

It happens in a single moment, but lingers for a long time after the fact.

That’s exactly how you felt after harry texted you first. Because not even a few hours later after you’d exchanged numbers, he sent you through, not only a message, but a photo of all things.

One that made your heart swell with its endearing qualities.

A photo of a plate, filled with the food you’d told him earlier that day was one of your favourites.

Sent with a further little message below it,

Your favourite is currently up for grabs at the family gathering. H

The way he’d signed his intial off at the bottom had you nearly throw your phone across the room at how adorable it was.

Like as if you didn’t even know who you were texting.

Again it strewn your thought— is he aware the kind of mental effect this is having on you? Because you’re borderline going to need to phone for an ambulance.

You’re a simple person. A fangirl, to say the least. This shit, despite being able to say ‘I’ve met and talked with Harry Styles for more than 10 minutes’ does not just disappear.

And you had promised yourself not to tell anyone that this had happened— or was happening? Because there would be nothing worse than this somehow ending up online.

And not to treat him like a flighty deer instead of a grown man, but you would hate for that to place a kind of distrust in his hands.

However, all of that self-agreement doesn’t take away the nagging voice in your head that just wants to tell at the very least your immediate friends and family.

But you’re proud to say— after a long 2 minutes of pacing around your hotel room— you manage to craft a reply back.

Well, only after a few rough and undeniably embarrassing drafts that quickly get deleted out of the text bar.

You’re back to sitting on the floor against the bed frame, facing the window looking out on the gorgeous colours of the evening Italian sky.

Heart pounding, and you’re sure this scene from a third person perspective would look like it was pulled from a hallmark movie.

Girl fawning over man’s simple text. Kicking her feet in the glow of Italian sun, with a glass of wine on the floor next to her.

You stared at your finalised message and decided if you didn’t send it now, you would spiral into a never ending pit of doubt. And just end up overthinking the whole thing.

So you just did it. And now on the screen, under his blue message, was your own grey one.

there’s no way. it looks so good! im gonna see if it’s on my room service menu tbh. consider me inspired.

You bit your knuckles. Acting up like a fucking teenager. Waiting for the shock to subside before you actually get up to find the hotel menu.

After you replied back, you were sweating, honestly. Anxious at the fact you had just sent a text to Harry Styles. And unlike a conversation, that shit is permanent. So too bad if it comes off embarrassing.

Which of course, it didn’t on his end. Unbeknownst to you, he almost physically gleamed at sight of your name on his screen for the first time.

You’d nearly dropped your glass of wine when your phone vibrated up on the counter of the hotels kitchen where it was charging.

It’d been about half an hour from when you replied, you’d since ordered room service and sat in your bed to watch tv.

You made sure to place your glass elsewhere as you ran over to grab your phone.

If it wasn’t already all gone I’d save you some. Any luck with the room service?

You’d replied back swiftly, disregarding any kind of waiting to text back rule. You were all too eager to wait.

i managed to score some up from the room service. didn’t look as appetising as yours, but it was still enjoyed. x

And at this, he smiled, looking at the Italian sunset as he thought of you with a curiosity he recognised as all too unhealthy.

———

If you had told yourself two days ago in that cafe, that you have had several full conversations with harry after getting his number… you probably would have laughed.

Yet its not a joke of any kind. You can pinch yourself over and over again looking at those texts, but all you’ll end up with is a bruise and they will be just as real.

But as you read over the most recently received one, pinching would have not been enough of a reality check.

Maybe a frying pan? Probably would do the trick.

You scanned over his words, rubbing your eyes like you were tired and seeing shit— even though you’d been awake since 9am, which was 2 hours ago.

Unless you have plans, I’m going to try this cafe a friend recommended me a while back, if you wanted to tag along?

[ 1 attachment link]

And there’s simply no way that this is happening? But after 30 seconds without a follow up text telling you he’s accidentally sent this to the wrong person, you sit up straight.

Well, you’re not about to ask him if he’s serious right now, so you channel every fibre of casualness left within you and use it to construct a response.

id love to! I’ll get ready to go soon if you want to meet there before 12:30?

That works perfectly. did you need a lift, or are you in walking distance. I can pick you up if you need.

You almost keel over at his offer, and the absolute gentleman move he just made.

You also realise you didn’t even look where the cafe was. Because if Harry Styles asks you to go somewhere with him the answer should always be yes. Figure out the means of getting there and back later.

Either way you open the link and get taken to google maps, and the cafe in question is literally a 10 minute walk away from you.

im in walking distance, it’s about 10 minutes away. so I’ll just make my way there at about 12:15! thank you for the lovely offer though.

And you move as quickly as possible from your bed to your suitcase, ready to tear that thing apart for an outfit.

You don’t want to be over the top, but you have to go with something on the shorter side because it’s already in the high 20’s and it’s not even afternoon yet. So you lug out the many summer dresses you crammed in there, hoping that one of them will strike your interest.

Some get tossed back into your bag as you filter through them, not making the cut for a variety of reasons— like showing too much of your cleavage.

Yea, a good few of them get ruled out for that reason.

But eventually— and thank god, because you were starting to loose hope— you find one that is perfect for the occasion. It’s all types of flowy and comfortable, but still maintains the pretty connotation that summer dresses are known for.

Before putting it on, you go into the bathroom and do your morning routine— fixing your hair as a final step, but deciding to leave it out since there is hardly any wind outside to make it a mess. Plus it will suit the dress.

You somehow managed to take long enough that the next time you look at your phone you realise it’s nearing 12:15pm a lot faster than you expected. So you hustle to get the rest of your shit together, and make your way out the door.

The walk there is as peaceful as you could imagine, just the sounds of chatter from passer-by’s and birds lingering in trees dotting the sidewalk.

But on the inside you are still panicking. The last time you’d meet him in a cafe was a total surprise. This time it’s planned, and that leaves too much room for your brain to overthink it.

As you finally push through the doors of the cafe you had found your way to, a tiny bell above jingles. But you’re hardly focused on it as you look to the front counter.

Seeing the exact person you were here for already grabbing two drinks from a barista at what you can only assume is a pickup counter.

As he spins around, he catches your momentary surprise, complimented by flushed cheeks. To this he smiles and nods you over with his head.

He looked excited to see you. Like a longtime pair of friends meeting up again after a while apart.

Your feet kick back into gear at his nod, following him over to a table that’s tucked into the corner. He had his pleasing bag slung across the top of the chair.

“Hi lovely,” he says the minute you’re close enough to hear his deep voice.

“Hi Harry.” You smile, heart still beating too fast. The words feeling different as they get spoken from your mouth.

He walks the few steps around the table, closing the gap still between you— and he doesn’t wait for you to hug him, he just pulls you straight into the warmth of his arms.

Wrapping you up in a way that you can smell the cologne lingering on the dip of his neck into his shoulder.

His accent is muffled by your hair as he talks gently, “how’ve you been?”

The common question has your head reeling. In its simplicity is still sweetness.

You pull back, his eyes training on yours, looking keenly at you, awaiting an answer from your almost shy lips.

“I— yes, I’ve been really good thank you.” You nod, how could you not be? Look where your standing, who you’re standing with.

“What about you…?” You ask, watching as the corners of his pink mouth upturn.

He’s freshly shaven, you notice, and your fingers twitch with the need to glide over the smooth skin of his cheek.

You resist as he answers, still relatively closer than you should be out in a public place.

“I’m doing well, even better now.” He raises his eyebrows, a cheeky grin coming on his face.

He revels in blood that rushes into your cheeks, reddening them up like you’ve just run a mile.

“Oh, stop it. You’re a bloody flirt.” You roll your eyes in an attempt to play it off, and you also take a step back to seat yourself in the chair at the table he’d picked.

Maybe he was a flirt at most times. But from his perspective, with you in a dress like that? Not to sound like he’s drawing on the one direction lyrics, but as if you don’t know you’re beautiful.

I mean, sure, he thinks you’re aware that you’re pretty. But in the way it’s working him up, you seem to be clueless.

Because he’s almost stumbling on his words at the sight of you, soft fabric flowing seamlessly over your tan skin, cutting off above your knees leaving him with thoughts that he should not be having in a public space.

But at the same time, he tries to convince himself it’s nothing but a wholesome coincidental friendship. Even though if at any point tabloids get a hold of this, it will be very very far from that.

You’re watching as he looks a little caught up in thought, and you chuckle at it.

The sweet noise breaks him out of it, and he’s grateful for that. It was a rabbit hole he was happy to just not go down right now.

“Can’t help it,” he shrugs, going over to his own seat.

“Now, i need the full story of what happened with your friends luggage at the Singapore airport?”

You let out a laugh, a little surprised he even remembers to bring it up. You had been texting about travel, and told him the time your friend had her luggage lost in a layover between Singapore and London last month.

“I mean, where did it leave it off?” You had explained a partial amount of the story. But told him, if you’d planned another cafe trip it would be a lot easier to explain the ins and outs.

And he was overly excited to watch you tell the tale. Watch the way your hands moved as you animatedly told the story, and the way your eyes get a little lost in thought.

He caught tiny glimpses of it the first time you’d met, but he craved to watch it happen in full. Among other things.

You told him how you’d had 12 hour layover, but that you guys didn’t want to book a hotel since they were so expensive. But you were still meant to collect your luggage— and everyone else but your friend Bonnie got it back.

“She’s Scottish, crazy red hair and she is like a fire cracker. She was actually at the last show, in the front with us, but anyway— so she’s running around Singapore airport accosting all the staff with her stressed out and angry Scottish accent.”

You went back and forth with the many fuck arounds of that day, how you went from halfway across the airport to a misplaced baggage unit per a staffs advice, only for the lady at the front desk to say it wasn’t there— and to go back to the support centre.

“It was not funny at the time,” you said, “but fuck, looking back now it’s pretty good. And it makes a fun story to tell.”

“So where did she actually get her stuff back?” He asks, frowning with a curious smile.

“Oh, like 6 hours after we originally got off the plan. They’d told us to wait up at that little customer support place and after like another hour and a half, some really frazzled guy came running up with it.”

And you laughed at the image in your head, sweaty and looked terrified he’d gotten the wrong bag, “We asked where it had gotten lost, but he just asked if it was certainly ours, then when we said yes he nodded and practically ran the other way.”

Harry was smiling so hard his cheeks hurt.

“God, is that quite a story.”

“See why I said texting it would have been way too hard.” You amend, reaching for the deserted cup of tea you hadn’t even drank out of yet, taking a sip.

Exactly how you like it, and you smile. Watching him watch you drink it.

“Just how you like it, yea?” He asks to confirm. But also lost a little in the way the liquid seamlessly travels from the cup down your throat.

“Yea, perfect.” You nod, clutching the warm cup between your hands, tongue swiping out over your lips.

“Anyways, what about your own crazy travel stories. Since you’ve done plenty of it.” You prompt, unaware of his remaining gaze.

The afternoon went of just like that. Telling stories and sharing funny little anecdotes that had you laughing so hard that tears were about to spill from your waterline.

You slowly forget that it’s Harry Styles you’re sitting with. And of course that sounds weird. But it’s like there came a certain point in the afternoon where he just became simply Harry.

Nothing more, nothing less.

It had been a rather long time you sat in that same cafe with him. So much that the chairs, originally very comfortable, had started to become the opposite as time flew on.

“Are these chairs starting to hurt your ass too?” He asks, humour lacing his tone as he watches you adjust yourself in the chair for the third time in the last 10 minutes.

“Yea, the metal seats are lowkey not it.” At this he laughs, the way you word things somehow being more entertaining than most.

“Well, cmon, I already paid, we can go for a walk if you want?” He rises from his place, and you’ve never stood up quicker.

“Braving the Italian sun at its very brightest are we?” You joke, smiling as he grabs his bag and slings it over one of his broad shoulders.

“Could be a big regret, could also be very scenic.” He says as you grab both your empty cups.

