#making up problems where there are none to paint this boy in a bad light is a Lot.

[minecraftbookshelf]

Three of ???

The third session installment of None Can Escape the Hourglss Keeper.

On AO3

Crooked towers, frogs with noses, and llama piñatas

-

The Clockers

Cleo doesn't bother to wipe their smeared-blood war paint off of her face before she goes to bed. She'll still want it in the morning, there is no point.

Her newly yellow timer is frozen on the back of their hand, glowing faintly in the dim torch-light of the Entertainment Rock Bunker. Even now, with the enforced break in place they can feel the low electric buzz of the desire to kill in their veins.

Arson and murder do go hand in hand after all.

She'll have to be more deliberate tomorrow about keeping Scar pointed at everyone else and away from herself though. (He can take Bdubs out as collateral damage if need be though. They'll allow that.)

The sheer chaotic potential of both Scar and Bdubs is almost worth being called "Mom". At least Etho has been trapped into it too. 

Both Pearl and BigB are yellow too now so they aren't killable currently, but they do have a very lovely tower with some very flammable decorations right next door. Perfect for the to-do list.

-

T.I.E.S.

Ultimately, not killing any of his teammates (on purpose) was a good call. Especially the way both Tango and Skizz helped him get the kill in the end. Worth the stress, Impulse decides. The lack of sore feelings in the team will serve him well for at least a few more days.

They'd hauled their beds up onto the tower, electing to leave the rest of their belongings in the bunker for the night and he can hear both Tango and Skizz snoring fit to wake the dead, as well as see Etho where he's leaned up against one of the outer walls, nearly a shadow disappearing into the stone.

If he stays for the night he won't sleep until all the rest of them are, Impulse knows. And he'll be the first awake in the morning.

Hopefully that can be used against him eventually. Less rest than the rest of them could add up.

For now, Impulse rolls over and lets the draining adrenaline from the boogey curse wash over him, lulling him off to sleep. They're still allies and so for now, Etho also needs to sleep.

-

The Bread Bad Boys

He is only ever supposed to watch.

Grian has never been particularly good at falling rules. In any form or under any name.

Only ever supposed to watch.

That doesn't mean he is always immune to the consequences of breaking them.

Every now and then, if ignored for long enough, the rules will enforce themselves.

Usually it happens on either his own private server or on Hermitcraft, where he can barricade himself in the depths of his base and ride it out.

The timing is rather unfortunate.

He feels it coming in enough time to warn Joel and Tim. He clings to physical consciousness long enough to communicate his lack of curse and then.

Grian falls.

Only ever supposed to watch.

The Canary knows. The Watcher can tell. Underneath the worry and high-pitched scolding directed at everyone who approaches are sideways glances and a tense understanding. Not complete understanding. But enough. Enough to know that The Watcher is both more and less present than it appears.

The Player does not know. It's efforts to guard The Watcher's shell are quite entertaining though. All it's pretenses falling aside beneath a fierce desire to protect and safeguard. Both the Watcher and The Canary. That might be a problem eventually, but for now The Watcher will wait and see how it plays out.

It makes for a good show.

-

The Mean Gills

Scott takes the time to sweep the detritus of Skizz's failed TNT drops off the roof, loose paper and sand and creeper dust sprinkled over the planks.

He'll have to take some more security measures in the morning. He doesn't enjoy that Pearl had not only looked at the door and seen and recognized the Threshold there, and had proceeded to walk right past it, making sure he saw when she didn't even use the door.

It's not the first time she's invaded his space like that. Last time he'd chalked it up to the soulmate bond. Clearly something else is at work there. 

It's not like the Threshold would actually stop anyone. Not in these Games. But they should at least give pause. Some sign of discomfort. Not brushed aside like so many hanging vines.

And sometimes that moment of hesitation is all he'd need to escape or strike first.

And he doesn't fully trust Pearl's promise to kill him last (not that he'd make it easy for her). 

He tucks the broom away in the storage space and throws himself onto his bed. Pearl is a problem for tomorrow. And he's sure she'll remind him of it. For now, it is time to rest.

-

The Nosy Neighbors

Pearl likes the frogs.

Mostly because of the various reactions they've garnered from everyone else, but also because the frogs themselves are very cute. Even if the noses are a bit unsettling.

They'll help distract from the trap floor too. Misdirection is key to traps and the general aesthetic of the tower will help with that a lot. Benefits of being just a little bit crazy.

Not everyone will underestimate her though. Scott and Cleo both will be unlikely to fall for it. She'd be better off trying to get someone else. Even if she does want to kill Scott. Just a little bit.

He killed her last time, it's only fair. It's how they show affection at this point.

Grian will be back in the morning and Pearl will be down another hour, the glitch around her being boogey-killed resolved. A kill won't get her back to green but it will at the very least take some of the opposition down a bit. And if she knows anything about these games its that sometimes they are decided by a half a heart. (Or a matter of seconds.)

She's lulled to sleep by visions of murder dancing in her head and Froggy purring on her chest.

[jokeson-u]

No offense and I don't mean any disrespect to you, but I'm sorry. Your sister is a straight vile and disgusting piece of shit and fucking cunt to be defending Ryan Murphy's portrayal of the Menéndez brothers, and suggest that the real life brothers are lying about being abused. She's part of the problem and the reason why abuse victims don't speak up. And then as you said, she has the nerve to claim she's woke and all that? If she's the type that accuses victims of lying, then I don't put it past her to also be the type to say that victims "ask for it" and deserve it, because they don't fit "the perfect victim" standard. Seriously, FUCK HER! In fact, you can show her this message for me and tell her I said so, so she knows just what a shit person she really is. I don't even know her, but this is enough to make say I hate her. Anyone that accuses abuse victims of lying or agrees with them being painted in a bad light in media gets no compassion or grace from me.

NO DISRESPECT TAKEN AT ALL LMFAOOOOOO heres the thing. its not that she doesnt believe them NOW. its that shes so incredibly ignorant that, before watching the show, she somehow thought it wasnt public knowledge that they were victims. she thinks her bank of knowledge is the same as everyones. so shes acting as though ryan murphy 'showing they were abused' is some revolutionary act of justice. simply because she somehow never knew more about the case than 'crazy rich kids kill parents.' shes basically praising ryan for 'shining light' on their case..?? despite the actual facts already being out there?

so theres that ignorance. but then theres the part that really bugs me: her selective activism. bc my sister really does care about 'woke' things, but she'll look the other way if its someone she likes. or go out of her way to defend them. she likes ryan murphy, therefore any project he does shes gonna defend with 'well ryan murphy does things for controversy/shock!' I DONT GIVE A FUCK. he can easily do that by creating his OWN stories and not making a mockery of a real life tragedy. but she doesnt care! bc its ryan murphy and 'thats what he does.' SO WHY DOES HE DO IT??? like thats my issue. she gives half assed reasons like that without realizing that 'reason' is an issue too.

but her defense didnt end there! bc for some reason she realllly wanted to justify it so she spun this whole thing about what she 'thinks' ryan murphy is doing, which is this: "the first 4 episodes were super sensationalized and fictitious to represent how the press was depicting the boys and the case. and then on episode 5, things get serious and thats ryan bringing out 'out of the press' and 'into reality.'" .....what??? HUH? if that was what he was doing it would BE CLEAR. NOT SOME THEORY YOU WHIPPED UP AND ARE CLAIMING TO BE TRUE AS A DEFENSE OF HIS SHIT WRITING.

but basically. she does believe the boys were abused, but she believes what was in the ryan murphy show. AND she thinks this is all NEW knowledge that ryan is groundbreakingly showcasing. bc shes incredibly fucking ignorant. what she implied possibly NOT believing was eriks statement, as if he did it for publicity or smthn because 'he met with the actor the next day.' like how tf do those 2 things correlate?

anyways. my sister isnt one of those 'u were asking for it' people and she is knowledgeable about the concept of a perfect victim and why thats problematic. BUT, as i said, its selective in all aspects based on her knowledge. in this case, she had none, assumed no one did, and is taking ryans word for it (and spinning the non factual parts of the show it to make it look better in ryans defense.)

also there was a point where i said ryan shouldve named it 'monsters' and then the parents names instead, and she was like 'well that wasnt the name of the case' BITCH HES NOT MAKING A SHOW ABOUT THE CASE HES MAKING FANFICTION OF IT

[neoculturetravesty]

The force between us

Pairing: Jaemin x Reader Genre: romance, fluff, angst, fantasy, hurt/comfort Warnings: mature, strong language, descriptions of loneliness, bullying, suggestions of dream-reality confusion, penetrative sex, first time sex, fingering, oral (male and female receiving). Word Count: 27k 

Summary: You’re pretty sure you’ve lost your damn mind when the Na Jaemin from your screen keeps mysteriously teleporting to you. There’s only one problem: neither of you can control when he teleports to you or how long he can stay.

A/N: This darn fic was taking so long that I almost made it into a series (but nope, that wasn’t going to happen if I could help it).

 Also, you guys were way to good at guessing that my next work would be a Jaemin fic haha. Hope you like it!

1.

The first time he had appeared to you had been the most unusual of them all.

You had been laying in your bed, wallowing in your loneliness. You had known that what you were feeling was a low. Nothing was actually, terribly, truly bad. It was just one of those days where everything just had a big old dark cloud over it, and all your thoughts were murky over the languishing state of affairs of your life, and nothing you could’ve thought or no amount of distraction would’ve made anything better.

Because even when you’d chosen your favorite distraction (a K-pop video binge), your mind didn’t stop being a bummer (you kept projecting your feelings and emotions onto the boys you saw on screen). 

All you knew was that this feeling in your chest was frustrating. Like it was choking you from within, but you didn’t know why. Your tears wouldn’t come and dry crying didn’t help. You couldn’t even pinpoint exactly what was making you feel so down and so lonely and so miserable.

Maybe it was the fact that your group of friends had played a stupid game earlier where they would secretly tally a score against any time a boy would approach them or ‘check them out,’ whatever that meant; and none of them had noticed that you hadn’t even gotten a single point all evening.

Maybe it was the fact that you had stayed up all night trying to finish your readings, but the professor had called on every single person in the lecture hall for class participation except for you.

Maybe it was the fact that you had sat in the cafeteria in a huge group with your classmates and had gotten interrupted twelve times before you finally gave up on talking (yes, you had kept score, because this was the only game you were winning).

So, to take your mind off of every little thing that made you this way, you had put on an NCT video (NCT 24hr Relay Cam) and projected everything on your mind onto one assuming boy (Na Jaemin).

You looked at him and all you could think about was how far removed he was from the rest of the group. He sat in a corner, quiet, aloof, and alone in a crowded room. He didn’t speak, he wasn’t a part of all the jokes and games the rest of the members played, and the act of kindness he offered to another member went entirely unnoticed. 

And as you watched, you started to wonder if he felt the same things that you had felt today. Did he feel invisible, too? Did he also feel like he was fading into the background? Did he, like you, think that he shouldn’t speak up because the words he would say will bring no value to anyone?

You had no idea how it had happened, but whilst you were deep in your miserable thoughts and painting them all over Na Jaemin on the screen, it was as if some majestic and profound being had had enough of your misery and decided to break a barrier between you (in front of the screen) and him (behind the screen). Like it’s invisible, powerful hands had split open the gates between reality and fantasy, truth and falsehood, analog and digital, thoughts and action. Because there had been a flash of the brightest light that had blinded you and the loudest soundless sound that had deafened you and when you had the ability to see and hear again, the Na Jaemin from the screen had appeared in your room, right there, in front of you.

For several moments, neither of you had said anything; not a word, not a breath, nothing but dazed, confused and suspicious looks. For many minutes, you hadn’t been sure if you were awake or if all of this was a fever dream. For a good while, you were convinced that you had finally lost your mind, because you were fantasizing that a K-pop boy was in your room, except the fantasy was so well-built that you could almost touch it.

Almost, because this K-pop boy had spoken and asked you one short question,

“Who are you?” to which you had replied in a one, short answer, 

“I’m Y/N,” before he had made a run for it.

The poor boy had run and run, closing all the doors behind him, but no matter how much he ran, he kept reappearing right beside you. Like the two of you were caught in an infinity loop, where you could try and get away but no matter how far you’d run, you’d rabbit hole your way back to the start.

You had played this strange game of infinity chase for a good hour before you had realized that there had to be a better way to undo this, whatever this was. Because if teleportation existed and magic was real and things out of the natural actually happened; Na Jaemin had appeared right next to you right when you’d been at your loneliest and yearning for a friend. You had dared not tell him that, lest he think that you were some sort of a crazy witch that had summoned him away from his home and his friends and into her gingerbread house to fatten and to eat. You were lonely, but you’re not sure your loneliness had that kind of power. You didn’t know how this had happened.

So the two of you had sat in your room (what else were you going to do when you kept appearing next to one another, anyway?) and tried to figure out exactly how and where this had happened. You both found yourself talking in circles, because how could either of you explain what this was? He had come out of the screen, or at least you thought he had. But it’s not like he could climb back into the screen, back into his world.

Then, you had shown him the video you’d been watching when this had happened, only to find that it had been taken down. It was bizarre and unexplainable and because nothing in that moment had made sense, you had offered Na Jaemin a cup of tea, for what else does one do when strange and mysterious things happen to you.

“I’m a coffee person,” he had quipped.

“I know,” you had replied.

“So, are you a fan?” he had asked inquisitively, as you sat in your kitchen, mugs in hand.

“I…” you had turned around to look at him to reply, but while his mug was still steaming hot on the countertop, the boy in question was nowhere to be seen. 

You had looked about your house and your street and found him nowhere and you had even stayed up in your bed in case he appeared again. And later, right before you wanted to sleep off the horrible, fascinating, exhausting day that you had had, you found that the mysterious video had been reuploaded on the NCT channel. 

2.

The second time he had appeared to you was less eventful. There hadn’t been a bright light or static sound, or anything to disorient you. 

That didn’t mean that you didn’t nearly jump out of your skin when you turned around on the bench and saw Na Jaemin sitting right next to you. Clad in a plain white t-shirt, grey joggers and with his dark hair down, he looked like he had just rolled out of bed (he probably had) and you had unknowingly summoned him from the cozy darkness of his room into the bright sunniness of your college campus (you definitely had).

“You again,” he had accused while you had just watched him open mouthed, the assignment you were doing for your classmate entirely forgotten on your laptop screen.

“Were you watching my videos again?” he asked suspiciously.

You vigorously shook your head and showed him everything on your screen, which had everything to do with the assignment and nothing to do with NCT or Na Jaemin or K-pop or anything that would make an Idol teleport to you. You hadn’t even questioned what had happened to you the last time. You had just pushed it all the way into the back drawer of your brain and locked it.

Although, curiosity had led you to Reddit one day, where you found yourself reading up on people’s experiences with mysterious teleportations. But it had spooked you out so much that you had just closed all tabs on your browser and went out for fresh air to distract yourself. Watching K-pop videos had summoned a wholeass K-pop idol in your room. You didn’t know what reading spooky stories was going to summon. You were fine without that shit in your life, thank you very much.

You had even chickened out of posting about your own experience on Reddit because somehow typing it out was making it sound more and more unreal and making you sound more and more delusional. Who the fuck was going to believe you if you said that Na Jaemin from NCT had teleported out of your computer screen and into your room? Every bit of that story had delusional fangirl written all over it, and that was something you were absolutely not. But the more you’d deny it, the crazier you’d seem, so you had just kept it to yourself and swallowed it as a story you would sometimes think about before going to bed.

“Interesting choice of clothes,” you found yourself sniggering, because making jokes in unusual circumstances was always the way to go. Jaemin looked down as if suddenly noticing what he’d been wearing. He looked ahead, eyes unfocused as if in deep thought and asked, 

“Mind if I check something?” as he gestured his hands towards your laptop.

“Be my guest,” you replied, handing him the device.

He typed in the words he wanted in the search bar and made a face that told you that he had just gotten the confirmation on some sort of theory in his head.

“Another one of my videos has been taken down,” he told you.

“Which one is it this time?” you asked curiously.

“It’s my Relay Cam,” he turned the screen to show you. And sure enough, while the link was there for JAEMIN : 11AM-12PM, the offensive video take-down message was all you could see.

“Maybe you should ask your company to stop fucking with your videos,” you had muttered, because somehow, you felt like the trial-less defendant in this court for two. So you had returned to doing the assignment for your friend.

Jaemin had respectfully let you be for some time, sitting in silence. But what else is there to do when you’ve randomly travelled in space or time (he didn’t know) with no phone, no friend and nothing to do for who knows how long (neither of you knew), and the bright sun was anything but your style? So he talked to you.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“An assignment,” you replied.

“What kind of assignment?” he asked again.

“Just helping my friend write his essay,” you replied, not averting your eyes from your work.

“How are you helping him when he’s not even with you?” he asked, and something about the way he had phrased the question had made you pause and think.

“I don’t know. Just. He asked for help so I’m helping him,” you replied, a little annoyed because you were feeling a little bit called out.

“Sounds like he just asked you to do his homework for him and you agreed,” he did indeed call you out, not mincing his words even a little bit.

“I’m just trying to make a friend, okay? I’m trying to be a nice person,” you defended yourself.

“You can make a friend without being their lackey,” he raised his eyebrows, but you didn’t like what he said. You didn’t like it one bit. You didn’t like how vicious it was or how honest it was.

“I’m not anyone’s lackey. What do you know about me, anyway?” you snapped at him and got up with your things and walked away.

Of course, you had forgotten that you couldn’t walk away from Na Jaemin. He’d just appear right next to you. Thankfully, he had the decency to remain quiet this time, and a lot less nosy. He was good at being quiet. That much you had gathered from all the time you had spent watching his videos (before they took on this weird magic shit and you stopped).

But Na Jaemin had been right, as you had known he would be as soon as he had spoken the words. Because this classmate didn’t want to be your friend. He just wanted to use your hopeful crush on him to make him do ‘his homework’ while in return he offered you a “You’re the best,” and a thumbs up before he walked away with his friends to a party he didn’t even have the decency to invite you to.

It was awful getting your heart broken in front of someone, but what could you do when that particular someone couldn’t leave your side because of whatever awful, mysterious, supernatural gravity that kept you together. Jaemin didn’t say ‘I told you so’ but he figured that one of your other intrusive classmates was making their way to you to tell you that in his stead. So, he put an arm around your shoulder and said, 

“Ready to go home, babe?”

You just turned to look at him wordlessly, because his kindness only made you feel even more pathetic. Because what was worse than being rejected by the boy you liked? A K-pop idol stepping into be your pretend boyfriend to save your face.

If you had sniffled on your walk home, Jaemin hadn’t said a word. But something had told you both that the doorstep moment would be a true parting of your ways (at least today), because he held your shoulders and looked down into your eyes.

“You’re not anyone’s lackey. Please don’t let anyone use you like that ever again, okay?” he said in his kind, deep voice.

“Easy for you to say. You already have a lot of friends,” you sniffled, even though you knew it wasn’t true. The back of your mind remembered this boy talking about how he didn’t have any friends outside of his members. Still, at least he had them.

“I don’t have a lot of friends,” he confirmed your thoughts, “But friends like that asshole aren’t worth it. You’re better off alone.”

You had looked up and smiled besides yourself because you’re not sure you had ever heard a K-pop idol curse. At least not this one. You looked at the ground to hide your smile, and when you blinked to look up, he was gone.

But your heart had felt a lot lighter as you went to bed that night. Because while you may not have that many friends (or any friend at all), you had a feeling you were going to see Jaemin again. And the hope of a familiar bond with someone was all you needed.

3.

The next time you saw Na Jaemin, he looked like a fish out of water… even more so than he had been the first couple of times. 

He wore a black suit that looked maybe a little frumpy on him and his hair had grown out a bit. You were a little ashamed to admit that you knew exactly what video this look was from. Because despite yourself, and despite the consequences you had known you’d face, you had found yourself on a YouTube Na Jaemin binge.

None of it had summoned him then, and if you were completely honest with yourself (no bullshit, no sugarcoating, completely, totally honest), you had been a little disappointed. Because the more of him you had seen on video, the more endeared you had gotten. 

But to catch him whilst you were on a college social trip with your classmates on a Plant and Tree drive, shin deep in mud, was a sight for sore eyes. He was definitely (definitely) overdressed. And he realized as much.

“A bit different from the Rooftop Fight, huh?” was your greeting to him.

He made a face as he picked up his ankles that kept sinking into the wet mud, staining the hems of his trousers. “Couldn’t you have picked a different video to teleport me from?” 

“The wand chooses the wizard, Harry.” you said like a wiseacre, your tools held midway in the air as you watched him with an amused expression on your face.

“I don’t get that reference.” he replied, still doing a march-dance in the mud, before finally looking up to see your face. He paused and smiled back and this time, you actually felt your heart skip a beat. You had learnt that he was known in NCT for his smile, and somehow seeing it in person with that information fresh in your mind was making you a bit… well, squealy. So you looked away and got back to planting and treeing, whilst muttering about Harry Potter and wizards and magic and how he ought to know this (because now, he was living a magic phenomenon himself).

“Why don’t you ever summon me somewhere that’s a bit more… I don’t know… indoorsy?” he complained.

“Bold of you to assume I’m the one that summons you.” you pouted. You hadn’t summoned him. How could you have summoned him? All you had done was think about him. There was no device or video or a bright light or a static sound (just your free mind).

“Well, you’re not appearing in my world, so what’s a boy to think?” He raised his eyebrows and put his hands in his pockets.

“While you’re here, come help,” you suggested. He had thought about it for a moment, because where you were situated seemed cold and wet and muddy, but what else was he going to do whilst he was here? So he knelt beside you and collected the hem of his jacket up, away from the mud.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked, uncertainly all over his face.

“You see these mounds here? I’m going to sow and you’re going to shovel.” 

“Aye aye, captain,” he said as he grabbed the hand trowel from you. He was very obviously out of his depth. But in a while, the two of you had built a good rhythm as you worked in comfortable silence. When motor skills took over and he no longer had to think about what he had to do with his hands and his mental faculties had freed up, he looked up. He saw your other classmates huddled together in different groups.

“How come you’re not working with any of them?” he asked you.

You looked up like you were being forced to look away from your favorite television show and talk about homework whilst your mind was struggling to hold onto the escapism and avoid reality. Reality always sucked. 

“I don’t know. I guess it’s a bummer hanging out with people that look down on you. It’s nicer being by myself,” you tried to explain.

“But how would you have managed all of this on your own?” he asked logically.

You jutted your chin up as if in thought. “Hmm. Maybe that’s why you were summoned. Because I couldn’t manage it on my own.”

“So now I’m going to be dragged away from my world any time you need help with your chores?” he asked and you would’ve thought he was serious had you not looked up to see the funny expression on his face. But you still erred on the side of caution.

“Oh, uh… you don’t have to… if you don’t want to…” you said and reached your hand out to take the trowel back from him. But he held it higher, away from your reach.

“I’m glad you took my advice,” he noted and went back to shovelling. For a moment, you wondered what the scene looked like to an bystander. You were here, kneeling in the mud in your gardening clothes while a K-pop idol was next to you in his finest (not really, but still) suit.

“And what advice was that?” you mused.

“That you’re better off alone. That you don’t need friends that make you feel bad,” he repeated what he had told you the last time.

“I bet it would be nice to have some friends rather than no friends at all,” you said in a moment of realness. In a strange way, you felt that you could tell him anything. Because, spooky appearances and mysterious phenomenon aside, Na Jaemin was the perfect stranger. He would randomly appear, spend a few minutes (or hours) with you, and then disappear from your life, from your world. So, technically, you could tell him anything, and it would have no real consequences in your life.

“I suppose that’s true in a way. I’d rather you still stay away from them if they make you feel bad about yourself,” Jaemin suggested.

“You’re really lucky you have your members,” you said in yearning.

He smiled a genuine smile, “I guess I am. Maybe that’s how you could make friends.”

You sniggered, “What, by joining a K-pop group?”

“No, silly. By working somewhere. Even if it is in a K-pop group,” and by the look on his face, you could tell that he was giving you real, genuine advice.

You had continued to work in silence then because it was actually a pretty nice idea. If you weren’t making friends in college, maybe you could get a part time job to meet people. You could tell that the advice came from one introvert to another. He could probably see that you were never going to voluntarily put yourself in social spaces. But if you were in a system where you had to clock in and out, you would have no choice but to show up and interact with people.

You had been so deep in your thoughts that you hadn’t even noticed that you were back with the rest of the group, or that you were getting a few unkind looks from some people. Jaemin noticed. Because in the next moment, he had rid himself of his jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders.

“Babe, you must be cold,” he said, rather performatively, “Here…” he continued, pulling you in and rubbing his hands up and down your shoulders.

You half-heartedly played along this time. His kindness always worked, because it made people see you as less of an easy target. But it bummed you out. Why couldn’t these people respect you when you were on your own? Why did you need the shield of a boyfriend (a fake one or otherwise) for them to reel back their mean energy? 

But beggars can’t be choosers so play along you did and let Jaemin put his arm around you and hold your hand to help you step out of the mud and idly (or very strategically) play with your hair on the bus ride back to campus anytime someone turned around to look at you.

Even when you stepped out of the bus and found him gone, you hadn’t been able to shake off the feeling that you deserved better than the cards that you were being dealt. Somehow, Jaemin’s kindness did not have the type of effect one would hope to have in this sort of a situation. You weren’t thankful or impressed or smitten or any of those things. All it had done was start to simmer a sort of resolve inside of you.

You were done trying to seek the friendship and validation of these people around you. You were going to take control. And you were going to start today.

4.

The next time you saw Na Jaemin, you found yourself to be embarrassed out of your fucking mind. The fact that you were naked had nothing to do with it.

It was the fact that you had been sprawled on your bed, actually (and very deliberately) watching his video this time. You’d been watching him be funny and silly and chaotic with his friends on Dream Mystery Lab and you were feeling more confident than you had in a while and quite frankly, you were missing him. And as you had gotten up to change into your pyjamas, you had shamefully, embarrassingly, but very purposely thought to yourself, ‘Man wouldn’t it be wild if Na Jaemin was to appear right at this moment?’