“I forgot to put sunscreen on as well, so might have a different colour forehead to the rest of my body but… oh well.” he shurgs, following you over to the small bin by the cafe door.

You’re immediately thinking of the time he went to a show after going out golfing and he had a sunburnt head.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” And it takes you by surprise that the teasing words made it out of your mouth.

Yet, he seems happily indifferent to it, like it’s of course something you’d know, “Whatever you.”

Your laughing at his response as you hold the door open for him, exiting the cafe into the heat.

A tortured sigh is let out of you both at the swelter of it. The concrete pavement doing nothing but intensify it.

“I underestimate the weather every day here, I’m wearing too many layers of clothing to be dealing with this.”

“Take your hoodie off you dolt.”

He usually keeps layers on so that his tattoos are less visible. Since they’re often a dead giveaway of who he is. So his hands hesitates as they slip to the hem of his jumper.

“Don’t tell me you went out with just a jumper on, no other layers. In Italy?” You shake your head, still smiling as you slowly walk into the shaded part of the sidewalk.

“No— I did.” He laughs, “just m’tattoos usually garner some attention.”

He clarifies, “that sounded really egotistical, not the tattoos themselves, I meant people recognise me easier when they’re out.”

“Oh!” You stumble a little in your thought process. Feeling a little silly for not realising.

“I kind of like… forgot?” You say, coming to a stop as he eventually succumbs to the heat and peels the jumper over his head. Folding it up and popping it into his bag, glancing at you with a tiny breathe of relief at his new found ventilation. Hands moving to tousle with his hair in attempt to flatten it after pulling the jumper over it.

“I mean, i did. too honestly.” He agrees, continuing to walk forward.

You read into that a million different ways. But he makes sure you don’t get confused, “Y/N, don’t look so worried. I just mean you’re a very easy person to get… i dunno, lost in.”

Oh okay? How does one just casually continue putting one foot in front of the other after someone says something like that?

“You flatter me too much.” You roll your eyes, still as awful as ever at masking your shock or adoration for something someone’s said.

“Cmon, you’re just too humble i think.” He bumps you with his shoulder.

You’re laughing at him. But stop dead in your tracks as you stop something across the road.

“H.” You say, and he also comes to a halt. Taking a moment to process your use of his nickname. Like the way it so gently came from you.

Yet you sound almost dire, so he’s looking over where you are, scanning the sunny street for something that could possibly concern you?

For a moment he thinks it may be paparazzi, but this side of town is usually much better in regards to that.

He feels protective of you, “What? Are you okay?”

“There’s ice cream over there.” You say, hand coming up to cover your mouth a little.

A breath of relief fills his lungs, “i— you made it out like this was a life or death situation about t’unfold.”

Your expression turns to a grin, “no, i just love Italian ice creameries!”

“Can we please go and get some?” You glance back to him, and his own smile widens at your face. Gleaming with this unfiltered excitement over something so simplistic.

“Of course we can.” And you’re immediately grabbing his wrist to tug him across the road towards the shop.

“As if I could say no to you, anyway.” He laughs as he keeps up with your quick pace, clearly on a mission.

Once inside the store, with its pink and mint coloured walls and decor, you move to look at the collection of flavours.

The staples such as vanilla and strawberry, but then a small selection of more slightly diverse ones, like peanut butter brownie or salted caramel.

Their cookie dough ice cream looks amazing though, filled with chocolatey chunks of cookie. So you decide relatively fast that’s what you want.

And then you turn to Harry, whose eyes are still darting between flavours indecisively.

“What one do you want?” You ask, and he adverts his eyes to you.

“No I’ll order.” He shakes his head.

“No-no. Let me get this for you, please.” He goes to protest and you nudge him with your elbow, “don’t be stubborn. I want to get you something.”

“I— fine. But know you’re just as pushy as i am.” He scoffs with a laugh.

“I’ll get… maybe chocolate?” He points to it, and you nod.

The older lady at the counter is overly lovely, and you’re rattling off your order to her with a beaming smile.

Harry watches your interaction with her, and how you take a moment to compliment the heart covered apron she was wearing.

His heart trips over it’s own rhythm at the sight.

You pays and he still feels a little guilty, but figures he can make it up to you next time they go out by getting you a cookie or two with your tea.

You come back to his side with the two cones, stacked two scoops tall, and hand one to him.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to though.”

“It’s fine, Harry. Do you wanna find somewhere outside to sit?” You ask, turning to wave at the lady who served you as your slowly exiting the shop.

“Sure, i saw that little bench under a tree a couple shops down near that park.” He nods, taking his turn to lead the way there.

You shortly find the way there, sitting yourselves down on it, looking out onto a small playground with some kids swinging on monkey bars and sliding down the slide.

“Italian ice cream will forever be the best kind of ice cream.” You sigh out with pleasure, licking over the cool scoop.

He unwittingly is blushing at the sight, suddenly batting away mental images at the sight of your pink tongue jutting out of your mouth.

Shaking his head, he pushes them aside. “Definitely. You can tell it’s handmade.”

He busies his own tongue on his own ice cream, only stealing occasional glances to you at his side.

But he can’t help but tilt his cone to you, “Wanna try the chocolate?”

His offer comes as the equivalent of a brick to the head, but you’re invested in making yourself not seem psychotic.

So you nod nonchalantly, “i will, but I have a feeling that’s just because you want some of mine.”

“Mm, maybe I do a little.” He agrees, but any other coherent thought dies where it was in his head at you leaning over to his own cone. Your tongue running over the ice cream, collecting up its sweet residue.

You nod, “That’s so good.” Acting like you’ve got a normal internal monologue right now. Even though she’s hurling things at you that you can’t all process in such a short flash of time.

You just put your mouth where his has been! He is about to do the same thing! His eyes look a little blown out! What the fuck!

Pretty much what it sounds like up there, along with some alarm bells and screaming.

However you just gesture your cone to him, taking mental images of him mirroring what you did just before.

He hums a sound of enjoyment as he pulls back, glancing up at you, pinning you with his green gaze. “Good choice.”

You agree with a slight mumble, shaking your head momentarily to clear your thoughts. Ready to change the subject so you can internally recollect yourself.

“I only regret sitting out here since it’s melting so fucking fast.”

“I know,” he also settles quickly back into the normality of the moment, “i cant eat it quicker than the rate it’s melting.”

“It’s cold though, which is at least a win.”

Conversation trails on as normal while you finish off the ice cream. Discussing if biting the bottom off an ice cream cone is normal or not.

And before you know it you check your phone when you get a text from your mum, asking what time you’re able to call tonight.

She misses you heaps, you can tell. But despite the timezone difference you are making it work.

You also glance up at the time and realise it’s nearing 4pm. And you have just spent majority of the afternoon with Harry.

You also realise you’d agreed to have dinner with all of your friends in one of their hotel rooms tonight.

“Seems like it’s my turn to have to be the one to bail.” You say, popping your phone in your back pocket and looking back at Harry.

“That’s okay, love, what’s the plans for the evening.”

You explain that you’ll go over the the girls hotel room and probably just eat pizza, and then go back to your own room and call your mum for a bit.

He feels a little sad you even have to leave, which is odd, but he nods anyway, “That sounds fun. Solid plan.”

You reluctantly rise from your seat next to him. “So…” you take a tiny breath in, “am I the one picking the next cafe we go to?”

He beams internally at the fact you’re also trying to plan the next time you’re able to meet up with each other.

“I reckon so, Angel.” He stands as well, “I’m good for any day.”

Any plans he has can be rearranged for you.

“Alright!” You feel better immediately knowing you can see him again soon.

“Thanks for the ice cream too, by the way.” He says, walking back over to the pathway with you.

“It’s okay.” You smile, nervously being the one to give him a goodbye hug. A small flutter erupts in your stomach as his hands pull you flush to him around your lower back.

“I’ll see you soon, mkay?”

“Yea. Ill talk to you later.” You remind yourself that he’s easily accessible to talk to. You literally have his number.

“Bye H.” You give him a squeeze, pulling away with a smile, “Bye Y/N.” And you wave as you start the walk back to your hotel. Plenty of things to think about.

———

“Did you guys see the supposed pics of harry today on harryflorals? He was hanging out with someone apparently!” Nina asks everyone.

Only two of you hadn’t, including yourself.

She passes the phone first to you, and you frown.

“I know, looks like it’s taken on a potato.” She says, assuming your furrowed brows are due to the fact the image is really hard to get anything from.

Unless you know that park bench he’s ‘allegedly’ sitting on. And that the blurry figure next to him is almost certainly you— but no one else can tell.

“Yea… shit that is…” You pause, brain freezing a little, “bad quality.”

You hand her phone back. But caption of the post still festering in your head long after the moment is over.

HARRY *SUPPOSEDLY* WITH A GIRL IN ITALY TODAY! but this is the only pic we got 💔

———

ahh and that’s part two! I hope you guys are enjoying this, and I’m so excited to write more about these two. cant wait for you to see what’s in store for them.

thank you again for your patience while waiting for this second part, and to all the lovely people who requested this oneshot to be made into something more.

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@harrystylesgirlie @purple9950 @teamspideyman @rociolunaa21 @spiritofbuddha @lemonhrry @deamus-liv @lquvlly @kuntxrgraudunkelbunt @hsfanficsrecss

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[hcsarchive]

BOXER

nct dream (hint of the boyz)

details ␥ fem!reader x boxer!jaemin (ft. haechan)

genre ␥ smut with a plot, fluff?, lil angst +

━ after getting cheated on, you get invited to an underground boxing match but you stumble into some dangerous territory and that’s where things take a turn.

warnings ➠ explicit language, drugs, alcohol, overstimulation, flirty banter, praise kink, threesomes, corruption kink, fingering, dry humping, knives, rope bunny, blood, cheating, violence, and if there is more please let me know. *some may not be included in all parts*

MINORS DNI

!!these characters are completely fiction and do no represent the idol!!

A/N

Hope you enjoy my first piece of writing! This has been sitting in my drafts for over a year and i finally decided to post it.

part two

PART ONE

You and your boyfriend Sunwoo are on the couch watching a movie until his phone goes off. “babe I have to get going, chanhee will be here soon” he kisses your cheek and he leaves since he was already dressed before you even arrived.

Recently every night before your Friday night shift, you seem to notice he leaves at the same time and uses the same excuses to leave. Of course, you want to hang out with your best friend but you also want to be with him. You hardly get the chance to spend time together and the only time you see one another is after classes and twice a week which is not enough.

You watch him from the corner of your eyes as he gets ready to leave. Where is he going and why isn’t he telling you? Tears start forming around your eyes but holding them until he leaves is the best option. Speaking up about what is hurting you isn’t the easiest to do.

You are tired of Sunwoo throwing you around. He was the perfect boyfriend up until recently he started to be weird and his anger was getting unmanageable. One wrong thing you’ll say and he will start blaming you for everything which made you mad because you tried your best to be good to him.

Sunwoo hated seeing you cry, it angered him….

The door opens and Chanhee spots you crying once again. “Sunwoo again,” he says while rolling his eyes and dropping his bag on the floor. “Come here y/n” he pets your head as you’re crying.

“He left again and I didn’t even get the chance to say anything. Do you know where he goes” you look up at him and he nods no.

“Next Friday is our 6 month anniversary and if he leaves again we are over. I can’t hold on any longer I’m sorry” Both of you stay there in silence while tears fall down your eyes.

“I’m tired of seeing you hurt, do what is best for you and the rest I can take care of” Chanhee wipes your tears and stands up to get you a glass of water.

Two figures come in and Chanhee shoos them away. “Whyyyy we want to spend time with y/n too” Hyunjae screams “y/n tell your bff to stop hogging you” Jacob joins in. You laugh at the tiny blue-haired boy trying to push two buff men out of the living room.

“Chanhee it’s ok I’m fine now,” you say standing up and walking towards them.

“Did Sunwoo leave already? He was supposed to carpool with us” Hyunjae furrows his eyebrows. Chanhee looks at you and with that look, you already know what to do.

“He didn’t mention he was going with you guys” chanhee starts.

“Did he say anything to you?” Jacob points at you.

“Nope he just received a text and told me he has to go” you respond. 

“Weird…do any of you want to come instead?” Hyunjae whips out 3 tickets.

Chanhee takes them and smirks because he did overhear his roommate say something about this  the other day “I’ll pass- take y/n instead, I can cover your shift”

You grab the tickets and it’s a ticket with an unrecognizable location on it. The back has a bunch of little letters that state some sort of agreement.

“Where is this?” You ask.

“It’s an underground boxing show. They have these huge matches and two of the famous boxers are fighting tonight which would be a huge cash price” Jacob nudges you “wanna come”

“Yeah, I’m down. Can I get ready? I have a couple things here already”

“Sure we still have time” Hyunjae looks at Jacob then you.

“awesome” you grab your bag and hug Chanhee goodbye because he is already heading to his room.

“call me if anything happens ok” you both do thumbs up and then you go to sunwoo room to get ready.

*on the way to the match*

You play with your nails nervously because you are still a bit sad about earlier. The boys drive off the road and drive through a concrete tunnel with graffiti all over with glowing red tape which you assume is a symbol. For about 10 minutes of driving through a dirt road, you see loads of trees.

Jacob hands the keys to the valet parking worker and parks his car somewhere. You follow them through another dirt pathway which is lined up with a few securities.

"How did you even find this place," you ask.

"Our trainer transferred here, so he can start working here full time. Supposedly Sunwoo was offered a spot here which I am not surprised because he is a great fighter" Jacob said.

"Oh" is all you can say. The weight off of your shoulder left after hearing that. Of course, you don't like the idea of him getting hurt while boxing but you also were relieved that you finally know what he has been doing.

For now, you just want to have fun since you hardly have time to do anything different around here. You see a gray building and small windows at the top with loads of lights.

The men at the entrance take tickets and they make everyone sign papers while being metal detected. The building is filled with thousands of people and the building was definitely soundproof because you could not hear the amount of talking outside.

You sit in between both of them and look around at everything. The whole place looks like a concert arena, just this one smells like a mix of all sorts of drugs, alcohol, and sweaty men. Your eyes land on the line of girls dressed in provocative costumes and beautiful hair, topped with glittery makeup. You were amazed at how confident they all looked.

The first pair of fighters start and Jacob gasps "It's Lee Jeno he is the second-best boxer in the history of dungeon boxing."

"Who is the first?" You wonder while looking at how fast he is throwing and dodging punches.

"Na Jaemin, this new generation is beating all of the past generation records. Those two together will whip out everyone in here" blood streams down the other opponent's mouth while Jeno’s hand is raised up.

 Lee Jeno wins which makes everyone chant his name while he puffs his chest and throws his fists up for everyone to chant even louder.

More people fight and you have the urge to go to the bathroom. Both of them look very concentrated “I’m going to the bathroom real quick” you say to Jacob.

“I can take you, the best match is at the end,” he says standing up right away but someone behind us yells at us to sit down.

“It’s fine I’ll go on my own I see the bathroom sign” you lie and leave towards a random door before he gets the chance to react.

There were so many people in the pathway that you had to push through as politely as possible but someone bumps into you which makes you bump into this couple towards the back wall. You apologize regardless of them paying attention to you since they were making out.

You felt the back of the jacket being pulled back aggressively once you turned around. “Why the fuck did you bump into us you dirty bitch” you were met with some angry girl’s eyes but then your boyfriend’s?

Her body is still pressed against his. “Pathetic” you grab the girl's arm off and throw it down with all your force.

You pass through two security guards and through the gray doors. It's another door but it’s locked. You were already hysterically crying and trying to twist the door with blurry teary eyes. The security guards just stare.

A couple seconds later the door opens and it’s two other males with clipboards and suits on. “Why were you trying to open the door,” the short one says.

“I was trying to go to the bathroom and this was the nearest door I saw,” You say.

“Where’s your ticket,” the other says.

“I don’t have it with me it’s-“ they cut you off again.

“Ok so not only don’t you have a ticket but you went through the VIP area and passed security to a door you aren’t even supposed to see”

The back doors that you just went into, opened. It was Sunwoo and the girl. “Oh look it’s the little lost girl who harassed us,” she says.

“Do you guys know her?” the short one asked them. Your teary eyes meet Sunwoo’s but he is avoiding your eyes. “Obviously not! why is she even here” she smacks her gum even more.

“Look I wasn’t looking for trouble I just want to know where the restroom is and move on with my day” tears stream down your cheeks on how frustrated you feel.

“Fine I’ll take you to our bathrooms but this is a one-time thing because-'' the short one was about to talk but the girl cut him off.

“Don’t let her in, she is probably undercover investigating us. Treat her like the rest of them” she says.

You were tired of standing there, you were trying to leave without saying anything or else you would start uncomfortably sobbing. “Jisung grab her” before you can even think, you feel a pair of arms lift you up.

“Put me down. Why am i- Can I at least let my friends know where I’m going”

They didn’t respond and all you saw was sunwoo at the end of the hallway walking into another room. You are too stunned to even be hurt about it. As you pass the many gray doors with numbers on them you start to feel sick.

He stops in front of room 07 and it’s the biggest door in the hallway. They both scan their faces then the door opens. After those doors, there are glass sliding doors. Again they scan their face and get a finger scan “Put your belongings in this bin and take off any layers” you take off your bag, shoes, and jacket.

You are left in your dress. The sliding doors open to reveal an elevator. You never expect such a trashy building on the outside to have these things like this on the inside. As you guys are going up, you notice how good-looking they are. “Do not look at us, look at the wall” Renjun says getting out his taser.

“Renjun relax” Jisung says, you laugh then Renjun puts away his taser and says sorry.

“He has trust issues, don't take it personally. We are just dragging you here or else Jia will complain to Haechan and we all hate her” Jisung explains.

“Why do you guys keep her then?” you ask.

“The crowd loves her and we don’t want to look for another person to replace since it’s a whole process. Plus she’s crazy” Jisung says.

“Stop talking to her until we investigate. You’re saying too many names and too much information” Renjun eyes you every three seconds while typing away on his phone. You had no idea who they were, what they did, but you know this is getting serious.

“We will have to keep her here for a month just to make sure she doesn’t say anything” another guy appears with a black silky button-up and dress pants as soon as the elevator doors open.

Your mouth dries up not only because of what he said but how he looks. His eyes are staring at you intensely up and down. 

“We haven’t investigated her yet” Jisung says since Renjun also seems to be confused. 

“No need. I found her right away and although she is not connected to anyone, she is dating the dude that has been seeing one of our show girls so that is a little suspicious. Explain why you are trying to get in and how you even got here.” Haechan questions you.

“I was trying to get out. There is no way I am staying here! i have a job and i’m a student” you try to turn around to leave but he pulls you back. 

"Do not make another move until I say so. I know your weaknesses sweetheart or should i say [your username] " meaning he probably looked through everything you have done online and you catch on to what he means. You don't move but he leans into you "go it" he whispers into your ear and you nod yes.

"Words sweetheart".

"got it" you respond.

"So now you are mocking me" he smirks and towers over you. His tie dangles over your face as you look up at him.

"Renjun, Jisung you guys are good to go now. Make sure Jaemin is prepared. Do not let anyone enter until I say so, including you guys. We will have a meeting about this one later”

"I have a name" he shoves two fingers into your mouth. "You are not aware of what I am capable of doing and who I am so do not even think about talking back to me"

You start to heat up by the way he is speaking to you because he basically knows more than anyone if he got your laptop information. You want him to get even angry at you, so you suck on his finger that is pointing at you and swirl your tongue around. He hovers over you and shoves his fingers deeper into your throat. "Stand up" he lifts his fingers with you attached to them and releases his fingers out of your mouth. You just got cheated on so the most you can do is live up to your fantasies.

Haechan smirks at you then looks where you were seated. You left a small puddle of your wetness. "Now that you have done your little show...it is time for your punishment" he sits down and pulls you to sit on his lap.

He takes off his tie and puts it over your eyes, you hear his belt come off and he buckles it onto your mouth. "Since you don't listen when I tell you not to speak or move" he spanks your ass "once you step into my office you have to obey me pretty girl" his hands grip your hips.

You start to move your hips against his thigh. You cannot stand the heat pulsing through your soaking core. He grips you harder and speeds your movements, moans start pouring through the belt.

"Who knew a person like you would be this desperate that fast. Exactly who I have been looking for but you bark back and I do not like that. You know what bad girls like you get" you nod your head no furiously so he can do something other than guiding you through his clothed thigh.

He demands you to get on all fours on top of the couch. Haechan unzips your dress and unclasps your bra. The belt from your mouth is removed and it is covered in saliva. The belt comes in contact with your ass which releases a couple fluids that are now dripping down your thighs so you cross your legs for some sort of friction. "What part of do not move do you not understand" he grabs both of your hands and belts your wrist. Your face is now smashed into the couch. 

"What do you fucking earn from edging me this long. Look at your fucking pants just whip it out for fucks sake, you are-"

"Shut the fuck up" he puts his knee between your legs and starts rubbing it around. "You need to learn how to keep that mouth shut" he shoved his knee further and pressured more. Your plan trying to hold back the screams fails.

He has a rope in his hands and you smirk "fuck" he rolls his eyes and starts to tie your hands then wraps it around your chest and stomach. Haechan tightens it even more in your thighs and brings the ends of ropes to your ankles.

He was about to put the rest around your mouth but you looked at haechan with lust. His face is spotted with moles and his eyes are framed with beautiful lashes. "You are pretty you know that" he looks at you in the eyes with anger but lust. "Do not sweet talk me"

"Are you going to kill me? you can at least make me cu-" he shoves a gag in your mouth and ties it. Your hair was pulled back by his hands and you looked up at him. He kneels down to be eye level with you "why aren't you scared of me?” 

-END OF PART ONE-

authors note :)

I hope you enjoyed the first part! this is my first time writing these types of things or in general so hopefully, I improve further on. If you have the time please leave some feedback it would mean a lot.

Thank you for reading <3

#nct dream #nct dream fanfic #nct dream au #nct dream smut #nct dream x you #nct dream x reader #nct dream x female reader #mark lee #park jisung #jaemin #jaemin smut #jaemin x reader #haechan #haechan smut #haechan x female reader #haechan x reader #jeno #lee jeno #chenle #renjun #sunwoo #the boyz #chanhee #the boyz new

[tojitsukaisen]

A Medicinal Misunderstanding

obey me demons (brothers, Diavolo, Barbatos) x reader

genre: crack

warnings: TW drugs, alcohol

notes: this idea has been stuck in my head for a while now, and this has been sitting in my drafts for ages, I just didn't know how to finish it, I hope you lovelies do enjoy. feedback is super welcome!

Imagine attending a dinner party in the Demon Lord's castle and while the brothers, Barbatos and Diavolo are enjoying (maybe a little too much) Demonus, all sorts of boozy talk goes around the table. Diavolo and Satan, who are both seated on either side of you are in a heated discussion about the importance of law-restrictions concerning imported goods from other regions in the Devildom and you've been trying to block out their voices since you truly, with all due respect, cannot find it within you to give a shit considering your post-exam exhaustion. Meanwhile across from you Barbatos is indulging a drooling Beel in describing his famous baked goods recipes in detail while Asmodeus is so lost in his own reflection in his spoon his tears are freely flowing down his delicate cheeks. Mammon and Levi are currently holding a cheesy pick-up line contest, where surprisingly or unsurprisingly Levi has the lead, and even Lucifer can't hide the amused little quirk of his lips as he absentmindedly listens in on their conversation while he pretends to focus on Satan ramble on about different bills of legislation he read about the other day. And as you look down below the table you find the youngest brother happily snoring away with a 500-year-old Demonus bottle in one arm and your leg tightly in the other.