And he had, striped shirt, black pants, lab coat and all and said, 

“You know, I always thought you were a fan--whoaaa…” he turned around at the same time you screamed, 

“Oh my God!” and grabbed the nearest thing you could find (a pillow) to hide behind. 

“I’m sorry… was it not a good time to teleport to you?” he asked bashfully, clearly trying to joke the situation better though his voice sounded like it was in pain. This was maybe the first time he hadn’t hinted at any sort of blame for the strange phenomenon on you. This was the first time he had implied that he had done the teleporting. But neither of you noticed that part because there was another elephant in the room (you were naked lol).

“Jaemin, can you like… can you wait outside for a bit?” you tried to even out your voice that was getting higher and higher and coated thick with bashful panic.

“I can’t,” he hissed like he was in pain. Fuck, the embarrassment was painful for the two of you.

“What, why?!” you yelled at his back and saw him hold his hands up.

“No, no, no, I don’t mean anything weird! I’m just going to teleport back to you, remember?” he reminded you very, very (very) apologetically.

“Jaemin, just…” you exhaled in frustration. “Okay, I’m going to walk closer. Just like… wait outside the door. I’ll be behind the door so I’ll still be close to you and it’ll be fine,” your brain was working in overdrive as it often tends to do when you’ve been taken by surprise and also because fuck.

“Okay, good idea,” he replied, nodding his head and agreeing maybe a bit too hard, “Tell me when to step out.”

“Now,” you instructed from behind him, nothing hiding your nudity except the pillow you held and his respectful eyes but when he didn’t move you yelled “Now, Jaemin, now!” and it made him get a move on.

Big mistake.

Because he’d been right (of course he had) and had appeared right behind you and if he’d gotten an eyeful of your bare bottom, he’d been too gentlemanly to say so (also because you had yelped so loud, he had immediately covered his eyes).

“Okay, okay, listen, Y/N… I’m just going to stand with my face in the corner okay? I’ll keep my eyes closed. Just… just put some clothes on, please,” he requested but you started the high pitched, angry, embarrassed squealing again.

“Dude, I’m not naked in front of you by choice! I was literally in the middle of changing when you showed up!” you screamed.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant. I just, I’m sorry, I’m kinda out of my wits here. I’ll just cover my eyes and stand here and I won’t say another word,” the poor boy backtracked as he met your wrath and walked into a corner till he bumped his head on the wall. While he gave up massaging his hurt in favor of clamping his hands shut over his eyes, you scrambled to put your clothes on (why didn’t you try keeping the door ajar, you dummies?). If your buttons were haphazardly done and the hem of your shirt didn’t line up, so be it. At least you were covered. You breathed out, mostly to calm yourself, before you announced,

“Okay, you can turn around now.”

The poor boy turned around really slowly and really guiltily, peeking from the corner of one eye and immediately squeezing it shut, in case this was a fake-out, then slowly opening it again before finally turning around fully.

Then the two of you just stared at one another, because where does one go from here? Na Jaemin had seen you naked. You knew he was too chivalrous to admit it, but who were you kidding? Your awkward moment couldn’t exactly end with one of you leaving (it was never a choice) and you didn’t know how long this visit was going to last (it was going to be hours). But as if you were sharing the same brain cell, your faces turned towards the only other thing in the room that was worth paying attention to: your laptop screen with the words ‘This video has been removed by the uploader’ shining bright against the black screen.

“Did you at least finish watching it?” he asked sheepishly.

“No. No, I didn’t.” you said dejectedly, accepting your fate and the fact that Na Jaemin had seen you naked. You slumped on your bed.

“I’m sorry.” he said in a careful, cautious tone, his face still sheepish and apologetic.

You sighed deeply and softened your face, “Don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault. It’s neither of our faults.” 

Jaemin smiled a genuine smile and looked at you as if he was looking at an old friend (now that the awkward greeting was over), “So how have you been?”

And you couldn’t help but return that smile. You felt the warmth of an unusual joy that started from your heart and traveled all the way to your fingertips and toes. You wondered if this is what the warmth of friendship felt like. “I’ve been okay.”

“It’s good to see you… even if you didn’t want me here today,” he smiled warmly.

‘Oh, Na Jaemin. If only you knew,’ you had thought. Because who were you kidding? You had all but summoned him. You had watched his video, then you had gotten naked and you had thought him into existence, to you (bitch, you crazy), and somehow, it had worked. Your cringiest, stupidest, lowkey most perverted idea to date had actually ended up working (of all your ideas, this had to be the one to work, what the fuck).

So you had found yourself smiling a bit abashedly, “I’m glad you’re here now.”

It’s perhaps the first time either of you had expressed any sort of fondness towards this unexplainable, recklessly spontaneous, supernatural phenomenon that bound the two of you together. It was the first time either of you had acknowledged it as being anything other than a nuisance. So when the awkwardness had dissipated, Jaemin had started to look about your room with real interest.

“I always thought you were a fan,” he completed his thought from earlier as he looked about.

“I am a fan.” you told him fondly as your gaze followed him.

“But you don’t have, like… you don’t have any posters, or… I don’t know… photocards on your phone, or albums…” he mused as he looked at your bookshelf.

“To be fair, you don’t have a full album for me to buy,” you pointed out, which made his head snap around towards you.

“You know, we’re almost finished with one,” he announced with quiet, subtle pride and a hint of smugness that only comes with spilling the kind of tea only you know about.

“What, for real? NCT Dream is working on a full album?” your mouth hung open like you’d received the best gossip (tea!) of your life.

“Mhmm,” Jaemin nodded his head and grinned, like he was all too happy to get that reaction (he was).

“Damn. Took you guys long enough,” you whistled and watched him while his fingers traced against the spines of your books on the shelf.

“So you’re really a fan,” he looked back at you, smiling.

You nodded, slow and relaxed, “I’m really a fan.”

“Am I your bias?” he asked suddenly, looking at you expectantly.

“Uh… uh, yes. Yes, you are,” you replied but Jaemin narrowed his eyes at you.

“No, I’m not,” he stated suspiciously.

“No, you are!” you defended (no, he wasn’t).

“Come on, Y/N. Who is it? Is it Jeno? It has to be Jeno. Girls like Jeno,” he asked you and if he were playing the role of the boyfriend that had been cheated on to make you laugh, it was working.

“No, for real!” you half-laughed, half-talked, “It’s you!”

He covered his eyes with his fingers and turned his head dramatically, “Just say it. Just rip the band-aid, Y/N. Just break my heart.”

You laughed some more, way too amused by his dramatic antics, before you said, “Okay, fine.” He looked up at you expectantly and you said, “It’s Renjun.”

“Eeh-yeahhhhhh…” he groaned out long and airy, like what you had said was the most distasteful thing in the world. And it made you throw your head back and laugh some more.

“Now you know,” you giggled through your words.

He exhaled from his mouth and you saw his expression change, “It’s temporary. He’s your temporary bias.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you pouted at him.

“You’re going to get over him soon and then maybe you’ll bias a different boy. But I’ll always be your constant,” he said with a resolute certainty.

“Oh yeah? How can you be so sure?” you challenged him.

“Because I’m the one that’s here. Not him,” he said and your heart skipped a beat. You looked away because you weren’t sure how stupid you looked when the heat was rising in your cheeks. 

“Well actually, Rejun teleported to me last week. It was really fun,” joking in real moments was the kind of shit you were born to do (you coward).

“Ee-yeahhhhhh…” he gasped again, half in pain, half in disgust.

You kept laughing at him till your laugh faded into a fond smile. So you patted your bed, “Come sit. You don’t know how long you’ll be here. You can’t possibly spend all that time standing.”

Jaemin looked around the room as if looking for a different place to sit. Because the image of your very naked body and your really visceral reaction was still fresh on his mind. He didn’t know how uncomfortable his presence was making you feel. But your smile was warm and easy. So, he carefully made his way over and took a seat as far away from you as possible (no funny business that way). 

“You look well,” he said in another moment of good-hearted honesty.

“Thanks. I’ve been working out…” you began excitedly, but turned your face when you realized that you might have inexplicably addressed your naked body once again when he probably meant something else.

Jaemin laughed uncomfortably and you wondered if the man had the patience of a saint because he still went on, “I’m glad to hear it. You look a lot happier than the last time I saw you,” he noted.

The comment had made you stop and look at him. Because those few words held validation that was so honest that even your self-doubt had to stop and think.

It’s not like Jaemin saw you everyday. He had appeared to you sporadically four times, spaced out by different time intervals. People that see you everyday tend to not notice any changes you’re going through (unless they’ve got a good eye). But Jaemin saw you intermittently enough that any change he witnessed was noticeable to him. It was fascinating and authenticating to hear that your progress translated as a positive change in someone else’s eyes.

“I do?” you asked him gently, “I’ve made a couple of friends,” you gave him the update because in a strange way, he probably had a stake in that part of your life.

“Oh yeah?” he leaned back against the wall as if to settle in and give you all his attention. “Tell me all about them.”

For a moment, you had contemplated his words. ‘Tell me all about it (them)’ he had said. Like he was a human diary, ready for you to unload your feelings on. No one had ever offered their ears to you so you could just talk and they would just listen. You had never had anyone to open up to like that. You weren’t sure you could trust this man enough to lay your heart and mind open to him. But this wasn’t a regular man. This was a man that appeared in your life at irregular intervals for very brief moments before disappearing into the ether. What was he going to do with all your secrets, anyway? He was the perfect stranger. So, what did you have to lose?

“I guess they are my… my gym buddies. I met them in my Pilates class,” you found yourself telling him excitedly. It felt good to tell someone about your life. Something told you that the feeling would become addicting (it totally would).

“You’re taking a Pilates class with other people? Y/N. That is a pretty big deal,” he acknowledged and if you looked proud in return, you couldn’t help it.

“I know right?” you laughed, “But I don’t know, I chickened out of personal training because that would give me way too much attention. I was better off hiding in the back row of the Pilates group class, and I guess I just met some cool people there.”

“That’s really nice,” Jaemin smiled at you fondly. Then you saw his face, like he was picking his next words and then deciding, fuck it. Exactly as you had done. You wondered if he had had the same thought process as you (he had). “Hey, Y/N. If you don’t mind me asking… how come you never, like… how come you never…”

“Made any friends in college? School? My life?” you finished his thought for him because you knew he was too kind to do it himself.

“Yeah… I guess that’s what I’m asking,” he admitted reluctantly.

“Well, I don’t really know. I guess I’ve always been too timid to really put myself out there. Any time I’ve tried to reach out, I haven’t succeeded. So, I guess I’ve never really gotten out of my shell,” you’d never said this out loud to yourself, let alone to anyone else. But doing so was making it make sense to you.

“What kind of people have you… reached out to?” he asked inquisitively. 

“Hmm…” you gave it an actual, healthy thought for the first time ever. “I guess people that seem outgoing? The kind of people who seem like they’d have a lot of friends?” And as soon as you said it, you saw the problem. You supposed the bigger problem was that you hadn’t thought about your mistakes retrospectively or said them out loud before (you stupid).

Jaemin gives you a knowing smile as he watches your face go through all the stages of a revelationary epiphany. He rubs the back of his neck, “I don’t know much about making friends either. But I know that even someone with a lot of people around them can be lonely.”

When you considered his words, you realized you’d been right about him. He was the introspective type. Because his words sounded well thought out in how they rang true. “Hey… how did you make friends with the guys?” you asked, turning your body towards him, curious for the information. Not as a fan to an idol. Just from one person to another.

“A lot of time. The fact that we were put together very young and we didn’t really have a choice but to get along,” he laughed.

“Did you always get along?”

“Oh no. We had a lot of personality clashes,” he sniggered.

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm. And we would have so many silly fights. Some of us were better at expressing our emotions than the others. Some of us had bigger personalities than others. We would have so many disagreements,” Jaemin reminisced.

“Whoa,” was all you could say for a while. “You guys always just seem like… so together. Like you’re the best of friends…”

“Oh no, we are. But we had to work to get there,” he told you easily. You thought for a moment and then broke the comfortable pause,

“Hey, so… what caused the Summer Fight?”

“Summer Fight?”

“The infamous Markhyuck Summer Fight,” you had no idea why you had whispered that part, but even you noticed how excitedly you had changed your posture so you were sitting cross legged, totally turned towards him so you’d be as alert as you could possibly be when you get the answer.

“What summer are we talking about?” He ran his fingers through his hair.

“2017!” you exclaimed like he should know that shit.

“Oh, that would be about that time I had an injury. So I wouldn’t know,” he replied. He must have seen how disappointed you looked at the anticlimactic reply, so he added, “They bicker all the time, though. It must’ve just been a bickering.”

You pouted a bit, “You don’t know any better than the rest of us.”

“Hey, I could ask if it makes you feel any better,” he offered.

“Please! It would ease my mind to know what it was that put a rift between good friends,” you blew air from your mouth.

“Friends fight. That doesn’t mean they stop being friends,” he said.

“Do you think I’m your friend?” you asked suddenly and without any sort of a warrant.

Jaemin turned his head to look at you. But not in surprise. Just in calm congeniality. “I suppose you are.”

And just like that, the relaxed, subdued words of declaration changed your relationship forever. 

Because the two of you spent the rest of the night exactly like this, sitting together, snacking together and talking about anything and everything. 

You told him about your life. Your dreams. Your fears. Your demons. And he told you about his. 

Something in his eyes told you that he appreciated the break from his life these random teleportations brought him (he did). Because even if for a while, he could just be a normal boy talking to a normal girl. No one in your world knew him, or recognized him, or judged him or followed him around with cameras. So, he had no qualms or concerns about telling you about his fears and dreams, either. 

Because what you had forgotten was that you too were the perfect stranger in this curious scenario for two.

5.

The next time you saw him, you wished that you would never get to see him ever again. Because who did he think he was to intrude on your weakest moment? 

Did he not realize that the girl who cries alone outside of a party probably feels as pathetic as she looks? He had no right to appear to you when you didn’t want him (lol, as if either of you had any control over this madness). You had turned away from him because fuck, he looked perfect. He was clad in all white, carrying a flower (it was from a photoshoot, okay?) and him looking so beautiful made you feel like even more of an ugly troll. 

After he had confirmed that you weren’t going to reveal your face because you kept it buried between your knees and hid it behind your arms, he sat next to you on the pavement. Maybe he could just be a comforting presence (he wasn’t) and later, make you feel better about whatever made you this way (he did).

“Now, why did you have to look so pretty if you wanted to cry like that?” he asked, tilting his head to try and sneak a peek at your face. “Are you crying because of all the hearts you broke inside?”

Though your head was still buried and you were still too busy having a good cry, you scoffed. You’d seen Na Jaemin turn his flirt on in videos, but hearing in person was perhaps more disconcerting. Nevertheless, it still didn’t give you enough comic relief to lift your head up or speak to him.

“Come on, now,” he put an arm over your shoulders and attempted to make you lean on him. But you didn’t budge. “Can you at least tell me what kind of tears these are? Are they sad tears? Are they angry tears?” Jaemin crouched down even more, now trying to peek at your face from between your knees. It worked a little bit, because now, he could at least make out a sliver of your expression. Still didn’t mean you talked to him.

“Sad tears?” he asked again. In your awkward pose, he supposed you had shrugged your shoulders (you had), so he continued, “Angry tears?” You shrugged your shoulders again. And he felt so helpless that all he could do was stroke your head while his voice went extremely soft and concerned, “Come on, Y/N. How come something has made you this sad?”

You had to give up your stubborn child act eventually. So you sat up, runny nose, tear streaked makeup, sweat covered hair and all. “I’m not sad,” you declared through your sniffles.

Jaemin looked at you with a lot of empathy, but also like he was trying to bite back a smile. He abandoned saying something in favor of wiping the sweat on your forehead with his hands and unsticking your hair from your skin.

“I’m just… fuck, I am so embarrassed.” you said angrily and it made more tears run down your face. Jaemin swiped at them carefully with his thumb, coddling at you to try and make you feel better.

“What do you have to be embarrassed about, huh?” Jaemin kept wiping your flowing tears and searching your face. In a surreal moment, you looked at him, really looked at him sitting there worried about you. And you realized that his was the only face that was willing to show you any sort of kindness in this place. That only made you feel more miserable. 

So much so that Jaemin had to drop all humor and take your face in his hands and say, “Hey… I’m here…” 

And you cried because, yes, he was here. You hadn’t want him here. You didn’t want anyone to see you in a moment where your opinion of yourself was at its lowest.

Still, he had appeared to you probably because the cruel universe (or that wretched power) saw that you needed someone. It’s not like you had anyone else. Then, who were you to deny consolation from the only person who was providing it to you? So you flung yourself into his arms and cried into his neck because the white he was wearing was so pristine that you were probably going to stain it (you did).

Jaemin had stroked the back of your head and whispered sweet nothings in your ear and when you were all cried out, he had pulled you back to look at your face and softly said,

“Do you feel like telling me what happened?”

“Nothing. I’m just a dumbass who assumed some things,” you replied thickly while he kept brushing your tears, this time with the edge of his palm. 

“What did you assume, hmm?” he spoke to you so softly, like you were a child that had fallen off their bike. Because children that fall off their bikes in front of their friends don’t know what makes them cry: the injury on their body or the injury on their pride.

In a brief moment of clarity, you realized that he had walked in on you sitting on the dirty pavement in a pretty dress all alone, crying your eyes out outside of a party. You probably looked every bit like a child throwing a tantrum. You didn’t want to be treated like a child. But when someone was coddling you and wiping your tears for you for the first time in your life, you couldn’t help but let it all go, all poise and pretense be damned.

“You know that guy…” you began guiltily, because you knew you were at fault, “I don’t know why I thought that he wanted to come with me to the Spring Social. I went out and got a dress and everything but when I came here, he was with another girl,” you frowned and cried a fresh batch of tears as you narrated. You saw his face hardening slightly. You saw the subtle hints of disapproval. But if he thought you were stupid for making the same mistake twice (he did), he was too kind to say it. Instead, he had used the back of his sleeve to wipe away at your flowing tears and said, 

“Oh, thank God. I thought you had accidentally killed your hamster or something,” he joked again once he found it was safe to do so. But it just earned him a rap across his ribs, so he backtracked, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Come here,” he said and offered you his shoulder.

“I really thought I was getting it together, Jaemin. I got so pretty for him,” you told him sadly. “But watching him walk right past me with another girl just reminded me that I’m still that loser that has no friends,” you croaked through your words miserably, laying your head on his shoulder.

“Babe, okay, listen,” he said, straightening you out and holding you at arm’s length to look you in the eye. And though everything in your skin was telling you that it was because you were so vulnerable, you couldn’t help your heart skipping several beats.

Babe.

He had called you babe.

You quickly whipped your head to see if there was someone around you (there wasn’t). Because he would only call you babe when he was pretending to be your boyfriend in front of your unkind classmates.

There was no one around. So, he had no reason to call you babe (he did).

But he had gone on. “You’re not a loser just because you don’t go around collecting people like trophies. You’ve made a couple of friends, and you’ve been good at keeping them. You know why? Because they are the kind of people that like you for you. I’m the person that likes you for you. And it hurts me so much any time you talk bad about yourself. So, can you not do that anymore, please?”

You hadn’t said anything. You had just looked at his kind face and kinder words and something told you that he wasn’t just saying them to make you feel better. He was saying them because he genuinely meant them (he did).

“And secondly, you have it together! Stop thinking you don’t have it together! You’re so smart and you’re in college and you get good grades, and you still take the time out for your interests and you work out. You’re basically superwoman. I don’t know a lot of people that have been to college, but I can tell you no one manages as much as you do. You’re not any less than anyone in there just because you don’t surround yourself with people you don’t need. So, can you please, just... look at yourself with my eyes and see how amazing you are?”

You looked at him. You just simply… looked at him. Had it been anyone else, the words that were being spoken to you wouldn’t even have registered. You would’ve been stubbornly dismissive to any sort of praise being given to you.

But Na Jaemin was looking at you so sincerely, and the concern on his face was so real, that somehow, your stubborn, aching heart believed the words he spoke. So, you nodded.

“Also, can you not do… this, please?” he suddenly asked, looking away.

“Do what?” you asked, wiping your nose on the back of your hand.

“This,” he pressed, flailing his hands dramatically in your direction.

“What?” 

“Can you not look all beautiful and vulnerable and broken like that?” he grimaced and suddenly got up and started pacing about.

“What do you mean?” you asked him from the floor.

“Do you even realize how beautiful you look?” he almost yelled, hands on his waist.

“Stop it, Jaemin.” you told him deadpan. You could tell he was only trying to make you feel better (he wasn’t), but he was kinda laying it on thick (he wasn’t).

“I’m serious! You’re like, all sad and beautiful and vulnerable, and it’s like… yeah, you’re basically like the perfect fantasy for the grand old fixer in me, okay?”

You looked at him, amused and curious enough to forget about your qualms for a bit, “What does that even mean?”

“It means I’m a sucker for a sad and pretty girl and it’s fucked up, but I’ve Googled it, and I’m not alone, a lot of guys are into this, and you’re basically sitting here looking like you’ve stepped out of the wet dream of every single fucked up boy like me who’s into sad and pretty girls,” he had said all of this in one breath and spoken so fast you almost wondered if he was rapping. 

You kept looking at him, and this time, you couldn’t help the smile that was breaking across your face. “Well, I’ve never heard of anything like that.”

“It’s true. It’s a real problem. You should Google it.” he said, lifting his collar and fanning himself with his clothes like he was suddenly hot (or turned on). 

You looked at him, suddenly curious. “And if I keep playing your fantasy tonight, what are you going to do?”

“For starters, I’m going to take you into the party and show that motherfucker that he can’t play with your feelings like that.”

You scoffed, “You and I both know it’s not true.”

He smiled, moving his eyes to look at you in his periphery though his face stayed turned ahead, “It’s not. But I would still take you in there.”

“Then, shall we go?” you asked, knowing full well that you were crossing a line. But what did it matter? You could cross that line and he might disappear and he might reappear. He might take away the consequences with him or he might not. What difference would it make?

So, when he searched your face, then came to take your hand and help you finally get up off the pavement, you felt free. You felt an odd sort of resolve.

You walked into the party and your pretty dress didn’t go to waste. Because Jaemin had taken you by the arm to the dance floor, right in the center and slow danced with you the entire night. If either you had any ulterior motives, like showing that guy what he was missing (you initially had) or finding a reason to be close to one another this way (you did now), you found it melting away into the music and the warmth of your bodies.

When Jaemin told you “You look so beautiful,” you pressed your cheek over his heart and let him sway you. When you looped your arms around his neck and stood on your toes to hold him closer, he wrapped his arms around your waist and helped you.

Because like always, you didn’t know that you weren’t alone in your feelings of loneliness. 

You were you, a girl in college struggling with her identity and failing to impress the popular fuckboys around her (you never tried your luck with the decent types, you idiot). 

But he was him, an Idol who had grown up knowing he wasn’t allowed to date (he had tried). The boy who had lost every girl he liked to rumors and sensationalized dating scandals. 

As always, you didn’t realize that like you, he also wanted someone he could hold this close. That he wanted someone to take care of when she was sad. He wanted someone he could whisper sweet nothings to, to open up his heart to and have her accept him for who he was. 

That’s what he wanted; and it was as if this unexplainable phenomenon, this force that neither of you could explain had heard his heart and brought him to you. The girl who needed someone just as badly as he did.

So when he had pulled away from you to search your face, you knew exactly what he wanted to do. Because his eyes had been dripping with tenderness and his hold brimming with yearning. You had looked back at him, because your heart had been beating so fast. This was Na Jaemin. The boy you used to watch on your computer screen when you were low. The boy who would now appear to you on the strangest of days, when your mind thought you were okay, but your heart would know better.

So, you had looked right back at him. Because you knew that if you gave in right now, it would break all the rules and there won’t be any going back from this. (There wasn’t).

6.

In the grand scheme of things, you and Jaemin could be whatever the fuck you wanted to be to one another.

You could be friends. But the kind of friends that meet spontaneously and infrequently but can hold onto one another without the anchor of time. The kind of friends your other friends don’t even know about.

You could be lovers. But the kind of lovers that never know when they would meet next and when they do, they fade into one another so two becomes one. The kind of lovers that remain a secret to the rest of the world.

You could be nothing. When appearances occurred, you could just wait out the teleportation time, pretending the other was your shadow. Like two strangers that take the same train everyday but never speak. The kind of strangers that aren’t perfect, just strangers.

It didn’t come as a surprise that you and Jaemin chose to be lovers.

And when you haven’t seen your lover in a while, it’s only natural to be wrapped up in their arms and pressed up into their body and attached to their lips (even if said lover has appeared to you in a doctor’s consultation room of all places). 

Once Jaemin had confirmed that you were, in fact, not sick or hurt or anything (just here for a regular check-up), he had taken you in his arms and kissed you like he had missed you (he had). And you had kissed him back with just as much fervor. It felt nice to stand on your tiptoes and be surrounded by his scent and taste his lips and have him taste yours.

In a strange way, you supposed that the both of you felt like you could be as unabashed in your passion for one another as you pleased. You hadn’t really known one another long enough to be madly in love. It hadn’t been too long since you had first crossed the line. But if you were kissing each other like you were two lovers whose union had stood the test of time and that what bound you two was soul, not magic; neither of you was going to question it. Romeo and Juliet had only known each other for a little over four days, and no one ever questioned their love. So who was anyone to question yours? If you two kissed like you were blazing in the passion of a forbidden affair, so be it. Who cares?

Plus, who was there to care? No one. You were no one in his world. He was no one in your world. You weren’t held back by questions or traditions or titles or conventions or friends or family or people. There were no rules in this world that existed when the barrier broke and he came to you. So if you kissed like lovers much too soon, who was going to stop you? Who was going to tell you that you should wait this amount of time or that amount of time before it was acceptable to kiss with the passion of a thousand burning suns? No one.

So kiss like lovers you did. He held your hand while the doctor examined you. He stroked your head when a shot pinched. He spoon-fed you ice cream after it was over. And you accepted it all. Because he was making up for lost time. He was finally living the fantasy of being the kind of boyfriend he always wanted to be, but never got to be. And you were living the fantasy of having the kind of boyfriend you had only seen in dramas, never real life. It was wonderful and magical and fantastical, because you needed him and he needed you.