Everyone is involved in their own little world and while you love listening to everyone's drunken ramblings, you can't help but feel a little left out. Demonus doesn't affect humans, and because there aren't really many humans in the Devildom, there are no drinks that specifically cater to the inebriation of them. Not that you normally mind, but being surrounded by your second family whilst they are enjoying their lowered inhibitions and are looking a little dopey with their rose-colored cheeks and slightly lidded eyes, you find yourself sighing and off-handedly mumble you kinda miss being intoxicated and join in on blowing off some steam.

No one replies to your comment, but slowly the conversation drifts back from the little bubbles that were created to the entirety of the group and soon you're back to being part of the conversation and laughing along with the rest of them. The remainder of the evening is spent in laughter and some tears (it's Asmo, he's an emotional drunk after he hits bottle number 3), but you overall had a good time and by the time you're tucked back in bed at the House of Lamentation, you've forgotten all about your little FOMO outburst and drift happily to sleep.

There is one demon, however, that did not forget that easily.

Three weeks later, after some gruelling Student Council work that may or may not have mostly been having to deal with Beel once again eating the new common room chairs and Mammon having stolen yet another set of valuable tomes and maps to sell on Akuzon, the Prince decided it was worth celebrating your first month of being a part of the Student Council with a party at his castle.

After Asmodeus dressed you in the newest designer dress by Devildom's own Loki Vuitton, you and your seven companions arrive at the lavishly decorated ballroom of the Demon Lord's castle. You dread having to stand on a raised platform with all noble demon eyes scrutinizing your every move while Lord Diavolo gives a short speech in your reverence and applauds your dedication to RAD, but it passes soon enough (although not before you almost trip on your heels when you descend back to the dance floor, but luckily Lucifer, ever the gentleman, manages to grab your upper arm before you face-plant in front of the Devildom's gentry).

You don't really question Diavolo's enthousiastic request to follow him after the party starts to die down a bit as he mentions something about an afterparty for the nine demons and their reputable human, but some doubt starts creeping up on you as you hear the bi-colored-nailed and white-haired demon giggle behind you. You barely have time to throw them a questioning look as you're pulled into a spacious and dimly lit room with modern looking furniture big enough to seat the ten of you, resembling one of the fancier rooms of the Corvo Hotel in the human realm. As you scan the room, you have to do a doube-take as your eyes land on the enormous glass coffee table in the middle of the room.

However it is not just a coffee table. It is a coffee table covered in something you'd only think possible in Hollywood movies about mobsters and filthy rich socialites. Before you lies an obscenely large array of drugs and alcohol, enough to kill you about a hundred times over. There is nothing that can prepare you for the next thing that comes out of the red-haired Prince.

"Tadaaaaa!" Diavolo gestures with open arms to the table in front of him with his wide signature smile, a gesture that normally warms and charms you within seconds, but it's something that this time around leaves you with nothing but an open mouth and a twitch of your eye.

"Excu- I'm sorry, I- I jus-, what is 'tadaa'?!" you whisper-shout incredulously.

"I took notice of your critical assessment of the dinner party a while back, and I must apologize for my forgetfulness when it comes down to your humanity. The entire goal of this exchange is to include humans and angels alike in our cultural activities, and I was amiss in not accounting for the fact that Demonus and other inebriating substances of the Devildom do not work on human bodies. I never intended for you to feel left out, so consider this my reparations."

"M'kay. So... Okay. I- I still need more explanation." you manage to splutter out.

"Well, you see, I had Barbatos go up the human world and find the absolute best quality substances he could find, so you could have your pick. No stone was left unturned. So. Tadaa?" he gestures a little less enthousiastically, sensing your confusion.

"My lord is quite right, I did not leave anything up to chance. What you see here laid out before you is the crème-de-la crème, as the human expression goes, of human-world narcotics. I can vouch for that myself, as the contacts I have used were meticulous in their sourcing and brewing. No grimm, or rather dollar, euro or yen, was spared. You need not worry about the quality." the butler lays out his explanation matter-of-factly.

"Is that meth?!" you shout while inspecting the arrangement before you.

"The man I bought it from informed me that it was of "Breaking Bad quality." he says with his hands making air quotes, "What that particular phrase means, however, is lost on me, but he assured me it was effective."

"It's a popcultu- never mind that. Listen, not that I'm not touched how much you want to include me, I am! This is weirdly enough ...so sweet, but this is.. This is not at all what I was talking about. I thought maybe some wine...a beer? Not stuff to put me into a coma... I mean I'm pretty sure this is a horse tranquilizer... And wh- what is that?!"

"That would be Ayahuasca, a psychedelic, some have said it connects them to a higher power, ancestors even." Barbatos explains.

"You want me to trip balls and see my grandmother during a dinner party?!"

"You could see your grandmother at any time, since she was sent down here when she died" Diavolo mutters with a frowned expression.

"MY NANA IS IN HELL?!"

"I think we might be losing track of the matter at hand" Lucifer sighs while pinching the bridge of nose and shooting a glare at Diavolo.

You almost flinch at the sound of the voice of the oldest brother. You were so lost in your shock and your whiplash you forgot they stood behind you. You quickly spin on your heels.

"You two," you point at Asmodeus and Mammon with narrowed eyes "You knew about this, didn't you?!"

"Oi, don't go accusing the Great Mammon, I dunno what you're talkin' about, human! I dunno know jack shit!" Mammon points back accusingly.

"Imagine that" Levi says sarcastically under his breath, earning him an elbow in the ribs from his white-haired brother.

"I did." Asmo smirks back at you.

"You assured me this was the right pick" Lord Diavolo looks at the fifth-born dumbfounded with a pout on his face, gesturing at the pile of narcotics.

"I'm sorry, this was way too funny of an opportunity to pass up." Asmo laughs airily. "Besides, this was the perfect chance to learn some naughty things about our cute little human~" he coos at you.

"Well, I'm really glad you didn't make this weird" Satan grimaces at his younger brother.

The lot of you spend the next few minutes so focused on the discussion, you all miss the event that is unfurling next to you. As everyone is talking and shouting over each other, there suddenly is a high-pitched screech that quiets the room almost immediately.

"BEEL, NO!" Leviathian cries out in an inhuman wail.

You look dumbfounded at the orange-haired demon that just inhaled the entire surface of the coffee table. "Oh. My. God. NO! BEEL!" You fall to your knees and try to drag him up, yet unable to do so. "Oh my god, oh my god, okay, okay, it's okay, I had a dog when I was younger and it ate a buttload of chocolate once, we just have to get him to throw up and he'll be fine" you ramble on.

"A dog? Why are you comparing him to a dog?" Mammon shouts.

"I don't know, Mammon, I don't know the protocol for when a demon eats multiple pounds of different hard drugs at once!" you bellow.

"He'll be fine, he's eaten worse", Belphie deadpans.

"I-what, are you sure?" you're unconsciously rubbing Beel's back with one hand and holding his cheek in the other. "Of course," Barbatos adds. "Human world narcotics don't affect demons. I dare say that this was better than Beelzebub eating the expensive new chairs we ordered for the common room." The butler softly scolds an apologetically looking Beel.

"Well. That solves that problem. What a night..." Lucifer sighs.

You finally calm down a bit and release the breath you had been holding and whisper:

"Yeah. After all this I could use a drink...

or something stronger."

You smile smugly when you feel every demon in the room scowl at you. (please picture that one meme with the white cat that has all the knives pointed at them, that's it, that's you)

#obey me fic #obey me x reader #obey me x y/n #obey me x mc #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beel #obey me belphie #lucifer x reader #diavolo x reader #barbatos x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader #belphegor x reader #satan x reader #obey me crack #obey me! crack #diavolo crack #asmodeus crack

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Silver Lining 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, speech impediment, bullying and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: silverfox!Bucky Barnes

Summary: You have an unpleasant encounter with an older man.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

"So your sister will be coming by next week with the little ones," your mother declares as you stand at the sink, scrubbing away the remnants of roast beef and potato. "You'll get to play auntie for the day."

"Mhmm," you nod, "what about Justin?"

"Oh, your brother's down visiting with his fiance's family. He said he'd try to make if for Christmas Eve but you know how her family is."

You sniff and pretend to know. You really don't. It's all hearsay to you. You don't hear much from either siblings; they have lives, you just happen to be related.

"S-sounds great," you utter as you put another plate in the rack.

"Oh, honey, you should just use the dishwasher," she says.

"It's f-f-fine, this works," you insist.

"Well, what about you? What are you up to?" She leans on the counter.

"I..." you don't know what to say. You need a lie, anything to appease her. Your brother's engaged, your sister has the white picket fence and you have nothing, "oh, I h-have a job interview."

"You do?" She sounds thoroughly disbelieving.

"Uh, yeah, w-well," you stammer through, trying not to give away your deceit, "since n-no one wants to h-hire me in my f-field, I f-found something new."

"That's exciting," she chimes, "what is it?"

"Uh, I w-want to see i-if it turns out b-before I say," you give a tight-lipped smile, "don't want to d-disappoint you again."

"Sweetie, you're not a disappointment," she hums, "I'm always happy to see you trying."

You look down at the sink and shrug. Behind that comment is the inference that you weren't trying before. That you haven't been. The long nights with vivid nightmares don't exactly motivate you and you've been all but blacklisted as an executive assistant. Even admin roles aren't responding. Even if you do get a bite, the job market is drawn out and tedious.

"Thanks, mom."

"Just... try not to mope around the kids," she chides, "it's Christmas."

You flutter your lashes, "sure, mom."

That's what you are to everyone; weak, pathetic, useless. No, don't do that. You'll make another appointment with Lisa, she always knows what to do.

☕️

Well, this is it. A last resort. One of those freelancing websites that pays pennies. It's better than nothing and will keep you from having too big a gap on your resume. You could easily do the writing gigs, easy money for transcription. You apply to a few of those and scroll on.

You sit up as you see a particular posting that interest you. Oddly enough, the pay isn't half bad. It's also labeled as 'may lead to ongoing work'. Well, well, well, now that's something.

You click into the posting for 'Podcast Script Writer' and review the details. A sample is required for application and lucky enough, you have lots of those hanging around. If it wasn't for your stammer, you'd have an episode done by now. You deleted enough recordings to the point of giving up. Well, this is a solution. You can get your work out there without having to embarrass yourself.

You go through the application, putting in your info and editing a draft before attaching it to the application. You just hope it's thorough enough. You never really let anyone else see and hitting submit makes your stomach flip. With the final click, you close your laptop and quickly get up. Alright, you're not going to dwell on it. If you hear anything, you'll worry then.

You try to read but can't focus. It just makes you think of the posting and your application. Oh jeez, imagine you're rejected but worse, they tell you you've done everything wrong.

Appointment! You can't forget that. You login to the app and put in a request for a Zoom appointment that week. Alright, you're getting things done, you can't say you've done nothing.

You put a video on your phone and lean it on the pop out grip, propping it up on your mattress to watch the compilation of sitcom moments cut together on Youtube. Your mind wanders and your eyes begin to sag as the day shrouds you in fatigue. You slip into a shallow doze as the glare of the screen flickers over you.

The distant clack of keyboards and clicking of mouses needles behind your ears. It's as if you're trapped in a bubble of silence, all colours and noised dampened by the unseen wall. You shudder as you hear his voice, the only thing that's clear. Your name crawls up behind the shell of your ear with his breath as his hands settle on your hips. Your body aches as every muscles tightens and your bones lock in place. Please, no, not again...

"Sir..." you try to speak but nothing comes out. He's always tugging your skirt up, his hand is around your throat. You close your eyes as tears stain your cheeks.

You wake with a start, your phone black as the battery's drained from neglect. You sit up and pant, looking around your dark bedroom, the moonlight limning shadows sinisterly. You gulp and fall back, watching the ceiling as the tears rise in reality and sting your eyes.

If you'd just said no. A simple word. Even you can manage that.

You lay for a while until your restlessness boils over. You get up and plug in your phone. The screen lights up as you rub your eye socket and yawn. There's an email notification in the taskbar. Probably more ads for things you can't afford.

You pull down the menu but find ‘Application Update’ emblazoned across the notification. Oh wow, that was fast. You keep yourself from tapping on the email.

You don't know if you can handle another rejection. You'd rather languish in the uncertainty. You've been doing so for so long, it almost feels safe.

#dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #drabble #series #au #silverfox #silver lining #mcu #marvel #avengers #winter soldier

[callmelinamfsnow]

“How Old Are You?”

Ch. 2: Four Days Later Ch. 3: The Beginning of The Date

Warnings: Spoilers for TUA S3

Five Hargreeves x Reader

Word Count: 1,243 (give or take)

a/n: This is a rough draft of a fic I thought of the other day. I wanted to post it and get some hype for when I fully finish it. Also the ending of S3 was bullshit.

“Hey”

Five looked up from his coffee to the girl who had just slid her upper body to rest onto the counter, hair falling as she looked up at him. “Hello” was all Five said but straightened his composure and gave her a smile.

The universe has just been reset. His problems had been solved. He wasn’t about to start off one of his first interactions by being an asshole.

“How old are you?” She asked, squinting her eyes at him a bit as if she could figure it out if she scanned his face more.

Here we go.

“Why do you care?” He replied after a sigh.

“Kind of need to know your age before I can tell you” she continued, sitting up a bit. “Are you at least over 18?”

He paused for a second and thought, while taking her appearance in. She was wearing a simple ripped black jeans, white tank top, and jeans jacket but he was intrigued.

He’d noticed his body had seemed to start aging a bit more over the past three weeks. One of the only positive things to keep him going. It seemed he was at about 18 and he wasn’t about to claim to be younger.

“Yes. I am”

“Great.” She smiled and pushed some of her hair behind her ear. “Well now I won’t be embarrassed that I tried to flirt with an underaged kid”

He perked up at that.

“Go on” he smiled and turned himself in the stool to face her. A small smile trying to spill out as he took another sip of coffee. “Not sure what more I have to say. I notice you in your cute suit when you came in and thought you were interesting, but couldn’t figure out if you were of age.” She explained after giving a shrug. Then leaned in closer to him and continued in a low voice, “my friend bet me $10 and the bill if you were older so I’m feeling pretty lucky”

He chuckled at that which caused her to smile a bit. “Well congratulations” he smiled and patted her hand, leaving his nearby when he placed it back on the counter. He was enjoying his first somewhat romantic interaction with a real woman in a while, and he wasn’t going to let her think otherwise. “Does your friend know about your flirtatious plans with me?” Five asked, quickly noticing the simple hoops and necklace she wore.

“Well me saying you seemed cute was what struck up the conversation, and while they did tease me about doing it they aren’t fully aware of it, no” she answered, keeping eye contact that made something in the pit of his stomach churn. She was very attractive, and admittedly looked nothing like Dolores which was new. “Is that because you were afraid of the possibility you’d be flirting with a high schooler?” Five asked as he finished his coffee. She laughed at that and shook her head a bit before replying, “Yes. Would not like to have that moment drawn out anymore that needed to”

“(Y/N) we need to go soon. Who’s paying?” Someone called over from a table causing the woman infront of Five to look over. He couldn’t help but look her over a bit better before he looked at the table. “You are” she smiled back, watching the friend roll their eyes and groan in defeat as the waitress approached with the bill. “Well, looks like I’m going to have to be going soon” she said as she turned to Five, “are you seeing anyone?”

“Not at all” he smiled

“Mind if I give you my number?”

“I’d love nothing more”

“Great” she bit her lip and grabbed a piece of paper and pen from her pocket. Five watched her write her number and what looked like a small note on it, chuckling when he leaned over to get a look and she moved her body to cover it up.

“Is that going to be it for you?” The waitress asked, pointing to Fives coffee. “Oh, uh, yes thank you” he nodded and pushed it closer to her. It then hit Five that he had no way of paying for it, and the waitress seemed to know it as she walked off eyeing him.

“What’s wrong?” (Y/N) asked, folding up the paper. “Just realized I have no money to pay for this” he sighed quietly, watching out for an employee. “How much is your tab?” “Just this coffee. Probably five dollars with a little tip. Maybe I can find some…” he mumbled the end to himself as he looked around. The sound of (Y/N) rummaging through her pockets followed by her smacking something onto the counter rang through his ears, the latter startling him a bit. “Here. On me” she smiled and slid a $5 bill to him. “You just helped me win a free meal and $10 so I guess it’s the least I could do” she teased at the end, rolling her eyes playfully.

“Thank you (Y/N)” Five hummed, his eyes focusing on her smile for a second until he noticed her bite her lip. He felt another churn in his stomach and met her eyes again, receiving a cocked eyebrow from her. “I’ll pay you back” he added and before she could say it was fine he continued “on our first date”. He let out a cocky smile when she notice her blush lightly and bite her lip again as a small smile spilled from them. “Well alright then…” she trailed off, suddenly realizing she hadn’t gotten his name yet and Five froze for a second. This was a new universe apparently and he could start over. Maybe a new name that drew less questions, but he hadn’t exactly had time to think of a new one.

“I’m Five” he said holding his hand out for her to shake. Her eyebrows creased in confusion and her head tilted to the side a bit as her hand went to shake his. “That’s a cool and different name” she nodded, going silent when Five took her hand and kissed her knuckles gently. “Well aren’t you cute” she hummed teasingly causing Five to chuckle. “Why thank you, you’re quite beautiful yourself” he offered back and gently let her hand go.

“(Y/N)! We got to go” her friend called from the table again. “Okay I’m coming” she said slightly annoyed as she glanced back at them. “Guess I should let you go before your friends get upset with you” Five took the piece of paper and put it in his pocket for when he’s be able to get a phone to call her with. “Yeah” (Y/N) sighed, tucking some of her hair behind her ear. Five took the $5 bill and slid it to her waitress, mumbling a “keep the change”. “Well good bye (Y/N).” He smiled, taking her hand and kissing it again. “Bye Five. Looking forward to hearing from you” she smiled.

Giving each other a quick nod she turned and walked back to her friends. Five watching her the whole time, catching her every time she would glance over. Then right before the group exited she gave him a wave which he returned and then watched her disappear into the night.

Fuck he needed to get a phone, and fast.

#five hargreeves imagine #five hargreeves imagines #five hargeeves x you #five hargreeves x plus size reader #five hargreeves #five Hargreeves x reader #five Hargreeves x f!reader #five Hargreeves fluff #tua x you #tua imagine #tua blurb #tua fic #tua five hargreeves #tua spoilers #tua s3 spoilers #lina once wrote

[bigalockwood]

August and Rousseau

I’ve outed myself as the #resident horse expert (thanks @youngroyalsconfession for the title I’m genuinely elated bc I’ve never gotten my own online moniker lmao) and I think it’s time that I contributed some more unasked for and useless horse knowledge to the YR discussion. This has been sitting in my drafts for ages and since I don’t see myself finding any time to research this further in the next few weeks, I thought I might as well post it before season 3 drops. Plenty of posts have been made about how the August-Rousseau situation could play out, and I don’t want to talk about those theories today, because I have anything to add right now.

As has been pointed out many times, horses are expensive, at least in western, industrialized countries. They used to be a necessity for most people, because they were a mode of transport, used to harvest food etc. This is still true in many parts of the world, but not Western and Northern Europe. There, horses have become a luxury, and are usually notoriously expensive, especially if you can’t keep them on your own grounds and produce your own hay. And even then- vet bills are painful to look at, and there are plenty of other costs, too. So, August most definitely won’t be able to pay for the monthly expenses that come with having a horse, at least not if he gets no financial aid by the court or doesn’t sell some of his assets. And even then, I’m not sure what they would say when they learn that they are financing a horse of all things (especially since August has zero interest in or knowledge of horses). In the following you can find a rough overview of just how expensive owning a horse is. Keep in mind, these numbers are generalized. I’m not from Sweden, but another European country, and even if I were, prices fluctuate a lot depending on the success of harvest, proximity to large cities, services offered by the stable, etc.… But maybe it can give those of you less familiar with horses a better idea of just how fucked August actually is.

Stable: this variable is already very hard to judge. You can find fairly cheap barns, but you usually have to do at least part of the work yourself, too (just imagine August mucking out Rousseau’s stall lmao). Feed is often included in the price, doesn’t cover any special needs, though (hay is included, but anything else you have to buy yourself). However, Hillerska is a prestigious school. They have a groom (our beloved Marcus) to take care of everything the owners don’t want to do (mucking out, feeding, taking horses out to the pastures and then back inside). You can find yourself with anywhere between 200- 600 Euros per month, depending on the services offered. Knowing what we do about Hillerska, you can expect the cost to be at the higher end.

The farrier should come every six to eight weeks and, again, costs depend on what work needs to be done. It can be anywhere between 50 Euro (bare hoof, only need to be trimmed) to close to 200 Euro (horse shoes for all four hooves). As long as Rousseau isn’t being exercised he’ll most likely only need a trim. 

Insurance depends greatly on your horse and its value (it’s hinted that he is valuable in the show) but generally costs between 50 to 150 Euro per month where I’m from.

Vet costs (assuming your horse is healthy and you only need to get the recommended vaccinations and check-up’s as well as anthelmintics) will usually be around 400 Euros a year and can go way up, depending on whether your horse has any special needs. Rousseau seems to be healthy, so we’ll assume he only needs the bare minimum.

Based on what he definitely needs to buy/pay for, the annual cost would be somewhere between 3400 and 12.400 Euro. Which is a super rough estimate and doesn’t even cover any extra expenses (Rousseau most certainly doesn’t only eat hay but also other feed specifically for sport horses). A horse can easily cost up to 21.400 Euro per year. August saves some money because he doesn’t take any training sessions and thus doesn’t need to pay for a trainer. He could also lend Rousseau to the school and let other students ride him; a deal like that would reduce how much he needs to pay for the monthly care of Rousseau.

But either way: August has to pay between 295 and 1800 Euro per month. If he wasn’t struggling financially, he probably wouldn’t even notice such a “small” expense. As it is, he can’t even pay his own tuition. There’s no way he’ll be able to pay for a horse.

(Would also like to, again, state that this is extremely generalized; I just wanted to highlight how much a horse usually costs).

#young royals #august horn #rousseau #yr #young royals analysis #sorry for this weirdly specific niche topic? #talking shit for the hell of it

[0oolookitsme]

A Day Made Better

Type- Blurb

Verse- Marvel-Actress!Y/n x Marvel-Actor!Harry and Marvel-Actor!Tom Holland

Warnings- None that I can see, but please do tell me if there's any I should put!

Word Count- 912

A/N- I'm slipping back into writing a lot now. Like, I've literally got two more fics saved up and ready to be posted in my drafts and I'm onto working another one. You believe me now? Good. I hope you enjoy reading this <3

Description- Y/n isn't having the best day of her life, Tom can't seem to stop falling and Harry is just too good at making people happy with his little jokes.

It'll be a lie if they were to say that they 'didn't even try' to keep Harry from joining the duo of Tom and Y/n.

Cause they did, they really did try their best. Alas, sweat broke on their foreheads as they lost the unconfirmed battle. But that doesn't mean they are at peace now, oh that's such a no. Perhaps that's why they were gatekeeping Harry, to save them from any greater number of chaotic plans plotted against them.

Every morning, Harry is the first to arrive at the set. Followed by eating-something-Y/n and then a disheveled Tom. And everyone loves their presence but somedays they want nothing more than to tie the three up and throw them in some random deep pit.

Today, majority of the marvel actors are on the set because of some random interview filming which apparently required to them to be on the set. This made the lot who wasn't in the camera view feel annoyed- not sure with the interviewers or with the ones who are being interviewed.

Whatever the option, Y/n is most definitely annoyed with both.