And you kissed a lot. Even when the appearances were much too short. Even when the appearances were just perfectly timed. Even when he appeared at the wrong times. Even when he appeared at the right times. You kissed and you kissed till the pretense of love started to fade. And real love started to set in.

Because one day, he appeared to you and it took the both of you by surprise. He looked so handsome, it broke your heart (he had had a similar thought about you).

“I was looking for a place to sleep. And here I am,” he said, like the kindness of this magic was surprising him, affecting him deep within his chest.

It occurred to you then that it wasn’t a coincidence that even though it was the middle of the day, you’d been sitting up in your bed, writing an assignment when he had appeared. So, you set your laptop to the side and lifted your arms up to invite him to you. And he didn’t waste a single moment to walk right into them. Laying his head over your chest, wrapping his arms around your middle, closing his eyes like a child that had found the safety of familiar arms.

“I have to be back in 30 minutes. I have a stage to be on,” he mumbled anxiously into your skin.

“Shh… go to sleep. I’ll wake you up in time,” you stroked your fingers in his hair and reassured him.

“What if I’m not teleported back on time?” The worry hadn’t left his tone.

You kissed the top of his head and pulled the covers over him, “I have a feeling this force won’t keep you. It has always taken you exactly where you have to be,” and you thought maybe this is what he wanted to hear because he melted into you till sleep took him.

But it wasn’t what he had wanted to hear. Sure, the force took him where he had to be. But it never took him where he wanted to be. Because if it took him where he wanted to be, he would never have to leave your side.

7.

Neither of you have any idea why, but the next appearance occurs when there had been way too many weeks between this one and the last and you had become almost certain that the magic was over. The force had quit. There were no more teleportations.

It wouldn't have hurt as much had this break occurred after the first few times. Back then, the two of you may have almost been thankful for it. But you had become so used to each other’s arms and lips and words of comfort in the last few times that the absence felt heavier and your hearts grew emptier. The yearning hurt till pain became a companion and hope had surged and deflated several times over.

But when you finally saw each other again, there was no doubt left in your mind that you loved this boy. And there was no doubt in his mind that he loved this girl. Because neither of you moved to seek refuge in the other’s lips with a passion that burned urgent to split the sea. Rather, you saw one another like you couldn’t believe it, then fell heavy into each other’s arms, like you were finally coming home at the end of a lonesome, tiresome day.

“I thought the teleportations had ended,” he echoed your thoughts, voice heavy with incredulous relief, “I thought I was never going to see you again.” 

You heard him as if from a distance because your ear was pressed directly over his heart and you were listening to it thrum as if you were trying to memorize the beat so you could replay it in your mind when you missed him. As if you were trying to match the beat with your own so your hearts would beat the same, even when you were apart. His heart in his world, and yours in your world. You wondered if this is what falling in love with an angel would feel like. Because the power of teleportations lived in him, not you. Because angels didn’t belong on earth. Angels always had to forgo their human form and return to where they belonged. And the absence of Jaemin’s magical appearances in the past few weeks had made you realize that all angels had to leave earth eventually. When would your time be up?

Because you hadn’t replied, he took your face in his palms and looked into your eyes, “Did you miss me?” he asked with hopeful uncertainty. As if knowing that humans are fickle and perhaps he held your heart no longer.

So you lifted up on your toes and spoke into his neck, “I missed you.”

He held you again, tucking your head under his chin and wrapping his arms around you, feeling something lovers often feel when love clouds all their better judgement: that you fit so perfectly into him and he into you, it was like you were made for one another (what a fucking cliché).

He held you back to look at you once the vehemence of being reunited had slowed to a flame. “I hope I didn’t interrupt something important this time?” he asked.

“Oh, no. I just got home. Your timing couldn’t be more perfect.” He saw the clothes from the day you had discarded on your bed and your almost bare face and the products you had spread out on your vanity, indicating that you were getting ready for bed. He smiled at you fondly.

“How come you got home so late? Were you studying?” he asked, sitting you down on the chair of your vanity and helping you continue where you had left off; taking your makeup wipes and doing the job himself.

“Oh no… I was actually out with some friends…” you smiled at him as he wiped the makeup from your skin in soft, gentle strokes.

“Were these your Pilates friends?” he asked, genuinely curious, wondering what all from your life he had missed in these weeks (it was a lot).

“Actually, no… there have been quite a few changes in my life,” you look up at him as he tucked your hair behind your ear to keep them out of the way.

“Oh yeah? Tell me all about them,” he said.

“I actually… applied for a transfer to a different university. I… got in. I transferred…” you catch him up.

He looked into your eyes inquisitively like he was trying to read your mind (he was), “Is this a good thing? Is this what you wanted?”

You nodded, “It is. It’s a much better program and the professors are better and the campus is nicer and… you were right. Not everyone is as catty as they were in my old college. People here are just so much nicer and like… I don’t know? So much more chill? No one cares about what other people are doing and like, they were so welcoming? Like, I didn’t even have to try. A bunch of people approached me and offered to show me around campus and help me with the transfer, and like… I know you always say normal people are supposed to be kind and considerate. But I guess when you’ve been stuck in a bad situation and around bad people for so long, you don’t realize that there is a better life out there? I didn’t realize how… how normal it was for people to just be, like… nice and just talk to everyone? I always thought I was the problem. I know, I know you told me I wasn’t. But, like… oh man, it was such a relief, I can’t even explain it properly.”

Jaemin listened intently, his eyes focused entirely on you. There was a curious look in his eye, like he didn’t like how much of this was new information (he didn’t like it one bit). But he said, “Of course you weren’t the problem. But God, Y/N, I’m just… I’m so proud of you. Do you know how brave this is?”

You smiled at him proud, but shy. “Yeah?”

“Yes! Once again, I don’t know much about college. But I know it’s really hard to transfer colleges. Not many people I know have managed that. And you got yourself out of a bad situation, and that’s like… shit, that is so brave, Y/N,” Jaemin praised you some more and it made you giddy with happiness. You realized that it made you happy because he was the one saying all of this--not because you were starved for validation anymore. You smiled back at him with a sense of comfortable familiarity. The kind of familiarity that makes one feel calm and safe and at home. You weren’t sure Jaemin was feeling the same amount of contentment as you were, though.

“How have you been?” you tilted your head up to look at him and asked him softly.

“Me?” he smiled, “I’ve been good,” he replied politely, massaging your face with whatever products you had laid out. And you realized that he was on a different vibe.

“You seemed really busy… from what I’ve been watching,” you tried to look upon his face and read the emotion behind his polite façade. If you had learnt anything about Jaemin from the time he had started appearing to you, it was that he would use his smile and his humor to shield talking about himself. He shared his mind with you every now and then… but those moments came after a lot of priming and prep-work, when he realized that it was the right time and the right mood and the right kind of safe. Maybe it was too early in the evening for him to have that conversation. So, you decided not to press him too much.

“Yeah? You’ve been watching?” he peeks a look into your eyes before getting back to his work. 

“Of course. I watched every single video hoping at least one could summon you,” you pouted.

When your face was sufficiently prepared for bedtime, he looked down at the floor instead of your eyes. “I wish I had the power to summon you, too.”

You looked up at him, trying to read the true emotion behind his words. It had perhaps taken him years to work on this exterior--the kind that kept his true heart under so many defenses. Jaemin had seen every vulnerable side of you: he had seen your misery and your insecurity and your goofiness and your heart. He had seen you ugly cry sitting on a dirty pavement, for fuck’s sake. You were never good at hiding your emotions, possibly because you never really had to. But this boy had mastered that art. So any time he did offer his true heart to you, it meant so, so much more. But not like this.

“I don’t have the power to summon you, though. If I did, you’d never get anything done in your world,” you laughed (a stupid attempt to lighten the mood).

“Then I wish we could figure out how this force works,” he sighed, “I hate that we have no control over it,” and your heard true agitation in his words.

You thought about it. Sure, it would make both your lives easier. If you got to decide how and when you appeared to one another. Then, there would be no such thing as an inconvenient time, no concept of an insufficient duration of stay and neither of you would have to wait weeks and weeks before seeing each other (like you had now).

But then again.

If you controlled the force, Jaemin would’ve never known who you were. He would have no reason to appear to you, or keep appearing to you. He was a K-pop idol in his world. You were just a regular girl in your world. 

Maybe, in a strange, convoluted way, it was good that neither of you controlled the force.

“Hey…” you said, delicately holding his chin, “... you’re here now.”

“But for how long? How would I know when I’d just disappear? How would I know when I’d see you again?” his eyes grew cold and his frustration grew strong.

“Jaemin…” you began, almost in warning. The two of you had always accepted this phenomenon for what it was. You had never questioned it or been angry with it. You never felt strong enough to challenge it. Perhaps because the stakes hadn’t been this high before.

“How would I know if this would be my last time seeing you?” he finally looked into your eyes and you saw the pain. So you stood up.

“Jaemin… come here…” you reached for him but he held your wrists, like he wanted to be heard, not consoled.

“It’s not fair, Y/N. This force is not being fair to us.” he told you like you didn’t know. Like he wanted you to feel the injustice and share in his frustration of it. Like you shouldn’t be as accepting of it as you appeared to be.

“I know, baby. But I’ve got you. We’re here now.” you reassured him and took him in your arms. You said nothing so he would ease the tension in his shoulders and relax in your hold. 

When he finally did, you felt your own heart grow heavier. Like holding him had made you absorb his pain. You stepped back to look up into his eyes. But when you did, he was gone.

All that time you had pretended to be impassioned lovers, intertwined and holding on, playing make-believe and never mentioning it lest the spell be broken. But now that that love had become true, your lips didn’t touch, not even once.

8.

“I’m going to take you on the best date of your life.” Jaemin declared as he held your hand tight as the two of you walked along the river.

“And how are you going to do that? You don’t even know this place, or when you’d appear back here,” you challenged.

It had been a bizarre and beautiful day. Jaemin had appeared to you whilst you were out with your girlfriends. You would never have thought you’d be the kind that brought their boyfriend along on a girl’s day out (gross), but what could you do when the said boyfriend couldn’t leave your side? Not because of love or separation anxiety, but because of this stupid force shit.

But the other girls’ boyfriends had joined in through various parts of the day, and it had all turned out for the better. For a little while (or the entire sunlit day), the two of you had done things that normal couples did. And you had basked in the warm glory of the ordinary. Everything you did was cliched and normal and so fucking rudimentary, that for a while, you forgot any force or magic that bound you together. You were just a normal girl, he was just a normal guy. And you did normal things.

But a planned date? You both knew that had way too many variables.

As you would have it, you had underestimated one Mr. Na Jaemin.

He may be the quiet one, the introverted, reserved one, the boy that liked staying indoors and away from the sun. But he was also the ace who had the ability to achieve anything he put his mind to. So, he gave you a day and a time and told you to be ready.

And maybe the universe had been rooting for the two of you. Because the next appearance incredibly, beautifully and perfectly happened just as you had finished your last swipes of lip tint. You had looked at him with wide eyes and he had smiled at you a smug smile, saying

“I told you I’ll be here for our date.”

You had no idea what the boy was on, or what handle he thought he had on this force, but you liked this spirit much better than the spirit from his other appearance where he had been so sad and angry. The truth was, neither of you knew what you were doing. You didn’t know what this was, or why it happened, or how you could control it. But if believing it made him feel any better (it did), you were willing to believe it for him. 

“Where are we going?” you asked.

“Anywhere you like. Ask me for anything. Nothing is off limits,” he looked sincerely into your eyes. 

But you’d never been one for the glitz and the glamor (neither had he). So you had taken him by the hand and just gone on a leisurely stroll of the city he’d never explored. You made him try all the street foods he’d never tasted, even when he insisted he wanted to take you someplace fancier (let’s be real, neither one of you liked the fancy shit). You showed him your old school and the house you grew up in. You showed him the park where you had almost had your first kiss. Jaemin had been petty enough to grab you by the waist and kiss you deeply right there, telling you not to have any other first kisses in this spot (not like he had any competition lol). You would’ve smacked him had the park not been totally empty. But it was and you were all too happy to abide by his request.

When he kept pressing you for wishes that he could fulfill, you asked him to buy you this little beaded bracelet a lady was selling by the riverside. They were dirt cheap and didn’t look like much, but you told him that you wanted something to remember him by. To look at on days you missed him terribly and couldn’t summon him. To comfort you and reassure you that you belonged to him and he belonged to you. While he had bought you it willingly, he had sulked as you moved on, because you were simply not wishing for something that was valuable enough (because he still hadn’t heard your true wish). So what was a girl to do? You attacked him with kisses to his sulking face, because Na Jaemin wouldn’t be the kind to enjoy PDA when it is turned to a cringey max in front of other people. Surely it would make him crack (you thought). But you had forgotten that this boy’s flirt was bigger than his introvert, and in this world, there were no cameras and prying eyes to worry him. So if he had grabbed your waist and kissed you silly right there on the pathway by the river whilst people watched, it didn’t faze him. It fazed you, though, because you ended up pushing him away, leaving an extremely smug expression on his face.

“Don’t play the game if you can’t commit all the way through,” he smirked, thoroughly satisfied with the turn of events, but hurriedly walking you away from the chaos so you’d stop getting these looks. When the two of you had moved sufficiently away from the crime scene, he turned back to you,

“I wish you’d ask me for something more.”

You peeked at him through your lashes because all of this was much too perfect. The day had been better than anything you had ever fantasized about (you unimaginative dummy). “You’ve already given me so much.”

“I’ve hardly given you anything at all. I wish you’d ask me for something bigger,” he said in a forlorn voice, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

And in a moment of incredible bravery, you told him what you wanted, what you truly wanted. What the true wish in your heart was. You whispered it to him in abstract and poetic words which no one would have understood. But this was Jaemin. He understood.

So you returned home.

Your heart beat fast. But Jaemin’s beat faster.

He had stopped by a store to get some things you’d need and you had averted his eyes the entire time. But you couldn’t escape or hide from him. You were bound together by magic. And when you finally got home and the door shut the rest of the world behind it, you turned to one another. Nervous, anxious, scared, and in love.

Jaemin took your face in his palms and kissed your lips and you kissed him back. Nice and slow. No rush, no urgency. Just careful, nervous anticipation.

“Wanna go to your room?” Jaemin asked carefully.

“Yeah,” you replied in a whisper. So he took your hand and led you in and when you walked behind him, you realized how tall he was. How broad his shoulders were. They way he held his posture. And all of it made your face burn hot with a newness that tingled.

He set his purchases down and you realized that he had bought candles as well. Your heart fluttered as he set them out and lit them, filling the room with a soft, comfortable scent. You averted your eyes once more when he looked up and caught you staring. But you could stare at him. You were allowed to stare at him. Then why did it feel so sinful? Why did it feel so forbidden to look at the boy you loved whilst the two of you braced in the mysterious caution of what you were about to do? 

He walked to you, slow and meaningful. He took your hands and looked down at the ground.

“I know you don’t want anything from me…”

“... Jaemin…”

“... but I just… I want you to have this, okay?” he said as you looked at him quizzically. He pulled out a necklace hidden round his neck and under his shirt and unclasped it. He reached to sweep your hair to one side to put it on you. “Just like you want to remember me… I want to see this missing on me and know that you have it. That you have a part of me.”

“Jaemin…” was all you could whisper as he adjusted the delicate chain around your neck.

“Y/N. I love you,” he told you, his voice low and brimming with sincerity.

You smiled, warm and reflecting the storm in his chest. “I love you, too,” you whispered because you didn’t trust your voice to do anything else. So you stood on your toes and kissed him, and this felt familiar. This felt calming and sweet and took your mind away from any greater consequence everything in this moment could or could not have. You just wanted to be in his arms for now and steady yourself. He wanted to steady himself, too.

So he gently laid you down on your bed and pressed a kiss to your lips, just like that. This kiss didn’t have the fever of when you used to kiss like pretend lovers. This had the steadiness of a love realized. The uncertainty of a future unknown. The uneasiness of a decision on the wary. He sensed all of it in your lips and pulled back to look in your eyes.

“Are you sure?” he asked, anxiety making his deep voice get lower.

But your decision was made. This is what you wanted. “I’m sure,” you told him, rubbing the worry away from between his brows.

“We don’t have to… go all the way. If you’re not ready…” he breathed out, voice airy and fearful.

You lifted your head and kissed him so any seed of doubt he had in his mind about what you wanted would go away. “Jaemin… I want this… I want you.”

He nodded with a determination that came slow. But when it came, he looked like his mind was made as well. So, he leaned over you and kissed you, nice and long and luxuriously, letting the temperature build to the heat the two of you were already used to. You had kissed like this so many times. This was something you knew. But when his lips started moving from your jawline to your neck, your heart started to race. Your breath started to shorten. Jaemin noticed and pulled back to tell you, 

“If you want me to stop at any point, just tell me, okay? I’ll stop right away,” he reassured you like you didn’t already know that this boy would never hurt you (he would never).

You knotted your fingers in his hair. “Keep going,” you whispered.

He kissed your parted lips once, then pressed another one to the curve of your neck. He nuzzled your skin and kissed on the sensitive spot behind your ear and you shivered.

“Can we dim the lights?” you asked.

“Mhmm…” Jaemin pulled back and nodded his head. He got up to flip the switches and suddenly, the room darkened till your eyes adjusted and you saw everything bathing in soft candlelight.

Something about the light darkness made you feel more brave, more aroused, more in control. You realized there was nothing to be afraid of. You trusted this boy. You felt your desire for him. So, you sat up on the bed and invited him in. When he delicately moved your neckline to kiss along your collarbone, you cupped his face. When he slowly moved the strap down your shoulder, you stroked the nape of his neck. When he carefully started pressing his lips down the dip of your throat next to the necklace he had put on you, you exhaled. Your heart raced, and you’re sure he felt it against his lips. But you had felt his heart racing when you had held him, too. Everything was alright.

He laid you down again, touching you in places that felt new, kissing you where you’d never been kissed before. His hands softly slid up and down your leg, taking his time, allowing you to relax into his touch and trust him. When he felt your body respond and saw your hands ball into a grip on his shirt, he dared his own hands to get bolder. He pushed against the hem of your dress till his fingers skirted nearer to your core. He stopped.

“Can I?” he asked your permission in a whisper.

“Yes,” you stroked his hair then closed your eyes when his fingers pressed over your waiting flesh. He felt your nub and started to rub slow circles on it through the fabric of your underwear. He leaned over you, on one side of you and you gripped his shoulder, eyes squeezed shut.

“Does this feel good?” he asked gently.

“Yes,” you confirmed in a labored whisper. His touches were innocent in their boldness, but you’d never been touched like this before, and now your skin was on fire.

He leaned down to kiss you while his fingers pleasured you. But he wanted to make you feel good, so he carefully slid his hand inside the band of your underwear and watched your face as he rubbed your warm flesh up and down, wanting to give you as much pleasure as he possibly could.

“Can I kiss you there?” he asked and when he saw the uncertainty in your eyes, he added, “It might make it easier… if you come like this first…”

You wished your face didn’t burn at his words but it had so you just nodded. 

“I’ll go slow,” he assured you before he trailed kisses down your body till his face was between your legs. He tugged at the waistband of your underwear and looked into your eyes as if to check if this was okay. When you nodded again, he slowly slid it down your legs.

Though your dress still covered your body, you suddenly felt very, very exposed--more exposed than you had ever been to anyone. But this was Jaemin.

“I love you,” he told you as if he read your mind and bowed his head to press a kiss to your clit and your back arched off the mattress in a silent response. It felt new. This sensation felt new. But you had a feeling tonight would be full of the kinds of newness and first times you’d never again get to feel (maybe so).

He pressed another kiss and looked up, soothingly rubbing his hands up and down the insides of your thighs to help you relax. When you did, he kissed your clit and swiped his tongue over it gently and heard you gasp pleasurably. So he kissed and licked some more till your breaths and exhales turned into moans, making his heart soar as his head grew lighter and he felt the twitch in his pants. Fuck, he wanted to hear you make that sound again. He wanted to hear you make those sounds all night.

He reached for the lube he had gotten. He put some on his hands (maybe more than he needed) and rubbed it between his fingers to warm them up.

“I’m going to add a finger in, okay baby?” 

“Okay.”

“Tell me if it hurts. I’ll stop,” he said, then gently began to circle your opening. He saw the shortening of your breaths in the rise and fall of your chest. He pressed a kiss on your bent knee. “I love you, baby,” he reassured you yet again and pushed his finger in so gently that you didn’t feel any discomfort at all. And to put you more at ease, he pressed his lips to your clit once again, taking his time and building a rhythm against the responses he saw in your body. He moved his finger inside of you carefully and listened to your moans, feeling a strange sort of joy in his chest, one he hadn’t felt with you or anyone before. Hearing you moan beneath his touch was an experience he was never going to forget. His head was so full with your sounds and his skin was so full of your scent that he felt drunk. He felt crazy and light-headed and drunk. But he needed to focus.

“Is this good, baby?” he asked, his own voice shaky as he saw the girl he loved laid out before him, moaning and exposed and beautiful.

“Yes…” you exhaled, biting your lip to absorb the pleasure, “... a bit to the side…”

“Here?” Jaemin moved his finger inside and you put your hand on his to guide him.

“Here... God, yes, right here…” your moans came quicker, as did your breaths and Jaemin wanted you to come, so he brought his mouth hot onto your clit and licked it in the strokes that had made you moan the most. Soon, he felt the immense, almost violent sort of satisfaction when you gripped onto the hair on the back of his head and tensed under him before pooling wetness onto his finger. He felt all these sensations all the way to his hardness.

He came up to kiss you again then rubbed more lube onto his fingers to get it to temperature and massaged it onto the entirety of your flesh, making it warm and comfortable for you.

“Is it too cold?” he asked.

“No, it’s good,” you whispered, then exhaled into the sensation of Jaemin’s finger easing inside of you again, to coat you in maybe more lube than you needed. 

He looked down, away from you and got up to undo his jeans. You felt your desire for him run hot in your veins. This boy was so concerned about your pleasure, about not hurting you, about making it good for you. And you wanted to give him everything. So, you found yourself pushing your dress down your shoulders and baring yourself for him. 

When he lifted his pretty lashes, his breath was caught in his throat. He hadn’t expected it, but seeing you this way made him sure he was in heaven. This was it. He was never going to have a moment in his life that felt this surreal. He looked at you for longer than necessary, boring the image of you, naked save for his necklace, and beautiful and perfect, deep into his mind. It’s an image he was going to revisit often, more often than he would ever admit.

He approached you with a newfound purpose. He was going to love you like no other, even if it hurt him. Even when the magic faded and the force could keep you no more and he would never get to see you again. He was here now, and you were here now. And this was enough. He was going to love you, no matter the consequences.

He knelt on the bed and you knelt with him, just to have a moment of togetherness, a moment of calm and love and comfort before the heat would build. You took his face in your hands and kissed him.

“I love you,” you told him like he told you, because you saw on his face that he needed to hear it.

“If it hurts… if you want me to stop… just tell me, okay?” he asked of you in a soft voice.

“I’ll tell you,” you kissed his face, holding it with tenderness.

“I don’t want to hurt you… I want this to be good for you…” he looked down.

So you held his face again and forced him to look at you, “I won’t let you hurt me, I promise.”

He nodded at what he heard, like your words had given him courage. He sank back on his heels and you sank with him. He ripped open a foil and you helped him roll down the rubber onto himself. He picked up the lube, but you took it from his hands and warmed it in your fingers like he had done for you. You touched him softly and watched his cock twitch at the brief contact. You looked into his eyes as he had done and he nodded as you had done. So you wrapped your inexperienced hand around him and massaged the lube on him, making him close his eyes and hiss at the sweet torture.

How beautiful this boy was. How many times had you watched his videos? How many times had you admired his beauty? But nothing compared to what you saw in front of you now. Nothing in this world could have prepared you for how hard his beauty would hit you when he sat before you like this and you took his pleasure into your hands. His dark lashes brushed against his cheeks as he squeezed his eyes shut. The chisels of his stomach tensing, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he felt your hand pump him. When he had had enough, he opened his eyes and looked into yours and leaned in to kiss you deep and thorough till he was laying you down again.

He pulled the covers up over the two of you, to your shoulders, so he could keep you warm but watch your beautiful face through it all. He laid on top of you, not too much to be heavy on you, but just enough so you could pull him in and hold him and love him when he needed courage. He reached under and lined himself against you, rubbing you with his tip as you looked upon one another’s faces.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Ready,” you replied though your heart raced and your breaths came shallow. There was no going back from this. There was much to lose, and his hesitation and your insistence told you that the both of you knew it but didn’t want to address it. Neither of you had to speak it. Both of you knew what was at stake. Speaking it wouldn’t change it. 

But this had been your one wish to him. Before, you had kissed like lovers and hugged like lovers and yearned like lovers. Now your love was true. And that was going to make everything okay. 

Jaemin’s mouth parted as he began to push into you. He braced himself with his forearm next to your side, while the other held his length, trying to ease himself into you. Though he was careful and concerned and kind, you couldn’t possibly hold back the low gasps of discomfort that escaped your lips.

“Slow, please,” you reminded him lowly, though he didn’t need reminding.

He nodded, lips parted, and almost as if there was no such thing as too careful in this moment, he stroked even more lube onto himself then began easing himself into you.

He heard the whimpers you couldn’t hold back and cupped your face and kissed your cheek,

“Want me to stop?” he whispered in a strained voice, because now that he was inside you, he never wanted to stop. He was lightheaded with how perfect this was, how perfectly you fit on him, how much you were squeezing down onto him and giving him painful amounts of pleasure and making it hard to think. Fuck, he couldn’t think. But he had to. He couldn’t do that to you.

You shook your head, “Keep going, please…” you replied though you kept grimacing and exhaling deeply against the fullness you felt. Jaemin had been so careful and had prepped you so well that there wasn’t any noticeable pain… just a stretch and a fullness you weren’t used to. But you wanted to kiss him to make it easier so you turned your face and found his lips.