She's been asked to come on set at 5am in the morning, since the last two weeks. Well, everyone has been. But today wasn't like just any other days, no. She had gotten her periods last night, which she blames to make her cry last night. In the morning when she woke up, she was met with her unpleasantly puffed-up eyes, causing her to cry almost again especially when her hair wouldn't get in a proper braid.

At the end, she washed her face with cold once again, looked away from the mirror and threw her hair in a hand curated bun. And, as expected, it looked better than anything.

Then when she arrives on set, she sees Tom on the ground looking like an embarrassed five-year-old, and Harry who's standing right behind him, clutching his stomach and laughing his lungs out while providing his friend with his arm for support.

That did turn the corner of her lips up a tad bit. But when she was told how there wasn't going to be any shooting done today because of interview she and the other two are not a part of, she felt like ripping her hair off her scalp.

She had asked if they could go back then, but the answer she received might be the reason she's sitting in a corner as she registers the fact that this day was going to go down the sink of moodiness.

"Let me tell you a joke," Harry came to sit down beside her, his thigh touching with hers and y/n's not sure if it's because his love language is physical touch or just an unintentional thing. Either thought makes her smile a little. "But you'd have to participate in this one- just once!"

"So, a papa tomato, a mummy tomato and a baby tomato were walking down the street. The baby tomato was walking too slow and got a little behind the parent tomatoes. That made papa tomato mad, and he squished the baby tomato, telling him to: 'ketchup!'" Harry shrieked at the last word and started giggling himself before fixing his eyes on y/n's mouth to see if it made her smile even.

It's like she's laughing, but she doesn't want to laugh- like she wanted to remain sad. Which makes Harry bump his shoulder with hers and laugh along.

Y/n feels something brush on her back before the third musketeer's voice follows. "What's so funny, eh?" He asks as he tries his best to sit down in his kinda tight skinny jeans. "Tell me too, my day hasn't been very heartful either. It's been rather hurtful," he continues himself, squeezing out an unexpected laugh by the other two.

"He's been falling on his ass all morning long," Harry tells y/n as he calms down, still giggling every once in a minute. Though when he sees y/n frown in amusement, he goes on full tryna-convince-her mode. "Like literally!"

"I've fallen what, three times? And what did you do about it, other than wheezing huh?" Tom defends himself from the other side.

"What else could you expect me to do? Massage your arse??"

This snatched a wheeze from y/n's lungs as her body shrinks down. Clutching her stomach, she rises back up and starts to clap while still laughing hysterically.

"Shut up," Tom mumbles, the tops of his cheeks reddening as if someone pinched them.

Harry sputters out laughs as y/n and Tom tell him more about the pranks they have pulled on the rest of the cast members before. But none of them pulls a laugh as loud as the can toppled over Tom's head does.

"Should I throw the other two too, or are you guys coming here to get them?" Sebastian shouts from quite afar with two more cans in his hands.

"No wait! We're coming!" Y/n manages to string the words together in the middle of another wheel of laughter, all while Harry helps her up and Tom cusses out Sebastian.

With the cans finally in their hands, they come back to sit back at their spots. The time followed by goes like that, Y/n spilling her drink as she opens her can, Tom almost slipping over the same drink as he stands up to enact a scene from his favourite movie he was describing and Harry throwing lame jokes here and there.

Tagging- @onecrazydirectioner @tatehuxley222 (you both requested for a part 2 :)) | @marvel1dhp @eloquentree (you both asked to be tagged in all the works <3)

Feel free to reply under any of my original posts or send in an ask requesting to be added in the tag list <3

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles fluff #best friend!harry #eternals!harry #eternals #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #bestfriend!tomholland #marvel cast x actress!reader #actress!reader #marvel!actress!reader #<333

[dabislilbaby]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤

Two ppl actually tagged me in this so thank you @malewifetouya and @happyely 🖤🖤🖤

Sadly some of my most favorite projects are ones that are still sitting in my drafts unfinished 😭 but out of all the ones I've posted these are the ones I'm most proud of <3

"Come Home" — Deku:

I don't even know if this would be considered a fic?? Cuz honestly this was such a short little thing that I wrote in under like 15 minutes 😭 probably the shortest amount of time it's taken me to ever write literally anything. But it was after I watched S6 E136 and literally that night I had a dream where this whole scene was played out in my head. And it just felt so dramatic in the right ways and just raw emotion that I had to write it down. And it's STILL my most liked post on this entire blog😭 but honestly understandable bc sometimes I go back and read it and I'm just like "damn wait I wrote that????" lmfaoo

"Only for you, Toshi" — Shinsou:

Completely opposite from the last one, this is actually the longest thing I've ever written. (that's posted anyway, there's a few longer still in my drafts) I just feel like Shinsou doesn't get enough love but he definitely deserves it😭❤️ all my friends that read it said they really enjoyed it and I'm just really happy with how it came out after working on it for a couple weeks, and that not touching it for a few months and then coming back to it only to finish it in like 2 days lmao

"Attention" — Dabi:

Now this wouldn't be a post about my fics if I didn't include something for my absolute favorite character in the entire show🖤 this fic was very self indulgent bc I'm such a brat🤭 and I'm convinced that Dabi is the king of brat taming. Fun fact, the outfit I described is something I literally own in my closet 😂

"Secrets" — BakuDeku x reader [UNFINISHED]:

This is a multi-part series I'm co-writing with my bsf @haru-x-ren on a joint account we made. (@bunny-x-haru if you'd like to follow) it's currently still a work in progress with only a few parts released, but it is a continuation of a 2 part fic I wrote when I first started called "You're the Only Thing That Makes Sense" — Bakugo So I do recommend reading this one first before Secrets for context and background info. I feel like you can really see my growth in writing from then to now, cuz that was like literally the second thing I ever posted lol. And Haru was literally my biggest fan bc he's the one that got me into writing fanfic<3 so after he read it, he had this absolutely BRILLIANT idea (spoiler) to take the scene I wrote where bakugo and deku were caught fighting after school hours (similar to that scene from season....2? When Bakugo learned about OFA) and turn it into a BakuDeku love triangle and I was honestly obsessed with the idea

And lastly

"For Your Eyes Only" — Dabi:

Another one for my fav<3 this one was for his birthday and is very nasty🤭 also with a little bit of fluff at the end bc I am indeed a hopeless romantic with no romance🥲 also, the cover photo is most definitely the reaction I was imagining when he walks into the room lmao

Side Note:

I know it's been a while since I've posted any writing and I am so sorry 😭 I guess I've just been in a little bit of a funk when it comes to my creativity lately. I mean I've got plenty, and I do mean PLENTY of ideas written down, but Im having a hard time executing them and turning them into something I can post. But I promise I'll get back to posting as soon as I can and I'm really sorry to everyone who has been waiting for stuff😭 I appreciate your patience❤️

Here's 5 other writers I recommend<3

@cathwritestragediesnotsins @aquadenks @kemakoshume @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic + any other writers who'd like to make ur own posts<3

#dabi #mha dabi #bakugo x reader #kacchan #mha deku #bakugou x deku #izuku mydoria #shinsou hitoshi #bnha shinsou #bnha dabi #touya todoroki #bakugou x reader #katuski bakugou #bakugo #bakugo katsuki x reader #bnha deku #dekubaku #deku #my hero academia shinsou #shinsou x reader #mha shinsou #fic recs #my fics #mha writing #mha fanfiction

[bbcphile]

For the fic writers ask meme: 17 and/or 37

Thanks for the asks, @the-surreptitious-albatross , and sorry it has taken me some time to respond!

17. Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

I usually write the scenes in order, from start to finish. The closest I come to doing things out of order is that sometimes I will jump ahead and do a detailed outline of a later chapter if I think of ways I want it to be in conversation with an earlier one (eg. if there are interesting parallelism, or thematic commonalities), and often my outlines start with bullet points and then end up basically being very rough drafts, complete with pages of dialogue and the emotional beats or notes on where to add descriptions. And I guess with my current long MLC fic, I wrote a few drafts of the first few chapters, then did 15k of outlines/incredibly rough drafts for later chapters, and then the other day realized what was bugging me about how I had written the first chapter, so I went back and completely rewrote it. So I guess in that regard, I jump around, because I might go back and totally reconceive of a chapter based on something I want to do with character development later. (This is why I don’t post fics on AO3 until they’re done; I do a truly absurd amount of rewriting.)

37: Talk about your current wips.

I’m honored that you want to hear about it! I actually have 4 for Mysterious Lotus Casebook fics (3 with absurdly detailed outlines, but only one that I’m actively drafting), so for now, I’ll just talk about the one I’ve worked the most on. 

Post-canon (OT3) Beach fic:

tw/cw: suicide attempt, off-page non-consensual medical procedure

When Li Lianhua’s shiniang tried and failed to sacrifice herself to save Li Lianhua against his will, he fled to the Donghai beach, intending to die before she could catch up with him because he can’t endure the idea that someone else he cared about might die for him. Di Feisheng and Fang Duobing find him first and save his life for the moment, but are horrified to discover the truth that Li Lianhua can’t lie his way out of: that the damage from the survivor’s guilt of everything he’s been through is just as dangerous as the damage from Bicha poisoning. With each of them reeling from the traumas of the past year (Li Lianhua from Shan Gudao’s betrayal and now medical PTSD from his shiniang’s procedure, Fang Duobing from almost losing Li Lianhua and being terrified to let him out of his sight in case he goes straight back to the water, and Di Feisheng from the abuse at the hands of Jiao Liqiao), they have to figure out how to face everything they pushed aside to save the country, and in the process, learn that the hardest battles aren’t fought with swords.

To read an excerpt, follow this link: (x)

I was going to write up synopses for the others, but I’m out of energy (and don’t want to sit on this ask for another week or so to write them out), so I’ll just do quick teaser/keyword summaries for the others:

Missing Scene Fic: Di Feisheng’s first night in Lotus Tower (featuring him finding the Yinzhou armor being used as a potholder, his feelings on having his meridians and qi blocked, and helping LLH after a nightmare so it doesn’t wake up FDB and give away his identity.)

Pre-Canon: Yinzhou armor backstory, Sigu sect waterfall spars, and LXY/DFS first time; set the evening after Shan Gudao resigned from the Sigu Sect

5+1: FDB and DFS sharing the Lotus Tower guest bed (from FDB’s POV, covering the entire show + post canon)

#mysterious lotus casebook #mlc fic #Li Lianhua #Di Feisheng #Fang Duobing #my fic #ask meme

[clawbehavior]

Hi and happy new year 🌺🌺🌺

For the wip game:

I'm really intrigued to know more about these : 3,8 and 13 (sorry for being greedy 😅)

Please

happy new year anon!

not only do i love that you asked about more than one WIP (i am greedy with you), i loooove these choices because i just updated the work that is #3, so i'm knee deep in it emotionally. it's 'everything everywhere all at once', my money lender au! i have 5-10 drafts going at any time for this story because writing a new chapter helps me simplify the plot. then i have to write that down and cross reference against the clues i already published.

eeaao is very dear to my heart because it was my second foray into fanfic writing after more than a decade and my first multi chapter work. i get a unique thrill from reader engagement with it. finishing it is going to be a life accomplishment for me because of the amount of time i've spent on it (a year) and the very real plans i made in september to discontinue it. we're all good now though, with things finally falling into place for the remaining 1.5 chaps.

i'm posting a snippet from y's take on things which is his version of eeao, made unique by the context he brings to their interactions. i love this scene so much that i actually use it as a treat, telling myself i can publish it only if i finish the main work lmao. so i'm THRILLED you asked about it anon, thank you 🥰🥰

i will reply to the other WIPs in your asks shortly but for now, enjoy the snippet under the break.

after the breakup, yohan has wet dreams like never before. he dreams of gaon. of laying him on the bed with reverant hands and tying him to it so he can't leave. of ravishing him while gaon moans and cries and begs for more. of releasing gaon at the end, only for him to climb into yohan's lap greedy for kisses and with whispered promises that he'll never leave, that he'll stay by yohan's side no matter what. because he loves yohan.

the dreams are incomprehensible without a structured timeline or form. he cooks for gaon and feeds him with his hands in some. he binds gaon's wrists together under the younger man's besotted gaze in another. they drive down an endless road at night, gaon curled into the passenger seat, his forever companion. 

only once does yohan dream something so terrible that he does something unbelievably cruel in real life to offset the feeling and leads a man to believe his family is burning alive in their home to prove a point. and the thing he dreams of is raising a family with gaon. 

he wakes up thrashing, in sweat stippled sheets twisted around his waist and legs. stumbles out of bed and into clothes and away from a home saturated with gaon's presence. for two whole weeks after that, he avoids his house. isaac picks up on this strange energy within the first week, becomes downright meddlesome by the third. yohan rebuffs his well-intentioned efforts and throws himself into his work, into the hunt, the remaining stronghold of his life because it's where gaon cannot be found. 

or so he thinks. he's just wrapped up a successful negotiation that gives him significant editorial oversight over a prominent but heavily indebted news company, and is leaving the VIP section of the club when he sees him. gaon's on the lower floor, sound and strobing lights separating him from yohan. he's sitting on a bar stool, talking to another man. being propositioned, it's obvious. the man has his hands jammed in his pockets but has leaned close, eagerly making a point and staring at gaon with a desire yohan knows well. 

how could he not? gaon looks lovely, even though he's tied up in a suit while everyone around him is in clubbing clothes. he's swirling his drink one handedly and listening with his head cocked to the side, inviting but not reciprocating. 

from his vantage point on the upper floor, yohan catalogues all this in the brief look he allows himself. then he walks straight out of the bar and to his waiting car. he'd let gaon so could live his life. without yohan. ergo, with someone else. 

yohan's many things, but what he's not is unselfaware. so he doesn't bother berating himself in the time it takes to switch his attire for a different kind of hunting outfit, black sweats and a hoodie. 

gaon's place looks the same, yohan notes from where he's hidden by the shadows across the street. it's also dark. 

which doesn't mean anything, he tells himself with a faint tinge of desperation. gaon could've gone bar hopping. but yohan remembers the closed line of his body even as let the man come too close, how gaon's wrists were concealed by two layers when he bared his skin willingly for yohan. 

maybe yohan wasn't as self aware as he told himself.

this line of thought is immediately blown apart when gaon rounds the bend with his friend, cheeks flushed by alcohol and the cold. yohan crushes his cigarette under his sneaker and stares hungrily. gaon catches yoon soohyun when she stumbles -- a show, yohan thinks meanly, given how sturdy her boots are -- and pulls her into an affectionate one-armed hug, tugging her up the stairs and into his apartment. 

soohyun is my oldest and closest friend, yohan recalls as he watches the house. the bedroom light turns on. we're not romantically involved, nor have we ever been. 

platonic, yohan reminds himself. but a platonic friend could fill a sexual need just fine, albeit insufficiently. this is good, he decides. it means gaon's moving on. somewhat. and not with the stranger from the bar.

he's not fooling himself that the thought of gaon pushed up against his kitchen counter by someone else, for someone else to undo his tie inbetween laughing kisses and mess up his carefully styled hair, tug his shirt out of his trousers filled yohan with sick violence. it was the sex, but it was more than that. it was knowing how unselfconscious and uninhibited gaon was during sex. the experience opened him up in such a way that a part of him sunk into his surroundings, including the body of his lover. yohan felt it every time he left gaon, that gaon had deposited a piece of himself in yohan's hands, permanently changing them both in the process.

the lights in the bedroom go out. 

yohan swallows. 

a moment later, the living room lights turn on, a lithe frame passing near the windows before everything goes dark again. it means he hasn't moved on yet, yohan thinks, drawing his armor around himself again. but the hurt comes from deep within, a feeling breaking him apart like a tree root piercing concrete. 

yohan should've pushed him away earlier. before he got attached. he slinks into the alley and heads home, feeling worse than better.

and then one day, just as chaotically as gaon walked out of yohan's life, he walks back in.

#the devil judge #my fic ideas #am writing #anon asks #ask games

[merge-conflict]

18, 74, 26 for the fic writer asks! 🖤

Questions here

18. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

Yes. Yes. Yes.

I usually retitle a fic or chapter at least once. I used to sit and agonize over the coolest title and just could NOT move on until I've done it, but now I just relax because I know I can update it. Generally what it's named in my Scrivener project is just some sort of placeholder or feeling. My usual vibe is "lyrics from a song which vibes" (yes. it is often the mountain goats... but not always! sometimes it's brown bird.) or "common phrase, but changed slightly" or "technical in-joke". Whatever I find most amusing.

Recently posted a fic called "done dying" which was originally titled "anthem for the already defeated" both of them from song titles (the first is actually "When I Was Done Dying"). I wrote all of the "the binds that tie" (playing with "the ties that bind") before settling on the title, but in my drafts it was always 'sudo chown -R vim:vim .' (now the chapter title). I like to have my cake and eat it too whenever possible. For stuff I can't come up with names for I've started titling them 'scrap: brief summary' or something I think is grandiose or funny so I can stop obsessing over it and start writing lol.

74. You’ve posted a fic anonymously. How would someone be able to guess that you’d written it?

Gosh. I've been thinking about this lately, and I do think I have a distinctive style but it's hard to describe because it's just.. the way I write? I know I have a problem repeating adjectives like 'just' 'some' 'only' a lot, so that's one give away. My habit of just smash-cutting into the middle of a scene without much setup is probably another. My habit of using repetitive sentence construction to hammer in a point. My habit of writing too much damn banter.

26. Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

Tbh the damn things overlap was created to be each damn thing overlapping the next, a huge mess, very little time to breathe (condensing the canon timeline down to about two weeks of Valentine going through main storyline stuff. ~a week of which is actually in the the fic!) I wanted to write a story where you feel relieved when characters get to sit down or take a nap, and I think I've succeeded thus far.

Honorable mention to when her edges soften, where Johnny and Valentine hit the town and each other. Straight from "I'm not gonna fuck you" to competitively tracking the number of orgasms they've both had in the past 3 hours while fucking in alleyways and cars. That might qualify as a sort of wild ride. :3

#ty for the questions!! :3 #I do wish someone could explain back to me what my style IS sometimes cos like #yeah I do stuff on purpose. I know I'm doing it #but also it's just Writing to me and it's hard to articulate what specifically I'm doing #because to me it's mostly like yeah. I recognize this because it's the story I had in my head and I wrote it! #ask game

[vinceaddams]

top five clothing items you wish you'd wear more often, please! and the five you do wear the most, please!

Oh heck! I still have asks from that ask meme thingy I reblogged 2 weeks ago, sorry for taking so long!

Hmm, tough to choose specific things I wish I wore more often. I do have a bunch of fancy 18th century things that sit in my closet most of the time, but usually when I leave the house I'm either going to work or to the grocery store, and I don't feel like being super fancy for that. Cuff ruffles would get in the way of all the hand washing and such, and breeches would be annoying at work because I use machines with knee levers.

I guess I wish I wore my nice shoes a bit more often than just for photos, but they were expensive and I don't want to wear out the leather soles. Maybe I ought to get little rubber soles added.

Oh, and my embroidered monster waistcoat! I wish I wore that more, but it's from an older pattern that doesn't fit me very well. The embroidery is also a bit worn out in places, alas.

It's a bit difficult to know which things I wear most frequently, but here are my best guesses for right now. (My summer answers would of course be different.)

1. This brown wool waistcoat from early 2019. I wear it all the time in the cold half of the year.

Just like the monster waistcoat, it's made from a pattern I drafted before top surgery, so it really doesn't fit me anymore. It's also getting pretty shabby. I've been meaning to make some new everyday plain wool waistcoats for a while now.

(I wear that green shirt pretty often too.)

2. This cap. It's just two pieces of linen, and I made it in 2018. I like wearing caps indoors when it's cold, and also under my wool hat outdoors. It adds an extra layer of warmth, is softer than the wool hat, and protects it from my very oily scalp.

I have 3 of these caps, but this one is my favourite. It's also something I ought to make more of.

3. These pants. They're just plain black cotton fall front pants.

I could pretend I'm wearing them the most because they're fully lined and therefore warmer than my other pairs, but the fact is I've got 3 other pairs of pants with holes worn in them that I need to patch and have been avoiding for a shamefully long time. It's a pretty easy thing to fix, and I will likely put it off for several more weeks, if not more.

I feel the need to point out that not all of my wardrobe is in such a miserable state, I at least have a good amount of shirts!

4. I don't think I have any pictures of it, but my winter coat is just a plain medium grey modern (by which I mean at least a couple decades old) wool one. Here's an image I found on google of approximately the same coat.

It was my grandfather's, and is a bit too big for me, and the lining is getting pretty worn out. Someday I want to completely pick it apart, recut it, and re-sew it with a new lining, but I can't do that until I have a backup winter coat.

5. This poor flannel nightgown which has finally worn out! Just a few days ago it developed a huge hole in the back panel, and a small one by the button placket, so it's destined to be cleaning rags and/or firestarters.

The buttons might end up on another nightgown though. So I guess this is no longer a thing I can wear frequently :( In the linked post I actually made 3 nightgowns from the same pattern, and that was the medium weight one, so now I'm down to the very heavy fish print flannel one and the light rayon one, and need to make more. (A very common theme with my wardrobe things, alas. I am slow.)

But I did just finish a new nightgown this week, made from a completely different pattern that I'm quite excited about! I'll get some pictures soon!

#ask #ask meme #me #clothing

[world-of-fire-and-flight]

The Lair in the Woods: Part 4

A/N: Taking a little break from book 3 this weekend to do some crafting and such 😊 I meant to post this last week, but I never finished it though I did finish draft one of book 3 and am “working” on editing it now!

Warnings: feelings of fear and anxiety, near panic, medical scenario (past hypothermia-esque scenario, nearly freezing to death), references to stalking/being stalked, swearing, maybe slight manipulation but it’s not intended!

My Masterlist | Taglist Info | The Lair in the Woods series masterlist

Civilian dozed on and off uneasily, woken by the most innocuous of sounds from the heater kicking in to the creak of the old logs. Every so often, Supervillain would creep into the room and put another log or two on the fire. They’d stoke it, staring into the flames for a moment, before disappearing back the way they’d come. They didn’t look at Civilian when they came, and Civilian wondered if they were pointedly ignoring them or if they were even aware that Civilian was watching them.

It wasn’t until the first sign of the pale dawn light had come streaming through the high windows positioned near the ceiling that Civilian’s ear pricked again. Their eyes burst open with alarm. Heart pounding against their chest, Civilian kept completely still, listening as soft footfalls came closer and closer with each creak of the floor.

A shadow appeared behind the chair their savior had once occupied. Still, the figure came closer, holding a medium-sized duffle bag. Civilian’s breaths stuttered for only a moment before it began to tear in and out of their lungs.

“Whoa,” the person said quietly. “It’s okay, I’m just here to check on you. There’s no need to be frightened. I’m [Medic’s fake name]. I guess [Supervillain Alias] didn’t mention I’d be checking in on you?”

Civilian eyed them skeptically. “They did.”

Taking a slow step toward them, Medic asked, “May I?”

They pointed to the spot beside their bed of furs and blankets, but Civilian just kept staring back at them. Supervillain had said that Medic would be coming but…what if this was a part of their plan? What if more than one person had been sending them those letters? What if…what if it was a pair of stalkers and not just one?

“Is it all right if I examine you?” Medic stared curiously at them, holding their bag aloft as if it explained what they were going to do.

“N-no,” Civilian stammered, shifting as far away as they could on the bed without falling off.

“Oh, uh,” Medi scratched their head. “Okay then. Could…could you tell me how you’re feeling then? Better, worse, the same? Are you in any pain?”

Civilian continued to watch them warily, not providing any answers. Medic bounced on their heels, staring at them expectantly.