Jaemin kissed you back with the passion he knew but he moved in you with slow delicacy for the girl he loved. He knew he loved you though his mind was fuzzy because being inside of you was the best feeling he had ever felt in his life. He wanted time to stop and the world to end and everything to still. He wanted it all if it meant he could stay like this with you forever. He wanted to lose himself and move in you.

“Is this good?” he spoke in a strained voice.

“Mmm… keep going, Jaemin, please…” you moaned, moving his hair away from his forehead.

“Hold me,” he begged. So you held the back of his head and pulled him in so he’d be on top of you fully and you could hold him in your arms. He built a slow rhythm that had you seeing stars but you felt his heart beat against yours. You wondered if it had finally happened, if his and your hearts finally beat the same. If you had cheated space and time and magic and force and made your hearts together as one. And Jaemin wondered the same. 

“I love you so much, Y/N,” he spoke in your ear, “I love you like crazy,” his voice sounded labored as he moaned into the crook of your neck.

You pulled the covers over him to protect him and kissed his head to love him, “Jaemin…” your voice keened of its own accord.

“Don’t let me go,” he begged, and how could you deny him? You held onto him with everything you had, and he moved in you and gasped hot in your ear. He wrapped his arms around your middle and you wrapped your arms around his back and for a moment, the two of you allowed yourself to exist like this. Not as you two people who kept being put together then pulled apart over and over by a sadistic phenomenon that enjoyed your pain. But as two souls that had become one, and no force in the world could split it into two ever again.

The heat built and built and the nervous anticipation from earlier was lost in the passion that you and him created. It was you and him and you were making love, and nothing hurt and everything was fine.

“How do you feel?” he held your face to check.

“Good, Jaemin, please, don’t stop…” you breathed out. Your eyes fluttered shut to take in all the pleasure this boy was giving you though the tightness in your abdomen was building. 

“I don’t think I can last much longer,” he groaned as his movements became more tense and his voice became more strained.

“It’s okay, baby…” you stroked the back of his head.

“I want to kiss you,” he implored desperately, so you held his head and kissed him while he moved and moved and moaned and moaned till his voice broke off the kiss and he groaned out, louder than you had expected, right in your ear, causing you body to shudder with his as he found his release inside of you and he moved through it all.

Eventually, his movements slowed and his head found home on your shoulder as he slumped heavy on you, and you held him. You closed your eyes and you held him and you heard his breaths even out with yours and you wondered if now the two of you even breathed the same. When your eyes grew heavy, you forced them open. You didn’t want to lose this. You didn’t want to close your eyes and find him gone. You gripped onto him, as if doing so would keep him here, right with you where he belonged.

When the moments of stillness had subdued and you found your breaths again, Jaemin felt the movements return to his body and he lightly rubbed your side with his hand. He lifted his head up with a saint-like motivation, because he never wanted to move from where he was.

“You okay?” he pushed your hair away from your face and pressed his palm to your forehead.

“I’m okay,” you nodded and traced your fingertips on his back.

He pecked your lips, then held your hip softly so he could ease out of you carefully. He heard your gasp, even though you hadn’t gasped in pain, just the sudden feeling of emptiness and the memory of him in your skin. He pecked your forehead then sat up on the edge of the bed. He picked up his shirt, one he had discarded earlier and eased it onto you, covering you. You felt your heart yearning at the simple act. So when he got up, you held his hand.

“Don’t leave,” you whispered.

He took your hand in his and kissed the back of it tenderly. “I’m getting you some water. And we have to clean up,” he said kindly.

“What if you walk out and you disappear?” you told him the fear in your heart.

He sat down next to you and leaned over your face, “If I walk out too far, I’ll appear right next to your side.”

You looked away before stupid, fearful tears could betray you and sneak out in front of him. How fucking cliched. But what could you do? He held your face and turned it back to him and looked at you till you looked back.

“Nothing is going to happen. I’ll be right here,” he said strongly.

“You promise?”

“I promise. I’ll leave the doors open, so you can keep laying down, okay?” he stroked your cheek.

“Okay…”

“Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

You couldn’t move. You were too afraid to move. You were too afraid to breathe or move or blink or cry because how would you know what action of yours would make him disappear? You had never known either way. But now you wish that you did. You wish you knew exactly what it was so you never moved that way ever again and he could stay with you for as long as you liked, even if it meant forever. Was forever a possibility with Jaemin? You didn’t know. But now that you had a taste of what it could be like, you yearned for it. And that made your heart hurt.

He returned to you, Jaemin returned to you, just as he had promised. He came to you in nothing but boxers and helped you sit up like you were made of glass, asking you not to move too quickly or too suddenly. He held the cup to your lips and made you sip, like there was no such thing as overly attentive in this moment. Then he tended to you and cleaned you up just enough so you could sit up comfortably. When you did, he kissed your temple and asked,

“Do you wanna go and wash up by yourself? I’ll change the sheets till then.”

You nodded because he was still here and he looked so calm. Like nothing would go wrong. Like everything was exactly as it was meant to be. That gave you some courage and you left, careful to leave the doors open. When you returned, he was still there and the uneasiness in the pit of your stomach softened up. He had blown out the candles and made your bed and when he saw you, he held back the covers inviting you in. 

When he had you tucked in, he got up to turn the lights off and your heart raced, knowing for sure that he would disappear in the darkness. But you felt him climbing in next to you and taking you in his arms and pulling you close to his chest. And you exhaled into him, searching for his face in the dark, unbelieving that you could have this moment. This moment could belong to you.

“I’m afraid to sleep,” you confessed.

“Don’t be. I’m with you,” he kissed your head.

“Please don’t let go,” you whispered, holding him tight, too painfully tight, like if you didn’t, he would vanish into a puff of smoke, leaving only your aching emptiness behind.

“I’ll never let you go,” he held your head to his chest in a promise and pulled the covers up to keep you warm. 

You couldn’t fight the feeling. You were human after all, and you couldn’t fight the sleep in your body though you willed yourself awake any time you drifted off. But each time you reopened your eyes, he would still be there. He’d rub your shoulders and stroke your hair and wrap his arms around you to soothe you. 

“Shh, baby. I’ve got you,” he whispered so softly that it sounded like a drift in the air. When he saw you losing your battle with sleep he stroked your hair and hummed. You felt the vibrations of his sweet, hummed lullaby in his chest beneath you and in the air around you. But when his voice finally made it to your ears, you slept. You couldn’t fight it anymore. You were just a human with no powers that could fight the magic or the force or any mystery of the world, let alone sleep. So, sleep you did.

When you woke, and your eyes adjusted to the morning light and then saw him still laying next to you, you couldn’t bear it. You’d been much better at holding yourself back last night when the tremors and trepidations had thrown caution to the wind and composure in your nerves. But come morning, all of it was gone, leaving behind nothing but your raw, unadulterated, ugly emotions. Because you held into him and sobbed into his chest in a gratitude that you couldn’t endure. The relief crushed you. He was here. He was still here. The force had been kind and had kept you with him so you wouldn’t feel the loss of him when you’d be most vulnerable in your aching for him. You sobbed and you sobbed till you worried him, and he kept checking your face and asking you to please stop crying.

But he felt the unbearable relief, too. He had spent all night holding you tight and fighting his sleep and praying to something he didn’t believe in. He had prayed and prayed to the sky, to the force, to the mystery, to the powers that be to keep him here with you. At least for this night, if not any other night ever again. He wanted you to wake and see him next to you and know that he didn’t desert you. That he wanted you though the heat had subdued and the night had ended. He wanted you to open your eyes and know that he still wanted you. That he still loved you.

So he had prayed and he had bargained that he would do anything, just to stay with you come morning light. He would’ve fallen to his knees and begged to the sky if it came to it, because he had never wanted anything worth begging for before. He would give up anything, just for this one moment.

He kissed your head and wiped your tears and when you didn’t stop, he kissed your tears. He held you and rocked you till your breathing slowed to sniffles and your heart calmed. He rubbed your side and looked down at you. You saw the curious shadows his eyelashes cast on his face through the diffused sunlight in your room and you wondered if you’d ever see a more beautiful sight ever in your life. You never wanted to leave this bed. But eventually, you would have to.

“Are you okay? Are you very sore?” he asked gently.

You shook your head, “No. Just a tiny bit.” How could you hurt after he had loved you so good? He hadn’t hurt you one bit.

“Can I make you breakfast?” he smiled at you.

“Okay,” you smiled back.

You leaned on the counter while he cooked for you, watching how he looked so at home. It was an odd sort of morning, one that felt new and familiar at the same time. You sat and ate and fed each other and talked like everything was normal. Nothing was out of the ordinary, everything was as it was meant to be. 

He insisted that you go about your day and make no changes on his account. He waited with his back to you as you showered. But the images from last night were imprinted in his mind. So when he slowly turned, you invited him in. Because they were burned into your mind, too. You both kissed in the shower, lost in one another. He held you and rubbed you gently to pleasure till you came apart on his hand. When you sank to your knees and took him in your mouth, he guided you, his groans lost into the splashing of water on your bodies.

When you got ready for your day, he helped you. Drying your hair and zipping your dress and stealing as many kisses as he possibly could. He sat by your feet to tie your shoelaces and when he got up and walked you to the door, he kissed you deep, like a normal boyfriend sending off his normal girlfriend onto her normal day.

“Coming?” you asked when you broke away.

“I have a feeling I have to get back to work, too,” he sensed.

“Oh…” you replied, though the dread you had felt about parting from him the night before was gone. You had had your fill, but not in a way where you didn’t want more. Rather in a way that filled you with hope of what could be. This was good. This was normal. This was something you could have. The previous evening and night and this morning had proven it to you. You knew it in your heart. “Well, then…” you held his cheeks, “... have a good day,” you smiled, basking in the normalcy.

“Have a good day,” he echoed, kissing you goodbye.

He held the door and waved and watched as you walked away. He kept watching you for as long as he could. Because when you turned to look over your shoulder, he was gone.

9.

If there was something you had learnt about Jaemin, it was that each appearance brought with it a different side of him. The energetic and the laid back. The bright and the dark. The ice and the fire.

There were days when you got the best of him. The lightest, brightest parts of him that made it seem like everything in the world was good. But there were also days when you got his darkness. Where he felt tired and drained and nothing you could say or do would make anything okay. 

Today was the latter.

You felt the heaviness in the air as soon as he appeared. Eyes distant, presence forlorn. You knew something was the matter when he sat next to you in the library and you took his hand. You tried to believe that he was sitting in silence in respect to the studying students around him (that included you). But as soon as you walked out together and you hugged him, your worry intensified. Because you knew that his mind was far away. He wasn’t present.

“Are you okay?” you tilted your head up to look at him.

He looked down at you, and though he tried, his eyes remained distant. “I’m okay,” he nodded.

“Let’s go home,” you took his hand and felt how he didn’t immediately grip it like he always did.

“Don’t you have classes?” he asked with a politeness you did not like.

“No. I was just catching up on some readings,” you told him, studying his face.

“I don’t want to keep you from your work,” he said, too considerately. Too formally. 

“It’s okay, I wanna go home,” you replied. You took his hand and tugged on it. He moved. Not like he had a choice but to. He had to move when you moved.

The two of you walked for a while in a silence that felt heavy. It felt burdensome. And the further you walked, the heavier it grew on your shoulders. Almost as if in response, you felt Jaemin reach to you and take your bag and carry it for you, like he could at least take this from your shoulders while everything else held them down. You had experienced his mood swings before. When he was tired from work, when he felt something wasn’t happening his way, when he was generally just on an energy recharge. You had seen it all. But this was different. 

When you reached home, you could hide no longer. Neither of you. You weren’t protected by distractions or other eyes or the openness of the sky or the air that could diffuse whatever tension existed between the two of you. Now, you were confined in the walls of your house where you had to exist, together and alone. Where the tension had no place to go, no air to dissipate in. The walls and the ceiling would rebound it till it came back to you, demanding to be addressed.

So you turned to him. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?” you took his hand because your mind idly remembered reading somewhere that couples should hold hands when they fight. And you were a couple; though you’re not sure if this was a fight, whatever was impeding on you both.

He didn’t let go, which you supposed should’ve been a good sign. But the words he spoke told you otherwise: “I don’t think I can keep appearing to you anymore.”

You studied his face curiously. You saw the stone cold set of his features. You heard the evenness of his tone. You felt the composure in his form. But you knew him better.

“What makes you say that?”

“I just… I know,” he answered.

“You and I can’t control it, Jaemin,” you tried to reason sensibly against whatever gloom was betraying him today.

He scoffed once, like he didn’t need the reminder. “Don’t you feel it, Y/N? Can’t you tell it’s going away?”

“Jaemin…” you pulled him closer by his hand and looked up into his eyes and urged them to reveal their true feelings, “... what do you mean? What do you feel?”

“I think our time is up,” Jaemin said in a voice that sounded like a breath.

“Our time isn’t up, Jaemin,” you stood on your toes to kiss his face, “Our time has just begun.”

“If not now, then when? How long do you think this can keep happening?” he looked up urgently and let his voice showcase a bit of the frustration he felt, still too in control.

“For as long as we’re together. For as long as we need each other,” you replied with certainty.

He smiled then and cupped the side of your face. You leaned into the touch. “I don’t think we have that power,” he said sadly.

“We do,” you said stubbornly. He swept his thumb across your cheekbone and kept looking at you like he was memorizing your face. 

“It’s fading, Y/N. I can feel it fading,” his tone was so defeated that it made you angry.

“It’s not. I don’t feel it, Jaemin. I don’t feel what you’re feeling,” you shook your head. How could he be so sure that the magic was leaving? How was he ready to give up so easily?

“Listen, Y/N,” he turned his body to you and took your face in his hands, using his thumbs to lift your chin. “I’ve loved you more than I’ve ever loved anyone, okay?” and for the first time since you had met him, you saw tears make his eyes shine. He didn’t let them fall, not even once.

“Jaemin, stop. Stop it right now.” you pushed against his chest. You weren’t going to allow him to do this.

“Please, Y/N--”

“No, Jaemin--”

“--just let me say this, please. Just let me tell you,” he pleaded desperately. Like a man asking for his last wish. Who were you to deny it?

“What?” you gripped the fabric of his shirt in your hands.

“Be well, okay?” he stroked your head.

“Jaemin…”

“Study well and live well. Don’t forget to eat your meals on time. I know you forget to eat when you’ve got work. Don’t do that anymore, okay?”

“No, because you’ll remind me!” you weren’t going to let him say goodbye. It wasn’t in his power to decide when you’d say goodbye. How dare he act like he knew what he was talking about?

“Meet with your friends every weekend and never be alone, okay? You don’t like being alone. You like having friends. Even on days you feel like being alone, tell your friends how you’re feeling. Let them be there for you,” he held your face and didn’t let you move though you were fighting him. You were gripping his shirt and pushing him off of you and fighting him. But he wanted to be heard.

“I’ll see them just as much as I’ll see you!” you pressed, shaking your head.

“Just know that you’re the most amazing girl on the planet. The best girl I have ever met. You’re kind and brave and strong. And you’re a fighter. Always fight back, Y/N,” Jaemin said intensely and you grabbed onto his wrists and tried to pry his hands away.

“Jaemin! Stop it right now!”

“Don’t miss me too much, okay? Live well and be happy. Live the happiest life you can ever live. And if you ever miss me, just remember…”

“Remember what? Remember what, Jaemin?”

“This was all in your head, anyway.”

And with that, he disappeared right in front of your eyes. Like a puff of smoke. Here one moment, gone the next. He didn’t leave behind a trace. Not a footprint, nor a scent. All he left behind was a girl he once loved.

10.

Live well, be well, eat well, study well.

How could you not do any of those?

What ailment could make you stop doing any of those?

You were human, after all. You were going to live and breathe and eat and do whatever it takes to keep yourself moving on.

What did magic mean, anyway? What was power, what was force? What was mystery, what was appearance? They were ideas in the air. They were philosophies and thoughts. One couldn’t touch them or hold them or keep them or store them. They hung like smoke so you felt like you could see them, but you couldn’t reach out and hold them. No one could.

But you were magic. 

You had lived your life even through moments you had felt alone. You had been wronged, but had never let it make you cynical of life.

You were power.

You had picked yourself up and gotten yourself out of bad situations. You had changed colleges and made friends and given yourself a life you deserved.

You were force.

You continued to study like crazy and get good grades. You worked part time and exercised and had your shit together. You took every challenge head on and never let it defeat you.

So what if the mysteries and appearances had forsaken you? So what if the wonder and magic had left your life? You were human. You would always find a way to live on. You were the biggest force of them all. 

You never watched his videos again. You averted your eyes and your ears from any news of him, any mention of him. You didn’t look up every time and hope to find a face. You never double checked over your shoulder at night, hoping to feel a presence. You didn’t flinch anytime you turned and found someone sitting by your side. You ate all your meals on time. You met your friends on the weekend. You ate well, you slept well, you studied well, you lived well.

But you were human, after all. If you had forgotten to take the necklace off from the moment he put it on you, you didn’t begrudge yourself. If the beaded bracelet remained on your nightstand all this time, you didn’t hide it. When the evenings became chilly and you had to use his jacket to keep you warm, you didn’t berate yourself. When you closed your eyes and saw his smile, you didn’t shake the thought away. 

The magic had disappeared and the force had disappeared and he had disappeared. But the memories hadn’t. They belonged to you in their entirety. No mysterious being could keep them. No human could extract them. Your only enemy was time. Because as time went on, the memories started to fade. You were human, after all.

So you sat in the library and put your head to work (exams were the biggest force of them all). Your time was better spent on things that were real and tangible and definite. You were working on yourself, and that mattered more than anything else. More than anything else in the whole, unexplainable world.

When you were nearly done, a girl you’d seen around campus came to sit next to you. You weren’t lonely anymore, but perhaps your soul was, and lonely souls existed and flocked together. 

“Hey, Limmy,” you acknowledged her as she sat.

“Why do you look so down these days, Y/N?” she asked instead of a greeting. Though you’d only spoken to her maybe once or twice, you knew that she was known for being odd. You only saw her as free-spirited, though. A lonely soul, just like you, stumbling her way through life.

“I guess it’s the exam stress,” you offered, smiling at her.

“But your eyes are so sad,” she observed and you felt a sinking feeling deep within your chest. Friendly strangers had the ability to see you, perhaps. You were a magnet to familiar strangers through all of space and time, it seemed. The kind of strangers that stop by and give you a good time and then leave forever.

“I, uh…”

“Is it because your comfort character is gone?” she asked directly.

You felt your heart stop. Though her words made no sense, you knew exactly what she was talking about. No, you couldn’t know what she was talking about. How could she know? How could anyone know? No. You were mistaken. You didn’t know. She didn’t know. “My… my what?” you may have stupidly ogled at her. She didn’t seem to mind.

“Mine stopped coming to me a long while ago. She may have found someone else who needed her, I think,” she looked off into space, nodding her head.

“What do you mean, Limmy? What do you mean she stopped coming to you?” you turned to her and despite yourself, spoke pressingly.

“Oh, you know. She must have been assigned to someone who needed comforting more than I did. Her videos kept being taken down, but she wasn’t coming to me. So I figured,” she shrugged.

You’re pretty sure your eyes popped out of your head. You hadn’t realized you were pulling on Limmy’s sleeve, holding her so she wouldn’t walk away. So she would give you answers. You needed answers.

“How do you know I had a… a comfort character?” your voice sounded as incredulous as you felt.

“I could see him,” Limmy said.

“Yes, but, how did you know what he was?” you asked impatiently.

“Because I could see him, silly.”

“Yes, but how did you know? How did you know how he… what he was?”

“No one else could see him, probably. You don’t really know anything, do you, Y/N?” she pouted at you.

“No, I don’t, I really don’t, Limmy. Please, tell me everything, please…” you were begging, you were desperate for answers. Limmy wasn’t matching your desperation, and that was making you more wretched. But she wasn’t leaving either, even if she spoke in riddles and that was giving you the kind of hope that was frustrating and dangerous.

“Well, some people have the sight and some people don’t. I don’t really know how this works, either,” she giggled, like she wasn’t privy to the storm in your chest. How could she be? All you were doing was pulling at her and begging.

You tugged on her sleeve, “What did you mean ‘assigned’? Who was assigning them?”

“The FLAT, of course. Who else?” she said indifferently. 

You had no idea what any of that meant. Nothing was making sense. So, you kept asking, “But do they ever come back? Did you see your… your comfort character again?”

“Oh yeah. I went to her fansign.”

“And? What happened?”

“She didn’t recognize me,” Limmy answered a bit sadly.

“Huh? Why? Why didn’t she recognize you?” you pressed, maybe being a bit insensitive to her emotions. But you had no handle on yourself in this moment.

“They lose all their memories of you when the SYNK ends and they stop coming to you, unfortunately. Comfort characters are created for a reason, you know. Wow, you really don’t know anything,” Limmy shook her head, almost as if in disapproval. 

But your heart was aching so hard that disapprovals didn’t matter. Politeness didn’t matter and sanity didn’t matter. Your hand left Limmy’s wrist and clutched at your own shirt. You tried to breathe. 

“Limmy…”

“Hmm?”

“Was it all… did I imagine it all?” you asked her the question you were most afraid to ask.

At that she smiled wide, almost as if in happiness. “Of course you did, silly.”

You nodded and got up because you couldn’t take it any longer. You were going crazy. He’d been right and she was right. You were losing your mind. You collected your things and turned on your heel. But right before you left, Limmy spoke again,

“That doesn’t mean it wasn’t real.”

11.

It’s funny how curiosity works. Sometimes, the unfamiliar really piques your interest so you don’t stop at anything till you get answers that satisfy the itch in your brain. Other times, it stays under the radar because your mind holds onto smaller, familiar things that seem more comforting than the unknown.

Whilst it was happening to you, you had remained cautiously uncurious. You had forbidden yourself to ask more than what you knew, to understand more than you did. You don’t know why. You had tried, in the very beginning, to make some sense of it. But perhaps you had been too afraid. First, too afraid of what people would think. Then too afraid that questioning it would break the spell. As if asking too many questions would offend the force (or FLAT or SYNK or whatever the fuck Limmy called it) and it would stop bringing him to you. 

But now your curiosity burned like a thousand suns because you wanted to know what it was that happened to you. What happened to you? Who did this? What were you when you existed with him? What was he when he existed with you? Did the world change to a fantasy when you were together? What language did you even speak to one another? Fuck, you don’t have the answer to anything even though whatever happened had changed you.

How could you have been through something that changed you; it changed you, mind, body and soul, and nobody saw it happening? It happened to you. It happened. How dare he or anyone else in the world pretend like it didn’t? Who gave them the right? Who gives anyone the right to label what has or hasn’t happened to you. Whether it was real or imaginary. Only you had that right. It happened to you and you had the right to get answers.

And all of it had brought you to this point where you were sat in your room, the place you had shared so many memories with him, waiting on a fan video call.

You had never thought you’d see the day. 

You remember Jaemin pointing out once how you had no posters, no physical albums, no lightsticks, no merch, no memorabilia or anything at all that helped him or other people identify you as a fan. Perhaps you had never had the motivation to partake in fanfare. But a fan you were. And you weren’t ready to believe that he wouldn’t remember you. 

How could he not remember you? How could he not remember every kiss, every touch? Was it not burned into his skin like it was burned into yours? Was his soul not changed forever the way yours was?

‘They lose all the memories of you when the SYNK ends,’ she had said. But she did not know what you had shared with him. Had a ‘comfort character’ ever fallen in love with the object of their comfort offerings? Who would know?

But you had to know.

You needed answers.

So you waited, heart in your hand, knowing everything you would say to him and knowing nothing at all. When the call came, the storm calmed to something else. An untimely deflation. A silence in time. You felt the yearning in your chest. Because you were human, after all and you hadn’t seen his face in God knows how long. 

And when you did, it took your breath away. You forgot how to speak. How to function. How to move.

“Hello there,” he said in his beautiful voice. But you knew right away that now, this beautiful voice would haunt you forever. It held no familiarity. No sense of belonging. No sign of memories. 

You had heard his voice in every possible way a voice can be heard. You had heard it whisper sweet nothings. You had heard it hum soothing lullabies. You had heard it gasp in moments of passion. But all of it would fade to the back. This. This would be your freshest memory of him that would steal the sleep from your nights.

He greeted you with polite, pretty kindness that he offered his fans. You were a fan. You had always been. 

“Hi…” you said and your eyes brimmed with tears. He saw it right away and started to coo at you. You realized he was probably used to this. People would probably cry in front of him all the time. He probably had his pretty words of consolation on lock for his adoring followers. Because that’s the kind of comfort he offered you. The consolation of a kind idol speaking to a fan who had been moved to tears at seeing him and getting his attention, even if for two minutes. The kind of fan who held tight onto this parasocial relationship because of whatever solace from their lives it offered them. 

This is what it was, now. A one-sided relationship, because seeing him confirmed in your heart what you had known in your mind: this man didn’t remember you. 

“Do you know me?” you asked because you always held onto foolish hope, hating how your voice sounded thick with your tears.

He smiled with the sheepishness of a man caught in a sticky spot, “Were you in the other fansign as well?”

“No, I…” you began. But what use was it? He didn’t know you. He would suppose you were this fan or that fan. You should hang up the call while you still held your sanity.

But you found yourself speaking again and the words you spoke surprised you. “I just wanna say… thank you for saving my life.”

How fucking cliched your words were. He had probably heard them from a thousand fans in a thousand different ways, but you couldn’t help it. He sat back in his chair and smiled adoringly.

“Please, don’t cry,” he said softly. He had always hated it when you cried, but he didn’t know it now.

“Thank you for telling me that I am brave and strong even when I didn’t believe it myself,” you told him, though you’re not sure he understood because of how tainted your words were by the breaths that kept hitching in your throat. “You’ve been my guardian angel all this time and you don’t even know it.”

If just for a moment, you saw his eyes flash something. But it was gone in the next moment. You saw the sincere gratitude on his face, but it was the polite kind he offered to a fan. Not to the girl he had once loved. 

“Of course you are brave and strong. You’re the strongest person in the world, okay?”

You nodded because the more you spoke to him, the more his unfamiliarity broke your heart. You were torturing yourself in the limbo of wanting to leave and wanting to speak to him forever, even if it hurt you.

But even the power to make this decision was taken from you, because you heard the offensive timer beep, signaling the end of your time with him. 

“Please, don’t cry,” he repeated. “Remember to eat your meals on time okay?”

You laughed through the tears, “Thank you for reminding me. I always forget to eat when I work.”

“Don’t do that anymore, okay? You have to eat to get energy,” he scolded and you watched as a staff member urged him to get on the next call.

“Goodbye, Jaemin…”

“I will always remember you,” he said as a sign off, almost as if to mock you.

And when he left and the screen went blank, you allowed yourself to fall into your bed and cry into your pillow. You allowed yourself to cry all the tears you had been holding back for the boy who had stolen your heart and loved you so good that it changed you forever. You allowed yourself to grieve the magic you had lost. You allowed yourself to come to terms with the fact that he was never going to return to you. Because he had forgotten you. You were forgotten like a bad dream. Or an item stored away too carefully, never to be found again. 

You were human, after all.

Humans felt despair and anguish. Loss and sorrow. Humans pushed their feelings to the back so they could function properly in the day. And in the loneliness of the dark, humans allowed those feelings to surface.

Living, breathing, studying, eating, being.

Humans did it all. Even when those things lose their taste. Humans don’t have a choice but to be. And you were human, after all.

You went on though your shoulders were weary. You lived on though each step was an uphill. You hadn’t known you were the brave kind till you had to stand in the face of fear and loss and sorrow. Because it takes a brave person to accept them for what they were but still keep pushing on.

But humans heal, and so did you. You had no choice but to heal. Who were you to give up on the life that was given to you? Your life was the most beautiful thing in the world. Your bravery was the truest thing in existence. Your perseverance, your intelligence, your ability to fall and keep getting back up was what made the world go round. 

So what if you were forgotten. You would forget, too. You were human, after all.

12.

You were having a strange kind of dream. 

The colors were vivid one moment then calm the next. You were travelling one moment then resting the next. Your body felt numb one moment then alive the next. It was the kind of dream that disorients you, one where you’re not sure if it’s a dream or a nightmare. One where you don’t even know if you’re dreaming or not.

Your body felt too aware of its existence, but your mind wasn’t too sure. You felt the heaviness of your being on the mattress, but your mind couldn’t figure out where you were. But then your body turned to its side, and there he was.

You smiled. 

He looked so real. Sometimes, you would wonder if you would forget his face. If the sparkle in his eye or the innocence in his smile would fade from your memory like the pain had. You’d been so wrong. Because you were imagining him so perfectly right now, every nitty gritty detail. Lying next to you, his body turned to you like you were turned to him, arm tucked under his head. His features soft, his eyes open as they looked at you.

“It’s you,” you whispered.

It felt good. This was a good dream. This wasn’t a nightmare like you had thought. Everything was alright. He was laying next to you in your bed, and he looked as good as you remembered. His skin was still as smooth, his lashes still as pretty. You’re impressed by the power of your dream. How well it had constructed him from your memory.

“I missed you,” he whispered back. 

You had no idea he could talk. Your imagination had a different kind of strength today. Because it even had his beautiful voice on lock. The way it rasped in its softness. The way it reflected the tenderness of his heart. 

Oh, but the words. The words sounded so sweet. They were truly the words you’d been longing to hear. But there was poison in this sweetness. These words could hurt you. You smiled still. Everything sweet in life was poison, anyway. Maybe, if just for a moment, you could savour it.

“Don’t lie,” you accused in a whisper.

“How could I lie to you? Have I ever lied to you, hmm?” he said in an almost pout.

You smiled. You supposed he was right. But lies always sounded so sweet and the truth had always been appreciated for its bitterness. How could there be sweetness in truth?

“I missed you, too,” you whispered, and wondered if those words were enough. They seemed so small. So insignificant. But if you were dreaming, who was to say you had any control over any word you uttered, anyway? 

But Jaemin felt the meaning behind them. He always did. Because his eyes filled with a tender sort of sadness and he reached out a hand to your face. How warm that touch felt, even in your imagination. Just as warm as you remembered. Just as loving, just as meaningful. Your eyes closed, even in your dream, just to give into that feeling. Who was to say if you were dreaming or awake? People could dream with their eyes opened or closed. But his hand was on your face and the warmth was real enough for you to wish for it to never end.

“You forgot me,” you accused him on another account. The hurt burned in your eyes and dripped into a hot tear on your pillow.

“How could I ever forget you?” his thumb stroked your tears as he whispered.

“You did,” you whispered and closed your eyes again as his lips pressed into your forehead. Oh, it felt too real. This was dangerous, this was very dangerous. If you let yourself savour it anymore, you wouldn’t be able to wake up. You would never be able to tell your dreams apart from your reality.

“I’ve told you, Y/N. I don’t have that kind of power,” you heard the smile in his voice.

“What kind of power?”

“The power to control anything. The power to forget you,” he pulled back to look in your eyes so you believed it was true. Who knew? Who could say what power he had or you had? If he held all the memories in reality or was just appearing in your dreams to comfort you. 

“Then don't ever forget me, okay?” you whispered.

“Okay,” he promised, then held you to his chest. You heard his heart beating, and you wondered if it still beat with yours and you gave in. Your dream was too vivid to be safe, but it was okay to lose your mind for a little bit. It was okay to let your fantasy get out of control, just for a while, because this feeling was sweet, even if it was poison. 

“I’m afraid to wake up,” you admitted.

“Why?” he pulled back to look at your face.

“Because this dream will end and you’ll be gone,” you whispered and you wish you didn’t because Jaemin looked at you with a sadness that told you he knew it was true. And there was nothing to be done but to hold you in response. Pull you close where your head tucked under his chin and over his heart.

“Oh well. You’re here now. I guess that’s enough,” you said in the moments where you could feel the dream slipping into darkness. And just before it did you felt hot moisture drip on the top of your head. It made you sure that you had truly lost your mind because of how real the sensation was even in fantasy.

But Jaemin had never cried to you in reality.

13.

You woke up a little disoriented. Your head had a dull sort of an ache, one you were sure would go away as soon as you had your first cup of caffeine. 

There was so much you had to do today, even if it was a day off. You had to do your laundry because there were only so many times an outfit could be worn before it demanded a wash. And your sink was full to the brim with dishes; to the point where you had actually considered switching to paper plates and plastic cutlery (you were sure mother nature would find it in her heart to understand the struggles of a college student). You also had to do some meal prep because eating ramyeon for all three meals was going to bite you in the ass (or your cardiac health) sooner or later.

You groaned at all the chores you had lined up, even on your day off, and that made you lay in your bed just a little bit longer. Maybe if you pretended you had no chores, they would go away. But five minutes into your lay-in you groaned and got up. You were a grown ass woman (you think) and you had to stop avoiding responsibility one time or the other (now would be great). 

‘Get up and take charge of your life, you lazy ass,’ you pep-talked yourself and got up, pulling your hair back and checking your face in the mirror once. On the upside, your skin didn’t look too bad and you had all your assignments lined up well in advance. You would maybe do some light revision this weekend and you’d be way ahead of the game. Maybe you’d call your friends and see if they’d want to do something together. You just needed to cook and clean and do laundry and you’d be right on track. 

“You got this,” you said out loud to yourself in the mirror and gave yourself a knowing nod. You just needed caffeine to start your day and you could get shit done. You turned and picked up your bra off the floor, and your shoes, and your socks. It was one thing going commando when you were at home, it was another thing spewing all your stuff on the floor. You needed to get your act together. 

You picked up all your discarded clothes from the floor and put them in your laundry hamper. You piled your books so they would at least stack in one place before you could return and sort them the fuck out. You picked up the shoes so you could put them where they belonged because why did you even bring the dirty things into your room? 

As you made your bed, you got a flash of the strange dream you had last night. But remembering dreams is hard, and you were struggling. The more you tried to remember, the more it slipped away. You’re sure you had dreamt of him in some way. You sighed.

The dream was gone and he was gone, and you had long stopped dwelling on it. There were bigger things that needed your attention (you had to be your own housemaid for starters). So you grabbed your dirty shoes and made your way out your room. But as you did, you heard a sound. And your heart stopped.

There was someone in your house. 

None of your friends had any keys or knew the code to unlock your door. The landlord would never just show up without telling you. Fuck. Someone had broken in. You tiptoed your way back into your room to grab your phone so you could call the emergency. You held your stilettoes in one hand (they could do some damage if chucked well), and your phone in the other. You tiptoed your way out, making sure not to make a sound till your kitchen came into view. You saw a pan sizzling away on the stovetop and you heard your stomach gurgle. You internally berated it to be quiet, but also, what the fuck. What sort of an intruder breaks into a stranger’s house and starts cooking? Very carefully, you moved a little ahead to see if you could catch a glimpse of whoever it was. Your heart raced like crazy as more of your kitchen came into view. You stopped and slowly leaned forward on your toes, silently moving your head so you could just see the person behind the countertop…

“You’re awake,”

You heard a voice from behind you that made you jump out of your fucking skin, and in a moment of flight, fright or fight, you did something incredibly stupid. Instead of chucking the stilettos at the culprit and dialing the number to the police, you ended up flinging the phone with full force and holding the shoes to your ear.

And Na Jaemin ducked, turning to his side while his arms protected his head. The phone hit him squarely in the ribs before it clattered to the floor while you startled and jumped back several places, shoes pressed to your ear.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The two of you stayed in place, absorbing what had happened (you had just hurled your phone at him with all your might). However, move you’d have to, so eventually, Jaemin picked up your phone from the floor before standing up and wiped it on his shirt and walked to you. 

You looked at him wide eyed, not moving. Fuck, this was the final straw. Because the dream started coming back to you in bits and pieces and you remembered that you thought you were losing your mind. 

But this was too much. You felt too present, unlike the last time. This had to be real. Your handle on reality was much too strong. You couldn’t be losing your mind.

The thought was as relieving as it was confusing.

When you still didn’t move, Jaemin walked up to you and carefully took the shoes you were holding to your ear out of your hand and set them down. Before he could say anything, his head whipped around to the kitchen.

“Shit,” he mumbled under his breath as he presumably remembered what he had on the stovetop. “Give me a moment,” he said and he rushed to stir and flip whatever had been cooking. And all you could do was watch in amazement. 

When he had everything in order, he wiped his hands on the towel and walked to you again. He took your arm and led you into the kitchen, sitting you down on the stool. 

“I made you breakfast,” he explained as he began to lay out an impressive spread in front of you. You looked down and wondered if he had been cooking all morning. Because he had thought of everything. All your favorites and all the things he’d insist you eat for your health and all the things you had tried together. But how could you eat?

“I don’t understand…” you stated in a weak voice as he laid out your utensils in front of you.

He looked up from across the counter and sighed as he smiled, “I don’t understand, either.”

And while your mind was blank and running a thousand miles an hour at the same time, you decided to start simple, “You’re... here?”

“I am. I’m here,” he confirmed, not looking away from your eyes.

“But… but you said it went away… the force. How… how did you know?” your voice is so small because you feel so confused and so helpless. How many times could a heart be played with before it decided it has had enough?

“I don’t know, Y/N… I just felt it,” he moved around the counter to stand in front of you.

“What do you mean you felt it? What was the feeling? How come I didn’t feel it?” you pleaded for answers.

“I don’t know… I just feel it in my body when I’m being taken to you. And I could feel it fading,” he tried to explain.

“Oh…” you supposed it made sense. He was the one who had to do all the teleporting, anyway. Perhaps it would make sense for him to have that feeling. “But how come it came back? How come the… force is back?”

“I don’t know if it came back,” he answered begrudgingly.

“What? Then how did you get here?” you asked, confused. What on God’s good earth was he on about?

“Trains and planes can be niftier than teleportations, you know.” he took your hand then and held it in both of his and looked at it like he was savoring the moment.

Trains and planes. 

Trains and fucking planes.

How simply he put it. Like it was normal to sit on a plane and make your way to a girl you had met through magic. Like it was the most obvious thing in the world to stop relying on a magical force and teleportations and just sit on a… train (or plane) to see your girlfriend (ex-girlfriend?).  

You had so many questions that you didn’t know how to prioritize them. You asked one, anyway, “But… you forgot me… how could you take a plane for me if you forgot me…” 

“Because you came to me,” he looked up into your eyes.

“Huh?”

“You came to me and it all came back,” he smiled at you.

“I… came to you?” someday, someone was going to have to stop speaking to you in riddles and explain in simple terms what it was that had happened in your life. 

“The video call,” he reminds you as if he heard your mind.

“Oh…” you looked away to think back, as if doing so would put the pieces together (they didn’t). “But you didn’t remember me even then…”

“Yeah, I know. But I don’t know. Maybe it was seeing your face again that triggered something. Because I got off the call and I couldn’t shake off this feeling the entire time. I couldn’t stop feeling like something was missing. Then I looked for this…” he hooked his index around the necklace sitting pretty on you and gently tugged, “... and it all came back.”

You thought for a moment. Had the two of you found some sort of a hack? Had the two of you crossed over too much memorabilia from one world to another that it broke the system? How did any of it make sense?

“But I figured out something else as well…” he began.

“What?”

“Your world and mine are the same.”

“Huh?” of course they were the same. What did he mean?

“Our worlds are the same. You just live where you live and I live where I live,” he explained and it made you want to smack him, though you’re sure that was not the mood of the moment.

“Of course they are the same. How else would I watch your videos or attend your fan call?” you tried to keep your voice patient.

“I mean, it’s the same world, and we exist at the same time, like normal people in the normal world, separated by land or sea. We might lose the magic and I might lose the teleportations. But Y/N. I am never going to lose you again,” he grabbed your hand and pulled you into him and you had to brace yourself with a palm to his chest so you wouldn’t fall off the stool (probably what he wanted).

“You mean we can be a normal, um… long-distance couple?” you offered, trying to create some rhyme or reason to this madness.

“Except we might not always need trains or planes or anything. I’ll just teleport to you every time I want to see you,” he nodded happily.

“But you said you can’t control it, Jaemin. You said you don’t know if it’s back,” you reminded him before your heart could hold too much hope.

“I did. But this wasn’t supposed to happen. I wasn’t supposed to remember you or see you ever again. But I did. And I know we’ll figure it out,” Jaemin squeezed your hand, like he was urging you to believe it.

“But we would still never know when we see each other or for how long. That part is never going to change,” you tried to reason.

“We might or we might not. We’ll have to try. I know I’ve had moments where I could feel you calling for me and then there I’d be next to you. There would be moments where I’d want something so badly, and then you’d be the one providing it to me. But, Y/N, even if the magic goes away and the force goes away… we have like… cell phones and stuff…” Jaemin added the last bit sheepishly.

Cell phones. 

You stop a bit because of how fucking weird that sounded. The two of you were bound together by magic. By a mystery you could never figure out. By a force that would teleport this man in space and time. By the SYNK or the FLAT or whatever the fuck it was called.

“Yeah… I guess technology is better than any kind of magic, huh?” you said because this was the strangest feeling in the world. This was a moment in time where the two of you were speaking something you had shied away from since the day you had met each other. That you could exist together in the real world. The kind of world that had no magic, just… cell phones.

Your hands held onto his shoulders, though you looked away in thought, as if to absorb this strange information. 

“Um… so you… you came here by, like… regular transportation,” you repeated, feeling a strangeness that made you feel dumb.

“I did,” he grinned and nodded. “Although, I did try something last night.”

“What… what did you try?” 

“I’d forgotten to pack my socks. So I tried thinking of the spot I had left them back at home,” he told you.

“And? Did it work?” you asked curiously.

He looked down and wiggled his toes, “Well, I went back to get my socks and came back in record time, so it must have worked.”

“So… that travel fare… that was a bad idea?”

At that, Jaemin laughed out loud and held you in a hug. “Nope. It brought me to you, so how could it be?”

“Wow,” you exhaled into his chest.

You had no idea what anything was anymore. You had no idea what to do when there we so many crossovers between reality and fantasy, truth and falsehood, analog and digital, thoughts and action, teleportations and human means of fucking transport.

But here you were. And here he was. He remembered you and you remembered him. He was human and so were you. This was your world, but this was his world as well. What separated you wasn’t magic, or any type of force. Just a few miles that could be travelled. The same way any sort of miles separate any sort of humans that live far away from one another but are connected by a bond of family or friendship or love. 

Trains, planes, cell phones, long-distance. How rudimentary these words sounded. How fucking ordinary. How normal, how regular. You loved them. You loved every bit of the simple, ordinary, everyday, fucking unmagical aspect of them.

So, your normal boyfriend held your hand and sat next to you. He piled your plate with all the breakfast he had prepared for you and fed it to you. When you were done, he did your normal dishes while you sorted your normal laundry and you wondered what more normal things you could get up to now that time or force or magic weren’t enemies, but allies. How the two of you had managed to make it happen, you didn’t know. Perhaps, neither of you would ever know.

But if magic was real and comfort characters existed, maybe the two of you did break the system. You added too many variables, did too much with it you weren’t supposed to. You existed and loved and yearned together and tricked the force. 

Because there was something the force hadn’t realized. 

That in this curious scenario for two, Jaemin wasn’t the comfort character. He had never been the comfort character. 

It was always you.

14.

“It’s not even time yet, you know?” you said as you answered your boyfriend’s video call.

“I know but I wanted to call in before time so I could count it down as it happens,” he grinned proudly. Even on the grainy video call, he looked handsome as ever.

“Are you home?” you asked as you smiled at him fondly.

“Mhmm. I just got done with my schedule, so this is perfect timing,” he said in his chirpy tone.

“No wonder you’re on an energy high,” you sniggered.

“Hey, I’m on an energy high because of you.”

“Touché.”

“Okay, okay, it’s time!” he sat up, excited and giddy.

“Oh God, Jaemin. Just please don’t do anything embarrassing,” you covered your face with your free hand, but it only made him giddier and his smile wider and you knew you were in for something wonderfully cringey. 

“10… 9… 8…” he began to count.

“If you try to act cute, so help me, God…” you warned.

“7… 6… 5… 4…” he counted down animatedly, and no warning of yours was souring his mood.

“3… 2…” he counted and suddenly, his screen froze. You saw his grin imprinted onto the screen unmoving before the call cut off. Of course. No amount of careful planning could duel with the SM WiFi. You shook your head and smiled, getting up off your bed.

“... 1,” you suddenly heard behind you. Jaemin took your shoulders and spun you around to face him. “Happy birthday!” he grinned and pulled you into a kiss. He kept kissing you like a brat though you pushed against his chest to pry him off of you. But as far as embarrassing things went, this was good. This was bearable (lol you thought).

Jaemin pulls away, his silly, pleased grin still on his face. “Okay, now for the birthday song sung in the cutest voice in the world!” he announced but you covered your ears.

“Jaemin, I swear to God, if you even try, I’m--”

“--awww, why, but I wanna sing to the birthday girl,” he cooed in his stupid voice and cupped your cheeks to make them puff up.

“I swear, I am literally going to…” you trailed off, warning him with your eyes.

He laughed happily, way too pleased with the reaction he received but then thought it better for his life and health to back off. “Okay, then. No birthday song.”

“No birthday song,” you confirmed, tapping his chest with your palm.

“Fine,” he puffed, “But if not birthday song, how about birthday sex?” he offered.

“Birthday sex sounds… better.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” he said before he looped his arms around your waist and pulled you in so you’d fall on top of him on your bed. You yelped loudly till you both laughed and kissed and loved.

You shared so much happiness and so much life and so much normalcy that it gave you both lots of hope for the future. The magic might end or it might not. The force could forsake you or it could not. But you didn’t need it anymore. All you were ever going to need was one another. And that was enough.

- THE END -

Copyright © 2021 NeoCultureTravesty. All rights reserved.

[nemeseos-noctua]

Here's the other: How'd they react to their S/O who cherishes their gift given by their beloved so much, that one day the gift was destroyed by a hilichurl and they went so livid they practically fought the creatures to death and threw them to a lake somewhere, and sulked the whole how they don't deserve them anymore cuz of how careless they were. For Razor, Albedo and Xiao 👉👈

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: razor, albedo, xiao (separate) x gn!reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: not proofread, mc is referenced as an alchemist/adventurer in albedo’s, one swear word in xiao’s

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: im EMBARRASSED at how long this is and how MEANINGLESS THE WRITING IS IM SO SORRY 

he made you a paw-shaped clay sculpture!

it was cute and small, fitting right into the palm of your hands

to others—it may look like some worn-down toy, but to you, it was a good luck charm from the ever-cute razor

but perhaps, it wasn’t quite the clay-shape that you held close to your heart... no, it was the strenuous effort razor put into sculpting the paw

you remember it vividly. how the boy would dig his hands into mud and sit under the burning sun, carving the dirt with his bare fingers as he hid the gift from your sight

so when a good-for-nothing hilichurl decides razor’s paw-shape charm was a nice pebble for hot potato... boy were you livid

Patting the ground beside you, [e/c] eyes widened upon the feeling of nothing but grass.

What...? Peering over, you stared blankly at the empty space, comical arrows pointing at the now-gone charm you had received from Razor. Just where was it? You swore it was right beside you...

And as if Barbatos were laughing at you, the wind blew, burning your eyes as the sight of mitachurls and hilichurls danced around the fire in the distance, tossing what looked like a rock into the air.

Ah. 

You blinked.

That was the charm Razor made.

first of all... how did the hilichurl get it? the charm was literally right beside you!

agh, whatever.

you’ll just retrieve it. easy, right?

no.

first of all, your power would literally turn the lush grass into a desolate canyon (not really). second of all, you’d probably end up destroying the paw in your rampage

hah...

—if the hilichurl didn’t destroy it first

Materializing your weapon, you couldn’t help but hope that the paw had miraculously survived the impact of a hilichurl throwing it against the floor.

Hah, what were you thinking? Of course it didn’t... physics just didn’t allow it.

But you know what physics did allow? Why, beating these enemies to a pulp, of course!

once you floored the hilichurls, you quickly scrambled as to look for signs of the paw anywhere

berating yourself as to how utterly foolish you were for letting it go and leaving it unguarded in the first place, you stared in defeat at the sight of crumbled clay and hardened dirt in the grass of the hilichurl camp

why? why were you so careless? seriously, how did this happen? if you had just kept it in your backpack like a regular person, razor’s hard-earned hours and craft would still be as grand as ever-

“[y/n]?”

Blinking, you hadn’t realized you had been sulking in the midst of this hilichurl camp. [E/C] eyes lifted up, widening once they had landed on none other than Razor, his crimson eyes like the agates that littered Dragonspine, his hair as grey as stormclouds.

“Ah... Razor...” You smiled in exasperation, staring at anywhere but said boy. How could you face him after watching his clay paw get destroyed by some measly hilichurls?

“Are you okay?” He asked, glancing around at the scene before him. The grass wilted, the camp that he remembered being obnoxiously loud and disturbing was silent and empty.

“Yeah, no biggie,” Waving off his concern, you began to walk away, your heart sinking with each step.

First, you let his gift get destroyed. Second, you walk away from him.

You were such a terrible partn—

“[Y/N]?” Razor’s voice cut through the air, a tension you had created solely on the thoughts of your own mind. Gripping your wrist with a tender touch, you didn’t fail to notice the way his eyes drooped down ever so slightly.

“Did I... make lupical mad?”

Gulping, you quickly waved your hands in front of your face, eyes widened as you tried to carefully explain the series of events that had just led down to this very moment.

“I—well, you see, your uh, paw-clay-thingy... I was careless and I—“

“Break it while hunting?” Razor answered, tilting his head as his hold merely stayed still, not wavering for a second, as if you were a boar in his hands.

“Ah...” 

Razor was much better at observation than you had thought.

“It’s okay. I make more for lupical,” Razor nodded, already beginning to pace over to a pond as he dipped his gloved hands into the water, wafting around for dirt as you rushed up behind him.

“Wait! But I was careless... you don’t need to make ano—“

“It’s for lupical. Lupical close, I give lupical gift that never break.”

Everlasting—that was what he wanted to make.

And a part of you couldn’t help but agree.

albedo, in all of his alchemy prowess, made you an artificial flower

how? don’t ask him. he’ll spew some lengthy thesis and paragraph about the fundamentals, the research, the prototype, the testing, the—

ahem, anyways!

you had never intended to bring it outside. but one day, you had left your camp under the supervision of barbatos (wow go barbatos) and ventured off to fetch some materials

and when you came back? you were met with the sight of hilichurls and slimes raving around your tent

what the—

“I...I’m hallucinating,” You deadpanned, slapping your wrist at the sight of pyro slimes and masked hilichurls dancing around your tent, the inside of your humble abode moving around as if it were possessed.

And the cherry on top? A pyro abyss mage emerged, the flower floating besides it. But oh boy, it was no flower anymore... it was a flaming flower.

At that moment, you were left to ponder. Maybe, just maybe, you kinned a whopperflower at that point. Because oh boy did your temper and sanity explode on those little enemies, the way your blade sunk into their forms—

you were already planning your apology to albedo. he trusted you and loved you enough to make an artificial flower for you... and yet, it so pitifully crumbled at your touch

okay, not quite your touch. but it crumbled at the ugly pyro abyss mage’s touch

so, as any good s/o would do, you sulked while rebuilding your camp. it’s okay. as long as albedo didn’t know his creation was charred, all would be well. besides! he was quite a busy man! chances were low that he’d discover!

busy, he was, observant, he is

perhaps, you should’ve known

“Ah... hi Albedo,” You winced, opening your tent to smile at the alchemist who merely stared at you.

“You were gone for a while. Is everything okay?” He noted, remembering your absence from visiting his own camp at Dragonspine. As an alchemist, he knew what it was like being holed up in a camp. But for two weeks? Even he needed breaks.

“Well, you see... I was out... gathering materials! Yes!” You gave him a weak thumbs-up, wailing internally once his piercing azure eyes trailed around your camp, noting that nothing looked new. 

 “You don’t need to lie to me, [Y/N]. Is something the matter?”

“I’m sorry!” You cut off, clapping your hands together in a prayer-like position, guilt welling up in the pit of your stomach.

“...Why?”

“Your flower—I left it unsupervised and it was set aflame and I’m so so so sor—“

“Don’t be.”