Finally, Civilian found their voice. “Why am I here? What do you want from me?”

“Maybe you do have some head trauma,” Medic muttered to themselves. They raised their brow, tilting their head. “Did Supervillain not tell you what happened?”

“I don’t believe them.”

“Oh…kay,” Medic said, taking a step back. “I’ll just…come back—Ah, Supervillain!”

“Leave them be, Medic,” Supervillain said, strolling past them both and into the kitchen. “Civilian’s terrified of something…or someone.”

Medic glanced back at them and then followed after Supervillain, leaving Civilian alone in the sitting room. Civilian craned their neck to try and watch them over the top of the couch their bed had been built against, but to little effect. They were half tempted to follow after both of them, but maybe now was the perfect time to try their escape. As the whir of a coffee maker greeted their ears, overpowering the low muttering of the pair arguing animatedly over something, Civilian’s eyes darted to the hallway Supervillain had emerged from.

Their lips pressed into a determined line. Furrowing their brows in concentration, Civilian took one last glance into the kitchen, making certain the pair was too occupied to be watching them. Taking a breath, they gathered their courage.

This was their chance. And they certainly weren’t about to let it slip through their fingertips.

*

“I don’t know!” Supervillain hissed, “It’s not like I came out and told them who I am or what we really do here!”

“Well they’re more than terrified! They’re nervous system is shot, and not from their near-death experience!”

“Don’t take that tone with me, Medic,” they whispered dangerously. “I’m not an idiot, I think I know when someone’s truly terrified. I don’t need you to tell me.”

“Hey, I’m just stating a fact,” Medic clarified, gesturing toward the living room. “They’re about three seconds away from a pa—”

“Wait,” Supervillain stood on their toes, craning their neck to peer into the living room. “Where’s Civilian?”

Medic followed their gaze. They audibly swallowed. “Shit.”

“Call Right Hand. Now.”

“On it. I’ll check the corridor,” Medic said, already walking away from the kitchen and pulling their jacket back on.

Supervillain stalked slowly from the kitchen, surveying the sitting room. Civilian was true and wholly gone, as if they hadn’t been there in the first place. Their lips pursed.

Why would they leave? Why risk their health, their life, just to flee and head right back into the very blizzard that’d nearly killed them in the first place? What had them so scared?

Supervillain shook their head. They’d just have to ask when they found them—if they found them again. If they’d already made it outside through the patio doors, Supervillain was hard pressed to follow them out into the harsh snow and fierce mountain gale.

But if they didn’t…It might draw unwanted attention to their base and operations here and Supervillain most certainly didn’t want that.

Cursing under their breath, Supervillain carried on into the hallway. They edged passed closed doors—storage closet, hall bath—silently pushing each one open and peeking inside only to find them as cold and empty as the sitting room. They weakly attempted to ease the glower from their features, but the more they thought of Civilian’s escape attempt, the more agitated they felt.

They should’ve just braved the storm and broken into one of the vacation homes scattered throughout the mountaintop. What were they thinking, letting Right Hand and Medic talk them into allowing Civilian to recover here?

“Not that they’d given me the chance to protest,” Supervillain mumbled, pulling the laundry room door shut behind them.

The only room left now was theirs, and with it, the patio doors leading straight out into a freezing hellscape of snow and sleet and wind.

Slowly creeping down the hall so as not to disturb the floorboards, Supervillain prowled closer and closer to the open door at the end of the hall. The light they’d left on made a small triangle on the hallway floor, but otherwise, everything seemed undisturbed. This was the only place Civilian could be—if they hadn’t made it outside yet.

Taking a silent breath, Supervillain pressed themselves against the wall beside the door. They hadn’t the slightest idea what they were going to do if they found Civilian inside. Something had spooked them, but without knowing what, Supervillain didn’t know how to approach them. It’s not like they could keep them here against their will—Supervillain grimaced.

They could keep them here against their will, but if they did, they risked exposing themselves as the master criminal plaguing the country. Or at least, that would be the risk if Civilian hadn’t already realized who they were, and that was the big problem. Supervillain didn’t know if Civilian knew who they were really were and if that was why they were scared, or if it was something else entirely.

But what?

Civilian Surname was ordinary…unless…

Supervillain’s jaw twitched. It wasn’t unheard of in the caped community, for someone without super-human powers to don a mask and call themselves either a hero or a villain. Maybe that’s why Civilian was so scared: they had a secret identity that they couldn’t risk being exposed.

Supervillain smiled. That certainly made sense given all the facts. Their patrol had found a little hero, for Civilian certainly couldn’t be a villain with their record—or lack thereof.

Shaking their head, Supervillain finally found the courage to peek inside their bedroom.

Civilian didn’t see them, struggling to get the tricky patio door open. Supervillain watched them silently for a moment, stepping into the doorway and leaning against it. After a moment of watching Civilian fiddle with the lock some more, they cleared their throat.

Civilian gasped, jumping at least a foot in the air. Whirling around, Civilian looked like a cornered rabbit, nearly pressing themselves against the frigid glass doors. Supervillain bit back a smile, imagining that they could really see Civilian’s heart beating out of their chest as their mouth opened and closed a few times. Stammering they said, “S-sta-ay a-away f-from me!”

Supervillain held their hands up in a placating gesture. “If you want to leave so badly, you should at least steal a coat and some boots too.”

Civilian’s brow furrowed. “W-what?”

Sighing, Supervillain took a slow step inside the bedroom, pointing vaguely to the bed as they continued on under the ever-fearful gaze of Civilian. Pulling the top blanket from their bed, Supervillain said, “I don’t know why you’re so scared, or why you want to leave in the middle of a blizzard, but if that’s what you want, then go ahead. I’m not gonna stop you, though I can’t promise Medic won’t try.”

They held the soft sherpa blanket out, wiggling it slightly in offering. Civilian stared at them, cradling their arms to their chest. Supervillain wasn’t sure if they were trembling from the cold or from their fear, though they supposed it was possible that it was the result of both.

Slowly, Civilian took the blanket from them and wrapped it around themselves. Weakly glaring at them, Civilian’s shaky voice was hardly more than a whisper. “Why have you been stalking me?”

The Lair in the Woods: @just-a-space-rabbit, @classicplesiosaur, @pigeonwhumps, @kaiwewi

Part 5

#writeblr #heroes and villains #supervillain x civilian #my writing #hero x villain community #The Lair in the Woods #The Lair in the Woods series

[trickster-shi]

WIP Updates

Been a while since I did one of these, and I should honestly be trying to sleep so this damn sore throat/respiratory crap goes away, but I just can't breathe when I lay down >_< however, I'm feeling a bit better than a couple days ago so I'll do this update and see if I can concentrate long enough to get some words in on at least one of these projects.

Project Zander:

I finished chapter five last night and sent it off to the beta readers. That one took a while to really come together to my satisfaction, especially the past scene. I had over 10k words on this chapter at one point before figuring out what it needed and cutting it down to 6500.

I am now working on outlining the next five chapters before I dive into chapter six.

Untitled Original Project:

I decided to scavenge some parts from Teenage Vigilante Witch and build an original story out of it. So far I like what I've got, which is about 4k words and needs a lot of outlining. Still keeping the found family aspect, but I'm doing a lot of world building and outlining to ensure it's a very different story from Teenage Viginate Witch. Looking back on it now, there was a lot of stuff I wish I'd explored in that first story, but it was written very fast and thrown up on archive to prove to myself that I could still write. I never intend to go back and edit or rewrite any of it, so I'm going to take the potential it had and put it into another story and take it a couple jogs to the left. Mostly, I'm going to be exploring that guilty/vigilante mindset with a spell amnesia twist that slowly pulls back to reveal a truth better left forgotten with a different take on found family. Still working out a lot of the details but I'm excited for it.

Home Across the Universe #10:

It's a little over 3k at the moment but I have notes and scenes in my email that I need to get and stitch together in the draft, so it's likely closer to 5k. Also, I already have the ending outlined and I'm excited to get to that since it's a cliffhanger I'm gonna get yelled at over. Looking forward to that. I may poke at this one today and see if I can get some more written on it.

Rabbit Come Home part 4:

Also a little over 3k written, I'm still outlining the scenes to make sure I include everything I need to so it's a satisfying ending. I'm shooting for this to be the end of the series and there are a lot of threads to tie off.

Into the Black, Episode 3:

Also sitting at 3k, this has a couple of chunk sitting in my email I need to stitch in as well. I haven't worked on it in a couple weeks and need to sit down and outline my scenes to figure out where it needs to go. I have a vague idea but not enough to work on, especially today with my mind being fried from sickness.

Untitled Sequel to the supposed Jurassic World/Teen Wolf Oneshot:

I told myself it was a one shot and I believed it for a while, but a plot bunny bit me after a recent rewatch of Fallen Kingdom and I now have...5,515 words of a sequel. It goes a bit AU from Fallen Kingdom because I had high hopes for the promises that movie set up for Dominion that Dominion just did not deliver for me. I'm still let down about that, apparently. I'm aiming to keep the story small in scale, but it was fun pitting Stiles against dinosaurs the first time and this sequel has him showcasing some more of his smarts while injured and a little delirious from pain meds, so it should be entertaining.

Aaand, that's all I've been working on lately. Hoping to get the next Home Across the Universe oneshot finished and posted first, though I'm not making any promises or predictions on when that will be. Hopefully I can scrape together enough brain cells to work on it today and get it closer to the end scene.

#shi speaks #teen wolf #fic updats #original works #project zander

[ouchiis]

𝐇𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒....... 2 !

your boy is back at it again with yet another hiatus. this time, it'll be longer with, once more, no definitive end. no particular life event provoked it this time; the stress and pressures of this site have personally dissuaded me from coming on her for about two weeks, and i figured i wanted to make a post about it rather than just leave you guys in the dark. for those who still want to contact me, my disc.rd, oujis, is available. a little bit more of an explanation is under the cut, but it's more so about my complaints about the rpc as of whole and my experiences with it as of late. thank you so much for your patients, and i hope you all keep well. ♡

i think it goes without saying that i've been a lot less active on tumblr. writing motivation hasn't hit me and that's on my end. i've had the free-time to write, but not a lot of energy. i'm not sure exactly what's gotten into me considering i'm on break and i should have more time than ever, but somehow, it's only made my urge to write worse. the truth is the rpc as of late has been giving me immense amounts of anxiety. i reach out often to people to plot or write, but i very seldom get anything in return and it's heavily demoralising on my part when i've spent time coming up with dynamics or possible scenarios only to be brushed off. truth be told, i'm tired of sending in asks or liking starter calls or trying to plot with people only to get ignored. seeing blogs complain about not getting any plots when i've dm'd them and gotten no response definitely weighs on my conscious and gives the impression that others view me as a follower and not as a blog they want to genuinely write with. i like to believe i offer a lot of opportunities to discuss things between muses, though this may just be my perception and not the actual reality. the silent pressures and judgements i've received from muns - not having pretty enough graphics, being "a little much," etc - have also weighed down on me a lot to the point where i'd rather just be silent than risk fucking up socially. this no longer feels like a hobby to me, and while it's blunt, it now feels like a toll to sit myself down and write because of these little things. blocking people to clear out my followers seemed fruitless as well, so for now, it's best to just take a break and allow myself to wind down from all of this. thank you for those who truly did try to interact with me. i apologise on my behalf for being distant in dms or not being able to respond to things right away when i've got shit in my drafts that have been aging for 3-4 months. and before you worry, i doubt i'll be quitting tumblr, and this blog isn't getting archived. just consider this as a time for me to regain back some confidence and take a break from all the stress this site gives me. thank you all for the time here, genuinely. i hope you all make sure to keep yourself safe.

#❛⠀₊˚ ☾ ?⠀ tarot de marseilles ( ooc ) ⠀❜ ⠀ꜜ ⠀. #❛⠀₊˚ ☾ ?⠀ force ( psa ) ⠀❜ ⠀ꜜ ⠀.