Mouth dropping, you stared up at the male, an amused expression painting his face like the canvases he dedicated to you.

“At least you were not hurt while it was set aflame. Come, I’ll show you how to make some more,” Opening your tent for you all the way, Albedo held a hand out to you, eyes flickering in mirth.

“And next time, don’t try to run away from your problems.”

“You cheeky littl—“ A blush of both embarrassment and fluster formed on your face, shocked at his sudden remark.

he made you an adepti amulet

enhanced with super-cool-adepti-no-mortal-can-have power, xiao had informed you that all you needed to do was hold up the amulet and it’d scare any kind of enemies away!

cool, right? too bad you left it unattended while fighting the irritable anemo cube! now it’s at the bottom of the sea <3

how did this happen, exactly? well... you see... when wind picks up and becomes strong... light-weight objects will fly up into the air!

and sometimes, those light weight objects will fall into the sea, and sometimes, those objects would be gifts from your adeptus boyfriend who was waiting for you back at wangshu inn—

ahem. anyways. you beat the crap out of the anemo cube (aka, beth. aka, tornado cube. aka, cube waifu)

I should just... not go back to Wangshu Inn today. Haha... I’ll go ask Katheryne for a commission... You nodded, stuffing the turquoise shards of wind into your pockets, your bags filled with mora and enhancement ores being thrown off the side of the cliff.

—Along with the adepti amulet Xiao had made for you.

Seriously... you still had to wonder just how that happened! One second, you were avoiding getting sucked up by the vent of the anemo cube... and the next, your bag was traveling the world!

Can’t have shit in Teyva—

Trekking back to Mondstadt in defeat, you were innocently oblivious to the worry of the Yaksha back in Liyue.

are they okay? do they need help? did they go to dragonspine? all these questions spun around xiao’s head as he watched the moon rise, his mask dissipating into the wind

you told him you’d return tonight... yet you hadn’t. and a part of him had wished you hadn’t left liyue, so he had at least some control over whatever dangers dared to attack you

but, he knew you were strong. why else would he love you, anyway? he does not find appeal in being the savior 24/7

so, he waits. atop the balcony of wangshu inn, across the stars and moon, he prays to his archon, wishing—no, hoping you arrive safely

And—you did. You arrived back at Wangshu Inn.

... Three weeks later.

“You’re late. Very late,” Xiao’s voice blared in your ears, a blessing and a curse all at the same time. You didn’t know how to tell him the amulet was thrown off a cliff—but at the same time, you really wanted to run your fingers through his hair.

“Haha... sorry about that,” You laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of your head as Xiao merely grumbled, appearing before you with a piercing stare.

“Where were you? You did not even send me a letter.”

“I’m sorry... it’s just... eh... well...” You looked away, your heart churning against your ribs as Xiao extended his index finger out, tilting your chin to face him.

“What?” He asked, his tone harsh yet soft, longing yet logical.

“I uh... kind of... lost your adepti amulet... I’m sorry.”

He blinked.

“You waited three weeks to tell me that?” He asked in disbelief, almost in disappointment. Seriously, he was an adeptus! A Yaksha, at that! He could’ve just made another one for you... But nooo... you decided to wait three weeks in the land of the free (America?) and then worry him to death.

“Mortals...” Xiao muttered under his breath, crossing his arms with a huff as he turned his head away, the wind picking up.

“Hey, wait! Aren’t you going to say anything? Like a disappointed lecture or something?”

“No.”

Disappearing, you facepalmed, already pulling out some sweetflowers and milk to whip up some almond tofu.

Damn that adeptus. Who was he to tug your heartstrings like that?

You sighed, sitting beside a cooking pot as lingering yellow eyes watched your form, their irises softening at the sight.

— constellations! 💫

[lottiebagleywritesobx]

Girls like you

THE POOL

JJ Maybank wasn't really sure why the Y/L/N family had hired him to clean out their pool when summer started. They seemed to like him around the hotel when they went for meals but he wasn't exactly qualified, he wasn't complaining though, they tip well and it couldn't be that hard.

His only problem was Y/N.

They never got on well. She was friends with Kie in her kook year, who even went as far as to dub her 'the only kook who doesn't make me want to gauge my eyes out', so she knew the pogues from around although they'd grown apart the girls shared no bad blood and always stopped to catch up when they saw each other around.

He was in the middle of raking the leaves from the large pool when he saw her. She was crossing the garden from the large mansion, clad in a bikini with sunglasses perched on the end of her nose. JJ hates how good she looks, her curves perfectly on display and a confident aura around her.

She's got headphones in, he notices as she saunters closer.

"Hi princess," He smirks, watching as she rolls her eyes

"I'm not your princess. How long are you gonna be?" She questions, settling onto one of the sun loungers next to the pool

"An hour or so," JJ states

"Well, could you do it quietly I'm hungover and I wanna just relax," She states, slipping the second headphone back into her ear before he can reply.

He cleans, unaware of her watching him from behind the glasses as she sips on her bottle of cold water. She would never tell anyone but watching him work, his muscles tensing and untensing under his vest shirt, a light sweat from the hot summer day on his skin, she couldn't help herself from thinking he looked good.

He would definitely admit to John B that he thought she looked fit. Her breasts spilling out of her bikini top a little and the barely there thong bottom's high cut making her legs look excruciatingly long. He'd probably make some crude jokes about hate sex being way more fun. He wouldn't admit though, to finding something very comforting about her presence, and finding the way she hummed along to whatever she was listening too adorable.

It's a further 40 minutes, JJ is trying to work out how to get the pool vaccuum to turn on, when her phone rings loudly.

"Hey Sare," Her voice speaks. JJ figures quickly it's Sarah Cameron, the pair are practically inseparable and the whole island knows it.

He half listens to her side of the conversation, more out of boredom than interest.

"No, babes, I love you and all but I really don't wanna. The last million times I've seen Rafe he's been so weird and creepy and I don't wanna be alone with him,"

JJ doesn't know why the comment angers him so much. Why does he even care if Rafe is clearly trying to pull her? It's none of his business. Yet, he can feel his blood boiling at the thought.

"No Sar, if I go and you have to stay with me then you can't go and be with Topper,"

She's silent for a few minutes before sighing "Fine. Fine, I'll come. See you in a minute. Bring me some shorts, I'm in the garden and can't be arsed to go upstairs and find some. You owe me forever,"

JJ wants to scream. Wants to tell her she shouldn't go if she feels uncomfortable around Kelce. He wishes Kie were here, maybe she could talk her into staying where she felt safe.  Maybe she would be able to explain why JJ even gives a shit.

"Maybank," She states, he looks up, trying to act like he hasn't been listening. "I'm going out. You'll be the only one here," She informs

"Okay," He nods.

"My keys are on the kitchen counter, lock up when you're done and I'll just grab them from you at the hotel,"

"All right," He agrees

"When will you be there?" She questions, looking at him like he's an idiot. He groans internally, obviously she needed to know that.

"Tomorrow, 2 until closing,"

'"I'll swing by around 4," She informs. He nods, trying not to stare at her as she lets her hair down from the ponytail it had been in, shaking it out. A car honks outside and she turns, walking up the garden towards the side gates, turning a few metres away,

"Oh, there's an envelope on the kitchen counter with your tip in," She adds

"Thanks. Goodbye princess," He smiles,

"Still not your princess," she shouts back, turning and disappearing round the corner.

THE CAR

JJ felt a lot more in his element when her dad had called him asking if he could fix her car. He hadn't specified it was his eldest daughters, and JJ knew the family owned 7 cards despite only 3 of them even being able to drive.

JJ recognised it though, a white convertible porsche, he'd seen her driving it around before. Wether she was blasting music with the roof down singing with Sarah, picking up a take out from the wreck, driving around in the middle of the night, she'd even given Kie a lift to the Chateau before. He realised that he always seemed to notice her presence.

He was working in the family's garage, the bonnet popped open and grease all over him. It was an easy fix, if a little fiddly.

He jumped out of his skin when the door burst open.  He is immediately taken aback by how good she looks. Clad in a tight black skirt that is ridiculously short, heels and a tight black V neck top with a lace trim around the neck. Her hair falls in bouncy curls around her shoulders and her makeup looks perfect. He would have sworn on everything he'd never seen anyone look so beautiful.

"You're a boy," The girl states.

"Good job noticing that one princess," JJ smirks, she rolls her eyes.

"I have a date and Sarah is being so unhelpful, can you help me pick a top?" She questions, he gulps, nodding.

"Okay, so this is option 1,"

"It looks good,"

"Right. But is it sexy? Do you look at me and think I wanna slam her against a wall and rail her?"

His eyes widen a little, that's one way of putting it he decides.

"Look, I'm your families help, I shouldn't be answering that,"

"Like I care Maybank," She groans, exasperated.

"Okay fine, I look at you in that and I think I wanna rip your clothes off,"

"Okay good. Option 2," She starts. JJ is shocked when she pulls her top off in front of him, without even turning around. He turns around, although not without taking a mental picture of her boobs being pushed up in a red lace bra. "Who knew you were a prude?"

"Just respecting you princess," He comments

"You've seen me in a bikini, what's the difference?" She questions, he stays silent having no quick comment to respond with. "I'm dressed," She states

He turns back around, she looks good, a forest green top made of satin.

"The first one is sexy, that one is cute,"

"Thanks JJ, oh, and hey, thanks for fixing my car,"

"Uh. Yeah, anytime,"

THE SUMMER HOUSE

JJ was happy to paint the summer house. He claimed to his friends it was just because they way over paid and tipped big. In reality it was because for three days straight he would get to catch glimpses of her. And he did.

He saw her when she swam in her pool.

He saw her when she played in the garden with her little sister.

He saw her when she cloud gazed with Sarah Cameron.

The best times he got to see her though, were when she would bring him stuff. Every so often she'd knock on the open door to the summer house, sometimes with water, sometimes with snacks, a few times even with a beer. A couple of times she stopped and made small talk, one time she even smeared paint on his cheek and giggled as he chased her through the garden.

He enters the kitchen, used to how the family worked now. An envelope of money waiting on the kitchen counter, they always seemed to be coming and going so it was easier.

He was shocked to see her in the kitchen, she's scrolling on her phone sipping on what looks to be an iced coffee

"Oh, hey JJ," She smiles

"Hey, I'm done," he informs, she nods, watching as he picks up the envelope "So, I'll be seeing you around,"

"Did you want a lift?" She questions, he looks at her slightly confused "I just noticed your bike wasn't here and it's kinda late to be walking back. It's a long walk,"

"You really don't have to princess,"

"Honestly, it's fine," she assures, jumping up and grabbing her keys before heading towards the garage.

She wasn't sure when she stopped hating JJ Maybank, wasn't sure when she started noticing little things like the blue in his eyes and which snapback he was wearing and how tired he looked. She wasn't sure when the sight of his bike in the driveway started giving her butterflies.

"So where is your bike?" She questions, the roof of the car is down and the wind blowing through her hair as she pulls out of the private estate her home is on.

"Didn't have enough fuel to get to yours and back," He shrugs

"Why didn't you just-" She cuts herself off "Shit, I'm so sorry. That was insanely rude, I wasn't even thinking and-" He chuckles, watching as she splutters and blushes

"It's okay. Life is different on the cut I can understand how a kook princess wouldn't get it," He shrugs, she nods, still not sure what to say.

"Y'know my life isn't perfect," She comments, he scoffs, unable to help himself. "I'm not kidding. It's privileged as fuck, I know that, but it's not perfect,"

"Go on then princess, what's so shit?" He doesn't mean for it to sound so harsh, he's genuinely curious

"My parents, they have basically planned my entire life, down to where I'll go to college, what sorority I'll be in, where I'll work my summer internship, who I'll marry, where I'll get married, which big kook house I'll live in,  at what age I'll have to give up my career, which has been decided for me by them, to start trying for babies. It's 24 by the way so in 8 years. My whole life is decided and I don't want it. I wanna go on a trip around the world and surf and travel and explore. I wanna fall in love and get my heartbroken again and again until I find the right guy. I wanna live in a New York apartment and I wanna see the world. I don't wanna marry Rafe Cameron just cause our mothers are friends. I mean he's literally scary and harasses me and acts like even though I'm 16 I shouldn't have a choice cause one day he'll father my kids. And no one gets it, none of my friends, not even my best friend. The only person who ever understood why it was so shit was Kie and then she left, she left and lives her life and it's fun and exciting and anything could happen. I don't hate her for it but it fucking sucks that she left me miserable. I'll be miserable living my planned out life and then I'll die. Yeah, I have money and that's fucking great, but my life is far from perfect,"

JJ sits in a stunned silence. He's not really sure what to say. Their problems were very different but hers were just as shitty. He feels like he's seeing her in a whole new light.

"Sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I don't tell people that and we barely no each other," She mutters, not wanting to look at him

"Where would you go first?" His question surprised her

"On my fictitious surf trip?" She questions, he nods "Europe, Spain I think,"

They sit in silence the rest of the way, it's not awkward though, both of them feel comforted by each other presence. He gives her instructions to the chateau.

"We are probably gonna drink some beers and smoke. You wanna stay? You could crash here and drive home in the morning," JJ offers

"I can't. My family are having dinner at the hotel. Thanks though," She smiles gently

"Yeah. Uh, I hope it's not too shit. Thanks for the ride princess,"

He climbs out of the car, his friends who sit on the porch immediately calling out to him, they're all laughing and teasing him about his lift home and when he looks back he almost thinks he sees a look of longing in her eyes before she's reversing out of the chateau.

THE BOAT

"Can you fix it?" She questions. JJ Maybank has never seen her look nervous before.

It was only 6:30 AM when she'd started banging on the door to the Chateau, tears in her eyes and panic on her face hoping JJ would be here. John B had pulled the door open, half asleep and groaning a little at the bright sunlight. He'd let her into the small home and disappeared to wake JJ up. John B opted not to put too much thought into the way the minute her name was said JJ leaped out of bed and shoved into the living area, the way his hands cupped her cheeks to see if she was okay, the way he was calling her princess as he tried to calm down her hiccuping tears.

"I can fix it," He confirms. They're standing on the deck of her families boat "It's an easy fix princess, okay? don't even worry," He speaks in a comforting tone

"Thank you JJ,"

"No worries. It'll take me a while, you got anywhere to be?"

"No. Well yes, a breakfast thing with the Cameron's but it's at my house and I can't exactly show up without the boat so,"

"So you're hiding out here all day?" JJ questions

"Well, I don't wanna intrude. I can go and hang out at the beach,"

"Don't talk nonsense, you can hang here. C'mon, I need to be down the bottom with the engine, you can sit and entertain me,"

She watches intently as he works, now that he's not working at her house he hasn't bothered with a shirt, instead just wearing shorts and his infamous red baseball cap. He glances at her occasionally, her makeup streaky from crying and wearing a short white dress.

"So, wanna tell me what happened?" He questions

"Not really," She admits, he nods and she sighs before beginning to explain"Rafe wanted to go boating late and then it all went wrong and then we got the boat to the nearest dock, hence why we are in the middle of nowhere, and he said he was going to call someone to get a lift and it was rainy so I was waiting in here.  It had been a while so I went outside to check on him and he was gone. I didn't know what to do. Dad would kill me for breaking the boat, do I just kinda figured I'd walk to yours and hopefully you would no how to fix it. Then I realised I have no clue where you live so I walked to John B's and hoped for the best,"

"He just left you in the middle of nowhere alone?" JJ doesn't know why he's so mad, they were hardly even friends

"Yeah. He texted me to let me know it was cause he's already in shit with his dad and didn't wanna go down for breaking my family's boat," She shrugs, JJ wants to go and find Rafe Cameron and beat his skull in.

"Look, a girl like you deserves someone who would treat them a million times better than that,"

"I always thought you hated me," She admits

"So did I, until this summer I kinda did," He shrugs

"What changed?" She asks, the question is so vulnerable he can't help himself from looking at her

"You aren't what I thought you'd be," He admits, she nods slowly

"How should a girl like me be treated?" She questions

"Like they're the only thing on earth," He's not really sure why he's so openly telling her how he feels but it feels too late now

"Is that how you'd treat me Maybank?"

"Girls like you don't date boys like me," He shrugs, turning quickly back to what he's doing, not wanting her to recognise the disappointment on his face.

THE PARTY

It was no secret her family hosted a big formal party on the 10th of July every year, her parents wedding anniversary. JJ had waited the party the last 2 years and this summer was no different, he'd even managed to get John B and Pope a job too.

His heart had stopped when he saw her, her dress was the exact shade of blue as the sky and flowed beautifully down to her feet, her hair curled with the front pinned back, her makeup beautiful. She looked like an angel approaching him and god why did she have to look so perfect.

"Hey JJ," She smiles, grabbing a glass of champagne from the tray he's holding "Could you do me a favour?"

"Of course," He agrees, expecting some job that needed doing for the party

"If you see Rafe and I'm on my own..." She trails off "I'm trying to avoid him, after the other day,"

It's three hours into the party when JJ grabs her hand, pulling her along behind him and away from Rafe who is clearly trying to catch her alone. He pulls her into a small cupboard slamming the door closed behind him and locking it.

"What was that about?"

"Rafe," He shrugs, he didn't outwardly say he'd been watching her all night to make sure he could look out for her. He also didn't say he would have been watching her all night even if she hadn't asked him too.

"JJ, you know how your coming over next week to fix that one  door that you can't open from inside the cupboard?" She question

"Yeah," He states, peering out of the key hole to see if Rafe is still looking for her

"Well, this is the cupboard,"

"Shit!" He shouts, pulling away from the door to face her. "Shit, it's your parents wedding anniversary and I got you locked in the cupboard,"

"It's alright," She shrugs "They hate each other most the time anyway,"

"Call someone to let you out,"

"Where on this dress did you think there was pockets, you call someone,"

"My phone is in the twinkie,"

"The what?"

"John B's car," JJ sighs. "Fuck princess, I'm so sorry," He groans

"It's fine. Sarah will come looking for me eventually," She shrugs. He nods, watching as she sits down on the ground, patting the space next to her.

He obliges, sitting next to her, knees touching in the tight space.

"You look nice tonight, I like the shirt and tie," She compliments, he can feel himself blush and is glad the cupboard is dark enough she probably can't see it.

"Y'know what you said on the boat the other day?" She questions, he immediately knows what she's referring too "About how girls like me don't date boys like you,"

"Yeah," He confirms

"Why is that?" She questions quietly

"I couldn't make you happy princess. Your parents would hate me. I couldn't take you on the fancy dates you're used to. You wouldn't be happy,"

"My parents love you, they think you're resourceful and hard working. I hate the stuffy dates figure 8 boys take me on," She informs, he laughs a little at that. "Besides, you already make me happy. I'm just saying Maybank, if you don't wanna date me just say it, don't try and put it on me,"

JJ isn't really sure how to react. How to explain he desperately wanted to date her, wanted her to be his girl and wanted to shower her in love and adoration. He isn't sure how to tell her that by inadvertently telling him she wanted to date him she had made him the happiest man on earth. He's not really great with words and it all feels too hard to say.

So, instead, he turns slightly, taking her face in his hands and pulling her to him, his lips crashing against hers and somehow she knows everything he wanted to say.

[equizona]

Note: Since my ask box is empty, I decided to write this idea. I thought it would be an interesting approach. If you guys would like to see the dateables then tell me! (ALSO MY ASK BOX IS OPEN!)

Scenario: Obey Me! where the MC is a character in an otome game.

Fandom(s): Obey Me!

Character(s): Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor,

Warning(s): Light angst?

Lucifer[Avatar of Pride]

He probably just passed by Leviathan when he was playing the game, and your design caught his attention.

He refuses to let ANYONE know he plays the game, and his fondness of a fictional character will be taken to his grave.

He has ALL of your cards, no exceptions on the rule, and he's quite proud about it.

He probably has your set outfit be a more formal one? If there is a card where you're dressed in more formal setting that would probably be his favorite too.

Acts like he has no idea who you are whenever any of his brothers talk about you.

Surprisingly, none of his brothers know that he plays the game. Satan is a tiny bit suspicious because of his detective skills, but nothing is confirmed.

He's rich as shit so he has no problem using real money on special items for you, and if there's any items that give special dialog he WILL get his hands on it no matter what it takes, trust me.

Won't be able to answer any calls he gets from you all the time, but whenever he does he'll just relax to the sound if your voice.

Will give donations to whoever is your voice actor don't testhim—

Mammon[Avatar of Greed]

He likes to pretend that he isn't your fan but everyone can see right through him–

Will never miss any of your phone calls, they are the light of his life, like, seriously.

Will use actual money to get you the items, he just wants you to be happy.

Whenever you give him an item he goes over the moon, giving his phone this super cute giddy smile.

Whenever he gets an action during the surprise guests wrong he wants to cry, he doesn't want you to get angry at him.

Will get lots of items that are themed around you, and will probably grab anything he sees that holds even the slightest resemblance to you.

If you have a theme song then it is 100% his ringtone, no that is not up for debate.

Whenever he gets sad he'll play a phone call and just listen to your voice.

Leviathan[Avatar of Envy]

Ah yes, the king of being a fictional character simp.

He's the one who found the game, which set in motion the action of everyone adoring you.

You think he likes the lord of shadows? Henry? Ruri-chan? If so, then I don't want to tell you how bad he's got it for you.

He has ALL of your cards, haste highest level of your intimacy, knows all of your dialog by heart by now.

He has all merch that is even remotely related to you, and your theme song would also be his ringtone and alarm.

He cosplays you for sure.

Has a body pillow that he would bring to prom no questions asked.

Is your number 1 fan, and he gets involved with anything that is involved with you.

Will not stands any slander on your name and has only positive things to say about you.

Sometimes gets super sad that you aren't real but he'll get over it the next time he gets a phone call from you.

Satan[Avatar of Wrath]

Honestly he was not ready to end up liking a dating game so much, but here he is.

He'll just kind of have you on the screen on his phone while he reads aloud wishing that you were real–

Whenever he gets upset or angry he'll take his phone out and see if there's anything related to you that he can do to calm down.

Really likes playing the events and is always super excited to see what the next one will be about.

Get's super angry each time someone other than you is a surprise guest, it just really passes him off for some reason?

Will suck up every single detail about yourself that is given to him, he knows your character better than the writers do at this point.

If your character likes books he's even happier!

Has a suspicion that Lucifer knows and likes your character but he can't confirm anything.. yet.

He's getting there don't worry, and he'll be telling you every step on that plan–

Asmodeus[Avatar of Lust]

He doesn't have as much as Leviathan does, but he has have some of your merchandise.

Definitely has a keychain of you on his phone. He isn't embarrassed, he likes your character almost as much as he likes himself!

Because of him the game has a way bigger fandom than it used to do, many wanting to know what got the Asmodeus so hooked.

He defiantly paints his nails themed around you, as well as his make-up. coming up with fun designs on both make-up looks and his nails themed around you is his favorite thing ever.

If he sees any outfit of your character that he really likes he will get it!

Bases some of his outfits on you as well!

Likes to make jewelry and other accessories that would fit your aesthetic too!

Whenever he's doing his beauty routine he'll either be talking about random things to his phone with you and the screen, or he'll be listening to a phone call or a theme song.

Beelzebub[Avatar Gluttony]

Sweet boy probably only downloaded the game when he realized that three of his siblings(Levi, Satan and Asmo, they are the only ones brave enough to show how much they like you) enjoyed the game and he wanted something to talk to them about!

He didn't really know which character his siblings liked but he immediately took a liking to you.

He spends real money to get food for you to eat since he doesn't want you to be hungry.

Listents to your phone-calls while he eats or before a game so that he can hype himself up.

Sometimes likes to play music while he works out and your song is on ALL OF HIS PLAYLISTS–

When he realized that you were his brothers favorite character too, he was super excited, listening to all of Levi's rants about you.

Since Asmo dles everyone's nails he might sometime ask him to make his nails a bit different and theme them around you.

Whenever he can't sleep or has had a nightmare, he'll try and refrain from eating everything in the kitchen and instead opens the app to talk with you.

Belphegor[Avatar of Sloth]

Remembers Leviathan talking about you and the game, and since he was feeling really fucking lonely in the attic he downloaded it and gave it a try.

Your character was a huge comfort to him, especially since he remembered that Beel liked your character as well.

If your character is human it might have helped him calm down from his hatred a tiny bit. Not a lot, but a bit.

Will talk about the stars with you whenever he can, even if he knows you can't actually hear him.

Will listen to your phonecalls or songs whenever he goes to sleep, which is quite often lmao.

He has really good luck and somehow has all of your really rare cards!

He's super smug about that.

He doesn't level a lot of your cards up though, since he's too lazy to actually focus a lot on the story line. He mainly likes your character from what he's seen in chats.

When content with you starts running low he'll just quickly go through some seasons so that he can have comfort from you–

You made him feel a lot less lonely when he was in the attic

[free-pool-trash]

bad behaviour - peter maximoff

Requests: Hi! I just read Utopia and absolutely loved it. Your writing is amazing! I was wondering if you could write something with Peter x Reader where they’re in the sitcom reality and Billy and/or Tommy get in trouble in school so they ask them to pretend to be their parents so Wanda and Vision don’t find out. Or something cute with the twins. Thanks!!!

ahhh this is such a cute idea thank you for the request anon!! 💕💕💕 I hope you like it! Comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

(3 fics in 2 days who even am I at this point? Requests are open lovelies <3)

word count: 1k

warnings: none <3 just some short fluff <3

masterlist

“Oh, Y/n! Thank goodness you’re here!” Wanda sighed out dramatically when you entered her house, a relieved expression found her face as soon as she saw you. “Would you mind helping Pietro pick up the twins from school? I’d let him do it himself but I’m afraid he’ll load them up on sugar again.” She asked exhaustively and you had to giggle, Pietro did have a tendency to get the boys hyper only to dump them on Wanda.

“Course I’ll chaperone. What’re you up to?” You questioned, taking in the disaster that was Wanda’s kitchen. Eggs and flour painted the kitchen counters and the doors of the cabinets.

Wanda let out an airy laugh, “Oh, you know, just some light baking. Dottie asked me to whip something up for the neighbourhood bake sale!”

Slowly, you nodded your head, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing, “Right. Well is Pietro around? We should get going soon.”

“Right here, sweetheart.” Pietro sounded, appearing by your side out of nowhere. You jumped slightly at his sudden appearance, causing the man in question to chuckle happily to himself.

Wanda caught herself smiling at the two of you as you bickered, making your way towards the front door, only pausing to shout a quick, “Good luck with the baking, Wanda!”

When the door shut Pietro leaned close to you whispering, “She doesn’t need luck she needs a damn miracle. That kitchen is a war zone.” You nodded your head in agreement, shoving him away from you with a light giggle.

“Shut up, Pietro. She’s trying her best.” You defended his sister through a laugh.

The silver haired boy groaned, pulling a hand through his hair and fixing you with a half hearted glare, “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Peter?”

The pair of you were walking alongside each other as you shrugged your shoulders, “Your name is Pietro, though.” You stated matter of factly.

“I prefer Peter.” He whined, pouting his lips childishly while bumping his shoulder against yours.

Again, you let out a laugh, “Ok, fine. I’ll call you Peter, you big baby.” You bumped his shoulder right back.

Peter grinned triumphantly, a cocky expression on his face as he threw an arm casually around your shoulder as the two of you continued walking until you reached the school.

Once the pair of you reached the gates you noticed a very disapproving teacher with her hand firmly grasping Billy and Tommy by their shoulder on either side of her. You shared a look of confusion with Peter before making your way towards the boys.

“Mr and Mrs Maximoff, I assume?” The teacher spoke, her gaze scrutinising the arm Peter had around your shoulder, before you could correct the women Peter placed an unnecessarily loving kiss against your cheek and stared at the woman with a proud grin.

“Yep, that’s us! We’re so in love, right babe? Can’t keep her hands off me, how do you think we bagged those two?” He rambled suggestively, gaining a jab in the ribs from you and a disgusted look from the teacher.

Your cheeks were burning and you managed an apologetic smile, “Is there a problem?”

“These two have been having some… behavioural issues.” The elderly woman told you hesitantly and Peter responded with a shocked laugh.

“Our boys? Behaviour issues? I don’t know lady, seems out of character- Ow Y/n!” He yelped when you elbowed him in the ribs, effectively cutting him off.

Finally, the teacher released the twins who walked with their heads hung low into yours and Peter’s waiting arms, Billy tucking himself under your arm and muttering a quiet, “Tommy started it, Y/n.”

With a small sigh you ruffled his hair before returning your attention to the exhausted woman before you with yet another apologetic smile, “I’m terribly sorry about that. They take after their father. I’ll make sure that it doesn’t happen again.” Peter pouted at your statement and the teacher nodded, satisfied with your answer and quickly walked away from the four of you.

“You two have some serious explaining to do.” You muttered, leading them out of the school yard.

“Yeah what’d you two little demons do exactly?” Peter asked accusingly although you could tell he was excited to hear the answer to his question.

Tommy shot into a story about how he was using his powers and Billy was ruining his fun and the teacher ended up getting caught in their crossfire, “It was awesome!” He finished excitedly while Billy grew increasingly nervous at your side.

Peter was busy encouraging Tommy’s bad behavior, finally removing his arm from your shoulder to race the boy in question up and down the sidewalk while you comforted Billy.

“We’re not really mad at you, you know.” You stated, ruffling his brown mop affectionately. At your words Billy stared up at you, doe eyes filled with worry.

“Are you gonna tell mom?” He fretted and you laughed, shaking your head reassuringly.

“My lips are sealed.” With that a happy smile returned to his face.

He gave your torso a quick squeeze before running to catch up with his speedster brother and uncle. After a second Peter had appeared back at your side, his arm returning to its previous spot around your shoulder and he pulled you into his side.

Peter released a dreamy sigh, eyes set ahead watching as the twins roughhoused, “They grow up so fast.”

You hummed in agreement, lazily wrapping your arm around his waist, “That they do, Mr Maximoff.”

“We make a pretty hot married couple, Mrs Maximoff.” He commented, a sly smirk on his lips as he watched your cheeks heat up and a scoff leave your lips.

“Yeah, in your dreams.” With that you shrugged his arm off and strutted ahead of him, not bothering to look back as he whined out behind you.

“Aw come on, Y/n! We’d be so cute and you know it!”

[disasterofastory]

Disaster of the season Part 2 (Colin B. x Reader)

Disaster of the season Part 2 /Final Colin Birdgerton x Reader Warnings: none

Four times when you embarrass yourself in front of the ton and one time when Colin decides you are the one for him.

III.

Despite your promise to not show yourself again in this season, you find yourself at a Ball in a new, pastel-colored dress. After your last disaster, your mother had to console your sorrow for days to make you leave the bed, and in the end, they had to call over Eloise to chase you out of your room.

The only reason you come is Prince Friedrich.  Of course, not because you want something from the young Prince, but because if he is here, no one will talk about you.

People look at your way as you walk in beside your parents, but they don’t give you more attention.

“You see?” Your mother asks you with a victorious smile. “I told you.”

“Great, mother,” you sigh at her childish behavior but can’t help and smile at her.

“Go and have fun.”

You gulp at the thought. Oh, yeah. Fun. Because you've had so much fun in this season already.

You grab a glass of juice to busy yourself with something while you walk around the ballroom.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Colin says your name to grab your attention from your thoughts.

“Mr. Bridgerton,” you smile at the young man stopping in front of you.

“How are you?” He asks. “When I didn’t see you, I was worried you got sick.”

“I’m fine,” you reassure him. “I just needed a push to leave the house.”

“And the push was my sister, I assume?”

“Who else?”

“I’m glad she was successful. She is here somewhere with Penelope.”

“I will find them eventually,” you answer with a nod. You are sure you will hear the brown-haired girl's dissatisfaction soon enough. 

“Would you like to join me for a walk until then?” Colin asks you, offering his arm.

“Thank you,” you smile at him gratefully, accepting his gesture.

The night goes uneventfully. You don’t fall out of the window or bleed out in front of everyone. It’s a success.

Until now.

You can see Cressida’s swoon from the front row. Everybody gasps worriedly around you as the young woman falls into the Prince’s arms. Soon you can hear Daphne’s voice behind you, then it happens. She giggles at the girl’s obviousness, and you can’t help but laugh too.

Loudly. Clearly.

You gasp at your own reaction, trying to hide your uncontrollable giggles, which burst out of you in waves. People start to glance at you, confused.

“Go out,” Daphne whispers to you, seeing your problem. She tries to suppress her own giggles with better success than you.

Colin grabs your arm gently, pulling you out of the crowd. Tears burn your eyes as you start to cry from laughter. You can feel Cressida’s burning glare at the nape of your neck when your eyes meet with the Prince’s before you get lost among the people with Colin on your heels.

The smaller room with huge paintings is empty and calm. The tons' chatting gets quiet as Colin shuts the door, and you let out the laugh you tried to hide from everybody.

He smiles at your uncontrollable cheerfulness, watching you laughing to your heart content.

“I can’t go anywhere with you,” he says jokingly when you start to calm down.

“I’m sorry,” you chuckle, pulling down your gloves to wipe off your tears and the ruined mascara.

“Wait, let me…” He steps in front of you without a second thought. His touch is warm on your heated skin as he makes sure you are presentable again.

He still has some boyish features despite his age. 

“Thank you,” you smile at him, stepping back before somebody catches you.

“We should go back,” he says. “Go first, I’m sure Eloise has things to say.”

He looks after you as you smooth down your dress and adjust your hair. You still try to suppress your grin as you wave at him as a goodbye, disappearing behind the door. A small smile is constant on his face, looking around the empty room, watching but not really seeing the paintings on the dark painted walls.

A life with you would be adventurous and fun.

IV.

The weeks go by, and the ton slowly forgets your mistakes. Visitors come to your house with flowers and small presents to woo you with poetry and promises.

And you hate it.

Neither of them is the one you want. A few of them seem worthy and kind, while the others are just boring and too pompous. At the end of the day, your face hurts from the forced smiles, but your younger siblings enjoy immensely the chocolates and other sweets you get. Your father seems dissatisfied with your suitors, and he doesn’t waste time to let them know behind his usual polite demeanor.

“You will find the one, I’m sure of it,” he says to you comfortingly.

But that is the problem. You found him years ago.

With a sigh, you nod to reassure him, patting his hand on your knee.

Your jealousy for Daphne seems ridiculous now. Of course, for the ton, it's good that you have so many suitors, but for you, it just gets boring and tiring. The Bridgerton girl refused the Prince of Prussia to marry with the Duke while you sit in the drawing-room for days with men who don’t interest you in the slightest.

You get out of the carriage with your mother behind you in front of the Bridgertons’ imposing house. The wisterias bloom above the freshly cleaned windows, and bees buzz around from flowers to flowers as you walk to the entrance. The butler greets you with a polite smile and escorts you to the drawing-room where the Bridgerton women are already occupied with Lady Danbury.

They welcome you with joy as your mother joins them for a cup of tea while Eloise pulls you over to the loveseat to tell you everything about Lady Whistledown. The young girl seems enthusiastic and too obsessed with the mysterious woman. You smile and listen to her words with nods and hums as you steal a small piece of chocolate from the box on her lap.

"I still can't believe that you accused Mrs. Wilson,” you laugh, and Eloise hits your arm as an answer, but before she can continue with her theories, Colin and Anthony appear in the room with a respectful bow to their mother’s company and cheeky smiles to your way.

“Lady Whistledown?” Anthony asks with a tired sigh, sitting down on the sofa next to his sister.

“Who else?” Colin answers before you, sitting down next to you with a cookie in his mouth. His eyes shine as your gazes meet for a moment while Eloise begins her monologue about women and their derogatory role in society.

“But you will debut in the next season, won't you?” You ask her.

“If it’s up to me, then no,” she answers stubbornly.

“If it comforts you, I will be there too,” you sigh tiredly, leaning back on the backrest. You grab the pillow behind you to hug it on your lap.

“You don’t have suitors?” Colin asks, surprised, turning to you more in his seat.

“I have,” you reply. “They are just…” you grimace with a shrug instead of ending the sentence.

“They are not worthy enough?” Anthony asks, knowing the feeling. After Daphne, he knows the feeling well enough.

“You can say that,” you nod.

“I’m sure you will find somebody,” he reassures you with a gentle smile.

What you don’t see is the cheeky smile he sends to his little brother’s way. The boy’s face gets hot from his brother’s unwanted attention.

“Come on, my daughter,” your mother says out of the blue. “We still have to see the modiste.”

“Have fun,” Eloise says, and you hit her arm softly for her mockery.

What you don't notice is the little teacup between her fingers that falls out of her hand because of your playful slap. Eloise gasps, trying to grab the porcelain, but it's too late. The pleasantly warm tea pours onto your thigh, soaking your dress.

Colin looks at the ruined dress, then up to your mortified expression. His chest starts to hurt seeing your series of bad luck. You really need somebody who can protect you before a piano falls on you from nowhere.

“Poor girl,” Lady Danbury sighs, seeing the tea-stained dress. “It’s definitely not your season.”

V.

The dress you choose for the ball is light-colored with darker lace decorations. The white gloves on your arms are long enough to reach your elbows, and your hair tied up in curly locks with a silky ribbon.

You suppress the disappointment because of the season and your misfortune with love so you can enjoy the last ball of the season. You didn’t see Daphne since the Cressida swooning fiasco, and you hope you can have a few words with her before they go back to Clyvedon.

The garden they decorated for the ball is elegant and flowery.  Large chandeliers hang over the dancefloor, and the painting about the married couple attracts the eyes of the guests.

You stand at the edge of the black and white floor, watching the dancing couples. The music is loud but pleasant, and the chats around you mix with the songs. Your gaze wanders to Daphne, and despite that, she is beautiful as always something seems off with her. The young girl’s face is almost sad as she looks over at her husband.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Colin greets you with a small smile and a bow. “Can I have this dance?” He asks, offering his hand to you.

“It would be my pleasure,” you answer, accepting his proposal.

He leads you to the dancefloor when the orchestra starts to play a new song. His touch is warm on your waist, and his grip is gentle on your hand as you begin to move with him.

“How are you?” He asks you quietly.

“Well, I didn’t do anything horrible yet,” you reply and smile at him when he starts to laugh.

“Then I guess I have to look out for you,” he hums.

“I think I’m too helpless for that,” you sigh, playing with him.

The few minutes you spend in Colin’s arms are amazing. You even forget every disastrous thing that happened to you during the season. Of course, you didn’t find the love you wanted, but you still have time.

“Oh, god,” Colin says suddenly, looking up at the gloomy sky.

Raindrops fall on your shoulder, soaking your hair and dress. You follow the Bridgerton boy’s eyes up to the clouds until you feel him pull you out of the rain. You let him lead you, trying to step over a fresh puddle on the polished floor.

Without success.

The floor slips out under your legs, but your hands are still in Colin’s grip. A small shriek leaves your mouth as you fall on your knees, yanking the boy with you to the floor. He falls on his bottom with a grunt, and you can’t help yourself but laugh at his surprised face. He looks over at you, standing up in his wet clothes to help you up.

Your dress is darker than before, and your wet locks are stuck to your temple and neck.

“I can’t believe this,” he says when you are protected from the rain.

From the corner of your eyes, you can see Daphne laughing on the dance floor with Simon not far from her, but your focus is on the man in front of you.

“I’m so sorry,” you say to him. Your voice is joyful and remorseful at the same time.

Colin stares at you for what feels like long minutes. His face seems content and happy, and you can’t look away despite everyone else watches Daphne and Simon.

“Marry me,” he says after a while. He is so quiet you barely hear his words, and when you do, you can’t believe your ears.

“What?” You gasp.

“I want you to be my wife,” he says more loudly. “I can make you happy and… safe,” His last word is cheeky, but he is still serious as he searches your face for an answer. “I know you for years, and I know our life would be everything but boring and unhappy.”

He watches your soaked form, your smeared mascara, and your messy hair, and his chest tightens. Or just his feelings get bigger. He can’t decide. The only thing he knows is the desire in him to be with you all the time.

“So what do you say? Will you marry me?” He urges you for an answer breathlessly.

“Yes. A million times, yes.”

[ac3id]

The Artist and His Majesty| 18+

𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒶𝓇𝓉𝒾𝓈𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓂𝒶𝒿𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓎 0 / 5 | fantasy au. 

chapter i , chapter ii

pairings: yandere! emperor! shigaraki x female! reader.

warnings: [series] dubcon, exhibitionism, size difference, degradation, masturbation, bondage, reader is also kind of delusional, death, violence (not on reader). (there are more but i can’t think right now.]

↪ for chapter 0: none !!

summary: you come to the big city in hopes of starting your career as an artist but things take a shocking turn when you’re recruited as the court painter for the royal palace.

↪ for chapter 0: a strange man approaches you, offering to buy your painting to which you oblige. little do you know that it kicks of a series of unfortunate events ending with you being trapped in shigaraki tomura’s clutches forever.

wordcount. 

a/n: finally !! i started this series. high-key inspired by these two dresses in my wardrobe and @ana-list‘s this  drawing ! seriously it’s literally everything. also thank you once again for proof reading this @the-grimm-writer ! 

taglist: @shigaraki-is-my-master, @deathmemeiverse, @n4dhii, @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love, @mstssister, @nereida19, @prince-zukohere [dm to be added/ removed.]

“That’s a beautiful painting,” a rough, scruffy voice calls out, jerking you away from your daydreams. Your grip around the color canvas resting in your arms tightens as you glance behind your shoulder to see a well-built man standing right behind you. He’s tall and a lot older than you, he has short grey hair which falls right before his eyebrows along beautiful, matching grey eyes. A cigar hangs lazily from his lips as he occasionally huffs on it, blowing clouds of smoke out his mouth. He’s dressed in expensive robes, a choice of style only people better off could afford. You can’t help exachaning a covetous glance between his expensive suit and your sloppy, knee-length, light green dress. “Thank you.” you murmur shoving him an appreciative look, hoping he’d leave you alone. When you come to the city to complete your studies in art, you mother, father, family and friends had warned you about men like these. Rich, snobby men who liked to lure in young, naive girls. Whispering praises of how they are the most unique on the planet so they pull their guard down form them to take advantage of the helpless beings. 

“Can I take a better look? It’s the Emperor, is it not? Your painting. ” You hesitate before turning back to him. Not a lot of people had seen the King to be. He lived humbly in his castle, trying his best to not indulge in the affairs of the common people. “ Yes,” you hold up the slightly small canvas (courtesy of you being broke the entire week and not being able to save up to buy a bigger canvas). To even get an idea of Shigaraki Tomura, you had to go through many people. Not a lot of people had seen his face, he had always kept it hidden under a mask. No one knew why he did so but the many conspiracy throes suggested it was something to do with his personal grief.

 You had heard many stories about him. Some made him look like a spoiled brat with a demeaning, ignorant personality who didn’t care for others and as the rumors said: self destructive habits which lead him to tear the skin of his own neck down whenever he got anxious or frustrated. 

Others portrayed him as a strong, confident man and a reliable leader who cared for his comrades. You did not know which one of the two personas brought him your attention but you couldn’t complain. Tomura had caught you under a spell, and despite never meeting him (and knowing full well you never would), you were still ready to sacrifice your life for him. He was your King even before he had taken his crown, to you he looked like a shining bright light ready to enlighten you. To you, he was a god. And as years passed by, he grew from a caterpillar into a cocoon which was ready to burst open as a butterfly into the beautiful, mysterious world. And it was happening today, Prince Tomura Shigaraki’s Coronation ceremony. After the passing of All For One, it was his turn to take the crown and fulfill his duty as the ruler of the nation

 The entire city was busy, bustling with people. Families, friends and everyone in between gathered around the huge castle walls as they waited for the ceremony to begin. They waited patiently, filled with excitement and joy as they waited to catch a glimpse of the new great King. You were among them. You had come down to the centre of the city with your friends, waiting alongside many to catch a glimpse of the new ruler. The painting which nestled in your hand was something you were hoping to sell today, to a shop or anyone who wants to have it. It was a beautiful painting which had taken you several days to complete, and dare you say it, you were quite proud of it. From all the things you had heard about Tomura, you had managed to sketch him decently. Long white, wavy hair reaching till his shoulder, skin white as snow. He sat proudly on his throne wearing a cape with his vermillion eyes peering through your soul. His face was scarcely detailed as you did not have much idea about it but he still looked ethereal. With little scars running both his eyes and a comparatively larger one on his right. Chapped lips with even more scars running over them wildly, he was not conventionally attractive. No one would call him a pretty boy yet there was something more, something alluring which attracted  you to him. His beauty was rare, not in the grasp of many but if it was grasped and held close to the heart, it was hard to let go off. And you found him attractive, very attractive. 

The man took a good look at your painting, examining it carefully and for a second you really thought he had seen the mysterious Prince. “It’s quite similar to him,” he sends you a friendly grin and you notice a tooth from his front missing, leaving an uncomfortable gap. “Have you seen him before?” he asked and you shake your head, no. He gives you an amused expression, “I must say, you are very talented, miss…?” you complete your name with a nervous smile. “And you are?” you ask. 

You realised that you were getting a little too comfortable with the stranger and it could be a really bad decision but you can’t help but give him the benefit of the doubt as he behaves like a gentleman you can find yourself to trust. “Kagero Okuta but I like to go by Giran,” he says with a lop-sided grin. Giran, you’ve heard the name before but cannot recall where and how. It sounds so familiar but you just can’t grasp it, he looked wealthy so you assumed he was a Noble and that made you even more curious as to why he was speaking to you.

 “What are you planning to do with that painting?” he asks, diving a closer look and admiring its features. “I must say, you’ve got it quite accurate but,” you stiffen, your hands growing cold as your heartbeat picks up. You realized your painting must have some complications, drawing a man you had never seen before purely out of your interpretation was a hard and a bold task to do. But to have someone who had actually seen the King for himself pinpoint your mistakes sent a rush of anxiety through your veins.

 “He’s not that bony.” He completes and you gulp nervously, looking down at your painting in disappointment. Your eyes are filled with disappointment,  all of the time and effort you spent making the piece all for it go in vain just because you missed a small detail. Giran notices your remorse and speaks up, “But that’s quite alright. He looked just like that until a while ago,” he hadn’t meant to offend or hurt you. He still believed your painting was the most beautiful thing he had seen all day.

 “What do you mean?” you ponder, giving him a perplexed look. He leans  in closer to you as if to tell a secret, “let’s say the King has been working out behind closed doors.” you blink in confusion. It was a strange thing to say, exactly how well did this man know the Emperor? Who was it that you were talking? 

“Who are you?” you can’t help but question, bewildered by such a character. Giran says nothing. He just stares at you with his lips curled into a snappy smirk, holding his cigar between his lips. He was not going to tell you anything. Without wasting time, he quickly changes the topic. “What are you going to do with that painting?” he repeats, his voice growing impatient.

 “I am planning to sell it,” you feel a bit taken back. The friendly aura which had Giran had now disappeared for a reason you could not conclude. “Sell it? To whom?” the intruding nature of his tone starts to make you uncomfortable, there’s nothing more you want to do other than get far away from him. Yet you still find yourself answering him, “To anyone who wants it.” he hums at your response, his eyes holding a mocking glint. “Wouldn’t you like to give it to the Emperor himself?” you frown, was he mocking you? 

“That’s well...impossible.” you reply, stretching your neck awkwardly. “To you, maybe.” 

You stop yourself from rolling your eyes, this man was really testing your patience. A part of you tells you to ignore him and walk away but as he reaches into his coat and pulls out a bag of coins worth much more than you could ever earn in a month, he has you hooked yet again. 

“Hey, let me buy that painting, would yer’?” 

.

..

..

“What is the problem now?” Giran takes a seat around the round table. It was late after the Coronation ceremony and the Royal palace was already facing problems. Giran was disappointed but definitely not surprised. After all, he was their personal problem solver and broker. “It’s not that big of a deal.” A curt and hard reply cut him off.

 “It actually is, Shigaraki Tomura.” a voice speaks, coming from a man dressed in a black suit with a long, flowy robe covering his entire body. He stands taller than the other two men in the as his head is replaced with a wisp of smoke. He was none other than the trusted and talented magician of the Royal family. With eccentric features and an ability to wield strange magic, nobody knew where he came from. There were many rumors about him; that he was once a normal, handsome man cursed by a witch that turned him into a hideous monster or he simply was a ghost. “What is it, Kurogiri?” Giran rephrases his question, directing it to the other man. “We need a new painter,-” 

“Servant.” Shigaraki corrected. He stood in front of the giant windows glancing over his city as his men talked about hiring a new painter for the castle. He couldn’t care less about such tedious tasks, he had his focus set on greater things like expanding his territory, taking back stolen land. 

“What happened to Mr. Kyo?” Giran asked, Shigaraki rolled his eyes at the mention of the name and clicked his tongue, “His Majesty eliminated him.” Giran stops himself from laughing out loud. He was certain once Shigaraki would take over the throne incidents like so would double the instant. But he was expecting it to happen so soon. “And why was that?” 

“He was breathing too loud, like you are right now.” 

A cold silence broke over the room as Giran counted his breath. Kurogiri looked nervously at Shigaraki who still had his back turned to them. The longer the pause grew, the dreadful the atmosphere became. Shigaraki’s threat strung the air loud and clear and Giran was afraid to speak again. “What we are asking for is that-,” Kurogiri started in a calm, slow tone easing the tension in the room. “-we need a new court painter. Do you have any names?” 

The murderous sent in the air magically disappeared as a grin stretched across Giran’s face. 

“Aren’t you in luck?” He says, running a hand through his hair before taking a puff out of his cigar. “Does that mean you know someone?” Kurogiri questioned. Giran hummed, “You see, I met this beautiful painter today. She’s extremely talented and I know for a fact she will love working for the castle.” 

“What’s the name?” growing impatient, Shigaraki asks. “Oh, it was,” Giran pauses for a moment to recall. 

“Ah yes, Y/N L/N.” 

[ravennm84]

Serafina

Part 2     Part 3

Based on @unmaskedagain post “Marinette’s Haunted Doll” this is my take on the story and the kind of things Serafina would have done to get even. There’ll be three parts, and will hopefully be posted through the week. Blood, gore, and character death ahead. You have been warned.

She was seven years old when her Grandma Gina’s sister, Ramona, passed away. Marinette couldn’t remember ever meeting her. Her dad said that she was a very private person and didn’t get out much. Since she had never married or had any children, all of her relatives were asked to come over to the house and divide the property before the rest was sold and equally divided. 

While her parents had been in the kitchen, looking over some family cook books, Marinette had wandered around the old house until she came to a small room. It was full of spiderwebs and old toys, which greatly interested her. She spent a long time looking through the boxes and shelves until she found a locked chest in the closet. Remembering the key she had seen in a dresser drawer, she retrieved it to see if it worked. It was hard to turn, but she heard the click and was able to open the lid. Inside was a box with an envelope laying on top of it. Curious she opened the envelope and read the note as best as she could.

“If I’m dead, Serafina killed me.”

Tilting her head in curiosity, Marinette set the letter aside and opened the box. Inside was an old looking porcelain doll. It was covered in spiderwebs, the dress was old and ripped, she was missing a shoe, and the hat looked like it was stained with red paint. 

“Are you Serafina?” She asked the doll before carefully lifting it out of the box. “I don’t think you’re bad, you just look lonely. But don’t worry, I’ll take care of you!” Giving the doll a gentle hug, the little girl got to her feet and left the room and letter behind. Finding her parents, she asked if it was okay to take the doll home so she could take care of her.

Tom remembered seeing that doll when he was a kid and had always thought it was creepy, but if his little girl saw the good in it, he would trust her. And since none of the other relatives wanted anything to do with the doll, it came home with them. 

Once home, the little girl raced up to her room with the doll and immediately got to work. She threw away the old dress, hat, and shoe before cleaning away all the dirt with a washcloth and carefully combing out the knotted hair. Then Marinette got to work on making Serafina a brand new outfit with new shoes and a hat. It took a few days, but she was really happy with what she came up with: a pink Victorian dress with rose and pearl accents, a wide brimmed hat with maroon feathers, and maroon slippers that tied with ribbons around the ankles.

Proud of what she had made, Marinette held the doll up high as she twirled around her room. She had been interested in fashion and clothes for months now, and making the pretty outfit for Serafina was a lot of fun. If anything, it proved to her that fashion design was what she wanted to do.

“I hope you like your new clothes, Serafina. You make the perfect little model, so I hope you don’t mind if I make more clothes for you later on. I promise to only make you clothes that will make you feel pretty.” Giving the doll a kiss, Marinette placed her next to her computer before skipping down stairs for dinner.

~oOo~

Serafina had not been expecting this when the young girl, Marinette, had opened her box. It had been decades since anyone had shown her any kindness. For so many years, she had been passed from person to person, shoved into boxes and hidden from sight or attempted to be sold off. Serafina had had no choice but to punish many of her past owners, and she had not been lax with their punishments. 

But she didn’t feel the need to do that with Marinette, this girl was different. She wasn’t afraid of her. She didn’t scorn her and hide her away where no one could see her. No, this girl was kind and made Serafina feel loved; something she hadn’t felt in nearly a hundred years. Staying with Marinette, she knew that she would be happy. So, no one needed to die here.

And she was.

The porcelain doll smiled quietly on Marinette’s desk as the years passed, and felt more for this girl than she could remember with anyone else. She felt beautiful whenever Marinette used her to experiment with a new outfit before she would make a full sized outfit for herself. She had fun when the girl would sing and dance around the room, sometimes even picking her up so she could dance with her. She felt entertained when she would play movies on her computer, one time watching a movie about a haunted doll like herself; they didn’t watch much before she turned it off, but Serafina thought it was funny. Scratching people and leaving notes wasn’t scary, she had done much scarier things than that.

As Marinette grew into a teen, Serafina felt proud as she grew from a shy girl into a fearless superhero. Her owner had a lot of love and light to give, so it made sense to her that she became Ladybug. She also felt scared for the girl, not wanting to lose her to Hawkmoth, but silently promised her that if she was ever hurt, the people who hurt her would pay her back in blood.

Serafina was also aware of the tiny god that gave Marinette her power, just as Tikki was aware of her. No doubt, the god could sense the darkness that dwelled in her porcelain body, but realized that she cared for the girl and would not harm her. So the little god wisely said nothing, she would hate it if Marinette suddenly feared her.

After all, the three of them were happy and at peace.

Until the day Marinette came storming into her room, complaining about a girl named Lila. From what she could hear, this girl was a liar and was using her friends. Knowing how much her human cared for other people, that didn’t sit well with how it would affect her. Then she didn’t hear anything about the girl for months. But when she was mentioned again, it quickly got worse from there. 

Serafina heard about the threats, the lies, almost being akumatized, her crush Adrien telling her to take the high road, all of it. She watched as one by one, her friends turned against her. Bullying her while accusing her of being a bully until only three of her classmates remained. She knew that the teacher and principal were useless and even accused Marinette of being a problem, especially after the expulsion. Serafina had nearly enacted her revenge that day, but held back when she was reinstated the next day.

Nathaniel, Rose, and Juleka were the only people left that believed her or even bothered to try and help in her class. There was also Kagami and Luka, Juleka’s brother. Serafina would admit, that boy was sharper than most. When he first saw her, his blue eyes studied her intently for a long moment until Marinette spoke up.

“That’s Serafina, she’s been passed down through my family for a long time. She was in really bad condition when I got her and took a lot of work to get her fixed up, but it was worth it. She was my first ever model and I’ve never felt lonely since she’s been around.”

Luka looked back over at the doll and gave her a smile. “I can tell, I’d bet no one gave her the proper love or attention until she came to you. And I think, if she could talk, she would say that you kept her from feeling lonely too, and all she wants is for you to be happy.”

Serafina liked that boy, a lot more than she had liked Adrien when he had come to play video games. The boy genuinely seemed to care for Marinette. And even though he could somehow sense that she was more than just a doll, he didn’t spill her secret. Yes, she approved of this one.

And then, less than a week after she returned to school, came the worst day. They were taking pictures at the school and Marinette had worked so hard on a new dress; it was pale purple cotton with teacup sleeves, a tulip skirt and pink lace at the hem. It was so sweet and looked like she was going to a spring tea party. Then half way through the day, she came into her room crying. Her makeup was smeared, there were bruises and scratch marks on her arms, another bruise on her cheek, her hair was a mess and covered in dark blue paint. The same paint that covered almost half of the dress. Tikki was doing her best to comfort the girl as she showered. Marinette was unable to save her dress and ended up throwing it away before she cried herself to sleep on her bed. 

Serafina was angry, the kind of anger she hadn’t felt since Ramona had attempted to burn her in the fireplace… and that hadn’t gone well for her. Tikki flew over to face her. “I know what you’re thinking and I can’t condone you falling into old habits and killing her entire class. Despite how much they’ve hurt her, it would still break her heart if they all suddenly died.”

The doll actually considered that for a moment before picturing some very specific people. Lila, the liar that was trying to take away/destroy the person she cared about. Alya, the best friend that betrayed her, acted like a hypocrite, and took joy in hurting her. Adrien, the boy that not only broke his promise to help her as a civilian, but continually harassed her as a pseudo-hero. And finally, Hawkmoth, the person that was constantly putting her in danger. Everyone else that had harmed her would be punished, paying back the harm they had done to Marinette in blood, but those four would pay with their lives.

Tikki shook her head. “As angry as I am with Adrien, you can’t kill him. Marinette still has feelings for him and if he dies, she might never get over him. I can’t stop you from punishing them, but please try not to kill them. You know that she has a big heart and it would hurt her to lose any of them, so please keep that in mind.”

Serafina would have argued, but the little god was right. Killing around Marinette would only upset her. So she would do her best to punish them without killing them… although, accidents do happen. 

~oOo~

It was easy enough to sneak herself into Marinette’s bag the next day of school. It was even easier to select her first victims. One of her classmates, Kim, stole her backpack and dumped out all of her stuff, including her. The boy laughed about Marinette bringing a doll to school as he ran up the stairs to keep it away from her. It took little effort to make the boy trip, in full view of everyone that had been watching, and fall backwards down the steps. 

Serafina had landed at the top landing with a perfect view of the boy’s tumble, and it was oh so satisfying. She could see his knee bent in the wrong direction, a bone in his arm protruding from the skin, and blood dripping from the cuts and open wounds. But the sound was even better, all the cracking and popping of bone before he began crying like a little girl, begging for his mom.  Ah, she hadn’t realized how much she had missed those sounds.

When the principal came out to see what was happening, she hid her presence and let the principal trip over her and fall as well. He even landed on Kim, causing more injuries to both of them. She held back a laugh as the grown man wailed and cried until the paramedics arrived. Loading the two into the ambulance while one of the teachers called the Board of Governors. A representative, M. Rupere, quickly came to take over the principal’s duties while he was gone, and was surprised when a bunch of students tried to blame Marinette for the incident.

“And how is it her fault?” He asked the students that surrounded him. “Did you see her push or trip M. Le Chien or M. Damocles down the stairs?

“Marinette brought in a doll and Kim was distracted by it when he was going up the stairs, that’s how he tripped and fell,” Lila told him with tears in her eyes. “Then M. Damocles tripped over the doll and fell down the stairs too. It’s just like how she pushed me down the stairs last week and I hurt my knee. I think she’s actually trying to hurt people.”

The man looked at Lila for a moment before looking to the top of the stairs, but there was no doll there. Then he looked back at Lila with a stern glare. “Young lady, if you had been pushed down the stairs last week, you would have been severely injured just like your friend or M. Damocles. And whether or not it was Mlle. Dupain-Cheng’s doll that caused the incident or not, does not mean that she is at fault for the accident. To the principal’s office, right now. I think we should have a discussion as to why you are trying to blame another student for something she did not do.”

Totally shocked, the girl looked around to her followers for some support, but they were now looking at her with uncertainty. They had just seen two people fall down the stairs and receive severe injuries, so how was Lila walking around just fine without a scratch on her? Huffing in annoyance, Lila stomped her way to the office while the class stared after her, most of them noticing the lack of limp to her walk.

Serafina was pleased with how this was turning out, she had already punished two of the people that had betrayed Marinette and had begun sewing seeds of doubt with the liar. At the moment, she was hiding in the classroom, observing everyone so she could figure out the best way to punish them. She noticed Rose, Juleka, and Nathaniel sitting close to the girl and doing their best to comfort her. She also noticed Nino, a boy she had seen a couple of times over the years, casting looks back at Marinette. 

During the first break, the boy cautiously approached her, clutching his hat in his hands. “Hey dudette, listen… I, um, wanted to say I was sorry,” he said, having a hard time looking her in the eye. “After Kim fell, what that Governor dude said about Lila not being hurt, and the fact that I’ve known you forever. I felt so stupid. You would never push someone down the stairs or cheat or steal from someone like that. And I tried looking up Jagged’s discography to see if there was any mention of a song about Lila, and there was literally nothing. I tried telling Alya, but she didn’t want to listen and-”

Nino was interrupted by Marinette giving him a hug. Serafina smiled at that. The boy had thought for himself and admitted that he was wrong. He apologized and Marinette was willing to offer him forgiveness. She supposed that Nino could also be exempt from punishment, so long as he never betrayed the girl again.

Half way through the second lesson, Lila had returned to the class with two weeks worth of detention and had a meeting scheduled with herself, M. Rupere, and her mother at the end of the week. Serafina decided to let the girl’s empire fall before going in to completely destroy her.

During lunch, when all the students had left. Serafina got to work on punishing Mme. Bustier. She started by slamming the door shut, it made the woman jump and look around the room, but there was no one there. Then the giggling started, causing her to look around the room again. This time, she walked up the steps to see if anyone was hiding in the room, but she was completely alone. When she turned back to her desk, the papers she had been grading were torn to pieces. A bit panicked, Bustier tried to run out of the room, but the door was locked. As she struggled with the door, she heard the scraping of chalk and froze for a moment before looking at the board. Large words were scrawled in block letters: LIAR, ENABLER, MEAN, CRUEL, and the most frightening of all, YOU WILL PAY.

Bustier’s hands were shaking as she erased the words from the board, not understanding what was happening. Only taking a breath when the door opened and her students began to file in. Serafina quietly laughed at the teacher’s fear, she was another person that she would take her time in punishing. Payback for failing to help Marinette. For now, it was time to take out her biggest supporter. 

Again, it was much easier than it should have been to sneak herself in Alya’s backpack and go home with her. When the girl found her she sneered. “The klutz must have put you in my bag by mistake.” Then she smiled cruelly at her. “I think I’ll give you to Etta and Ella to play with before giving you back to Maribrat, maybe tell them that you need a makeover and give them some permanent markers too.”

Turning to take the doll out to her sisters, she stubbed her toe on her desk chair hard enough that she felt a crack and dropped back on her butt while hissing in pain. When she was finally able to think past the pain, she realized that she had dropped the doll and didn't see it on the floor. After wrapping her foot, she looked all over her room but couldn’t find it anywhere.

That night, things got… more than scary. Alya was absolutely terrified.

First, her computer turned on, on its own, and started printing off papers saying “YOU KNOW THE TRUTH”. She turned the computer off, only for it to turn back on after she’d climbed into bed and the browser pulled up past searches; specifically, the searches that proved that Lila had been lying. She had found that out after Lila had disappeared from school for months, but had kept to herself so she wouldn’t lose her credibility on her blog or have to admit to Marinette that she’d been right. Turning it off again, she’d decided to sleep on the couch when her phone suddenly let out a hiss and burst into flames.  

Letting out a shriek, Alya rushed to her door, and had just barely opened it when it slammed shut on her fingers, causing her to scream as she struggled to pull her hand free. She could hear her parents and Nora shouting on the other side of the door, trying to push it open, but it wouldn’t budge. Her head got fuzzy and she suddenly felt cold, she realized that she was going into shock. Her parents’ shouts became garbled background noise and Alya heard the sound of tiny feet running around the room. She tried reaching the light switch so she could see, but it was out of reach.

From the light outside her window, she could barely make out the movement of a small shadow, moving from one part of the room to another. Coming closer and closer to her with every sweep. Alya began tugging harder on the doorknob and her hand. She needed to get out. Something was in the room with her. She could almost feel the darkness creeping closer. It wanted to hurt her!

What happened next, Serafina couldn’t have planned better if she’d tried. Alya jerked back her trapped arm and the doorknob at the same time Nora threw her shoulder into the door as hard as she could. Sending the teenagers flying into her bedside table and her head hitting the corner with an audible *crack*. The doll smiled silently in the corner of the room as the paramedics were called and listened to her parents cries for their horrid daughter to wake up. They called time of death at 2:03am.

~oOo~

It was a bit more of a chore for Serafina to get back to the school, but it was still manageable as her mother had to inform the school of her daughter’s death and pick up her things. The woman had also noticed the information that had been brought up on Alya’s computer and thought that she had been up late chasing a lead. And as the lead had to do with the disturbing behavior of one of her daughter’s classmates, she thought it best to show the acting principal the information before taking her leave. 

Making her way back to the classroom, she saw that the news had spread already. Nino seemed to be hit the hardest, as it was his girlfriend, but he would get over it. Kim was still out of class, and likely would be for a few more days. Tikki saw the doll when she was peeking out of the purse and gave her a disapproving glare, but there was nothing she could do. And in Serafina’s defense, she had only intended on maiming the failed journalist, her death had been an “accident”.

When class let out for lunch, Serafina got back to work tormenting Mme. Bustier. Today, the door slammed and locked shut a few minutes after the last student left. The woman shrieked and was struggling to open the door when the giggling started again. Bustier started screaming for it to “go away” but the giggling continued. Turning back to the door, books began flying at her from all over the room, hitting her chest, back, arms since they were shielding her head.

Then the door opened to show a panicked looking M. Rupere. “I heard screaming, are you alright?” The red haired teacher looked extremely frazzled; her hair was a mess, eyes wide and dilated, and her hands were shaking.

“The books,” she said in a trembling voice. “There was giggling, the door wouldn’t open, and the books attacked me. And this was the second time!”

His eyebrows rose to his hairline as he stared at the woman. “Did you see who was throwing the books at you?”

Bustier shook her head in a frantic manner. “There was no one, the books just started flying at me after the giggling.”

Giving her a slow nod, Rupere gently motioned her to step out of the room ahead of him. “How about you take the rest of the day to recover? Some rest will do you some good.” 

To his relief, Mme. Bustier agreed and collected her purse before leaving the school. Looking around the room, he was confused to see all the books in place on the shelves. Curious, he went to examine her desk and saw essay papers… covered in red ink with large “F’s” on every one of them. Reading the paper on top, all he saw were a few grammar mistakes, nothing that should have resulted in a failing grade. A bit unsettled, Rupere called the Board to schedule a psychological exam for the teacher. Serafina watched the man with satisfaction, at the rate she was going with that terrible teacher, she wouldn’t be around much longer.

Her next victims were Max and Alix during science class. She switched a couple of labels on the tubs on their desk before hiding in the room to enjoy the show. Half-way through class, Max poured a large amount of reactive chemical into the mix while it was warming over a burner, and the glass exploded. The two screamed and cursed in pain as Max tried wiping the liquid away from his face, only succeeding in getting more in his eyes. Alix tried wiping it away with a cloth, not noticing in time that the fabric was also soaked in the chemicals that now covered her entire face.

Serafina was impressed with how quickly Mme. Mendeleiev reacted to the incident. Doaning on gloves in an instant and leading the two students to the chemical wash station. Both students looked to have chemical burns on their faces, arms and necks. She could already see the burns covering a large amount of their exposed skin. While the class was distracted, Serafina switched the labels back so it would appear that the two had not been doing as instructed.

When school let out, the doll hid away in Mylene’s bag and ended up going on a date with the girl and Ivan. They commented on the bad luck their class seemed to be having and wondered out loud at what the cause might have been.

Mylene was hesitant to speak as the two ate their ice cream. “Do you think… maybe it’s karma coming back on our class?”

“Why do you think that?” Ivan asked her, seeming genuinely curious. Deciding that their conversation might lead to something more, Serafina waited and listened.

“It’s just… ever since Kim fell down the stairs, it’s got me thinking. Lila says that Marinette pushed her but the only injury she says she got was a bad knee, and she’s been walking around fine since then. And then she tried blaming Marinette for Kim and M. Damocles, when Kim shouldn’t have been running up the stairs and M. Damocles tripped at the top of the stairs when she was still down in the courtyard.”

“You’re right, now that I think about it. Lila lied to that new principal and she did it really easy.” Ivan nodded slowly, his brow creased as he pulled out his phone. “I wonder if she lied about anything else.” Mylene watched over his shoulder as he looked up the story about saving Jagged Stone’s kitten from an airplane. There was nothing, the only article that came up about a pet was his crocodile, Fang. The story said that he had hatched the reptile himself seventeen years earlier and any other pet wouldn’t be as rock’n’roll as Fang. “I don’t think Jagged ever had a cat, this article says that he’s only had Fang for longer than we’ve been around.”

Mylene pulled out her phone and called Rose, putting the call on speaker when she answered. 

“Hi Mylene, did you hear anything about Max and Alix? Are they going to be okay?” The girl asked as soon as she picked up.

“Ivan and I haven’t heard anything about them yet, but we have a question for you, Rose, and it’s something only you would be able to answer.”

There was a slight pause on the line. “Go ahead.”

“Do you still chat with Prince Ali?”

“Sure I do! We video chat every Saturday and I send him videos of our performances with Kitty Section. Why do you ask?”

“Ivan and I were wondering… Has he ever mentioned Lila to you?”

There was another pause, although they could hear a hushed conversation in the background. “So, you guys figured out the truth about Lila?” When they didn’t respond right away, Rose continued. “I found out a few weeks after Lila says she came back from Achu. I mentioned Lila to Ali and asked him about the charities they had been working on together, but he’d never heard of her. And Ali is only working on charities involving children, nothing with the environment. When Juleka and I tried asking Lila about it, she got really mean and threatened us if we told anyone. I would have been akumatized if Marinette hadn’t been there to calm me down.”

Ivan and Mylene were horrified, not only had Lila been lying to them, but she had threatened Rose, Juleka, and probably Marinette too. “What should we do?”

“First, you should apologize to Marinette for how you’ve been treating her and let her know that you know the truth.” They heard Juleka over the phone. “Lila has been more terrible to her than anyone else and she keeps getting in Lila’s way to protect us and Nathaniel since we know the truth about her.”

“Who all knows?” Ivan asked, feeling a bit sick to his stomach. Sure, he and Mylene hadn’t really hurt her or done anything, but they hadn’t stood up for her either and they were supposed to be her friend.

“Us, Luka, Kagami, Nathaniel figured it out when she said she could introduce him to Stan Lee, Nino figured it out yesterday, and Adrien’s apparently known from the start but didn’t say anything because he doesn’t think her lies are hurting anybody.”

Both of them could hear the acid in Juleka’s voice when she mentioned Adrien, and they couldn’t argue with her. They knew he had led a sheltered life, but how could he claim that ‘lies don’t hurt anybody’ after sitting back and watching Lila and her friends torment and bully Marinette?

Mylene hadn’t even realized that she had asked that question out loud until Rose answered them. “He told us that it was Marinette’s own fault for antagonizing Lila, and ‘If she just took the high road like I told her, then Lila would leave her alone’. It took everything I had not to slap him.”

Coming from Rose, that really was saying something.

Serafina was then taken on a shopping trip to an arts supplies store, a card shop, and a stop at an ATM before going to Marinette’s family’s bakery. She smiled quietly and with great respect to the couple as they apologized to her girl, gave her cards, an entire bolt of soft purple cotton the same color that her ruined dress had been, a new sketchbook, and money to pay her back for some of the things that Marinette had given them over the past year. They even asked her to provide them with proper receipts, and admitted that they knew the amount they had given her wasn’t enough to cover everything. But they promised to pay her back before asking for anything else, as well as pay in advance for any future items or baked goods. 

The little doll would have cried right along with Marinette if she could. These two had proven themselves to her and would avoid punishment, just as Nino had.

Taglist (it’s a long one):

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[keity-devil]

Another one, I know. (Destinyshipping fic, spoil 'my not my never' child/teen @breathlessmorro.). But is more a fluff one. I think. Enjoy.

--

Powers, my love? - Part 1.

--

Morro and Kai have been in a relationship for a year and a few months already. They were happy with each other. The days together were amazing for them. Kai had met Morro for the first time because of Lloyd's help. They told everyone one day that his cousin was moving to town and he was excited about it. (Especially since they hadn't seen each other in years, Morro not knowing about the Garmadon family's problems until a few days after he came to town.) When he first saw him, he saw an emo and slightly shy boy, but with a tough personality, dreaded if you touched a blond hair of Lloyd's. Kai couldn't believe Morro was really Lloyd's cousin. They were so different from each other. Hair color skin, language, that's what he think until he find out it's actually adopted. They began to meet more often (because Lloyd wanted his best friend and cousin to get along), and the flame ignited. When Lloyd found out about Kai's relationship with Morro, he didn't expect his plan to have such a great result. He had agreed to their relationship, even pleased with it. Kai didn't expect that either, not to mention Morro who was confused at the beginning of their relationship, he thought it was all just a dream, a fiction, he didn't think anyone would love him and yet.. he found someone. They had kept this relationship a secret until they were quite comfortable with the idea of ​​the rest knowing about it.

But they both kept a secret from each other. Elemental Powers. Kai kept his firepower hidden from Morro, and Morro kept his windpower from Kai. They both kept it a secret, and to this day, everything has gone well with this secret concealment of power.

Kai opened his eyes slowly. The light coming from the sun came straight into his eyes. He turned his heavy head to the seat next to it. Morro slept soundly, a few strands of hair hanging down his slightly pale face. Kai turned completely to his lover, staring at him. He could feel the fire in him wanting to come out. It was hard to control himself not to create a heart of fire for his love every time he did something adorable or felt that he did not know how to show/express his love for him. But he couldn't do it. He risked his identity as a Fire Ninja, Red, Flame, he risked endangering both of them.. and he didn't want that.

Morro felt his dream slowly crumble, his eyes hard to open. When he opened them a little, he could already see a smile on someone face.

"Morning..." He said softly, feeling his throat dry.

"Morning mi corazón." Kai approached Morro's face, kissing his forehead softly.

Morro in response, approached him to warm up a little, maybe he will fell asleep. It seemed strange to him how Kai was much warmer at times, but when he asked him about it, he had received the answer that it was only because he is cold.

"Don't fall asleep again. You just woke up." He said with a smile.

Morro couldn't stop an innocent grin. "And what if I fall asleep again?~"

"I'll be forced to throw cold water at you to really wake up."

"Oh no, not at all. I'm sick of it. Do you want me to be sick?"

"N-no..?"

"Exactly. Just another five minutes..."

"Okay. Just five minutes." He had begun to stroke his thick, black hair.

------

Ninjas had to patrol the city every night. Just two. And tonight, Wu put Wind and Flame.

"Your serious now?" Wind said, rolling his eyes.

"This is the truth." Flame said, looking at the starry sky outside before he left.

"Why did Wu put me with you?" He said unfriendly.

"You say it like it's a bad thing."

"Maybe it is."

Flame said nothing more, wishing this patrol would end quickly so he could go home. He missed someone and thought of a good excuse for being late. The patrol went fast. Nothing new for the two of them. Wind and Flame were good at fighting, but in conversation and socializing, they needed work.

"Well, end of patrolling for tonight. It's late, I should run home quickly."

Wind looked at him. "Why? Parents, brother, sister?"

"Beloved boyfriend." He said calmly.

"Oh." He lowered his head. He didn't know why, but hearing him say that word, he had done it... "Mhm. Go then. Don't let him wait for you." He said in a tone with a little venom in it, disappearing from Kai's vision like the wind.

"What's with him? No, you know something Kai? It doesn't matter what's with him. I still wonder who's under the mask. Who could Wu trust to have these powers...?"

------

Morro arrived home first. The last conversation with Flame had left him in a bad mood. He wanted to make coffee, but that wouldn't calm him down, so he resorted to his father's method of tea. He went into the bedroom first, no sign of Kai. He could feel the bizarre state in him growing. He left a cold wind behind him, filling the room with a restless cold air.

Kai reached the front door of the apartment. He repeated his apology in his mind.

"Okay Kai. You can do it. Calm down, you know the words." He pressed the doorknob. When he entered, a strong mint smell struck him, with a cold wind as well. "Uh... tea?" He closed the door, rushed inside. At the kitchen table was the brunette, with a cup in his hand, frequently hitting it with his nails painted light blue and black. "Morro? Uh... are you okay?"

"Mhm.. Yes. Why? Problems? " Morro didn't want it to sound so harsh, but he was still on needles.

"Nope. None." He approached him, placing one of his hands on Morro's back. "¿Disgustado?"

"¡No entiendo cuál es SU problema!" Morro started. Not realizing what language he was in. "¡Incluso estaba tratando de tener una conversación normal con Él! Y comienza con eso y- ugh..!" He threw his head on the table, but he had hit the cup of tea with his forehead, overturned the cup, letting the mint liquid run down the tablecloth, which flowed slowly on the edge and on the floor. "Fuck this!!" He screamed, feeling like he was about to throw the cup against the wall. Instead, he picked it up, placing it violently on the table. He rose from his chair, taking a few steps that swirled in a circle walk, his fingers gripped by his disheveled, disheveled black hair.

Kai was just looking at him. Morro had rare moments like this. When he had the first one, it was from an old frustration that happens again. Then he managed to calm him down because he knew the reason, but now he didn't understand him.

"Hey, hey.. it's okay. It doesn't matter that you spilled it and stained the tablecloth. It can be washed. Calm down." Kai try to calm him down with the tea problem.

Morro wanted to scream, but he was holding him in. He didn't know how he could do that, knowing that in moments like this he would throw almost everything out of his soul. The brunette looked at him, his nails still in his scalp. He had taken a few breaths.

"Okay.. Okay.. I'm calm. I'm calm." Morro had taken a few steps to where they kept the water, putting it in a cup and drink it all in one go. "Can we.. forget about it, please? And just sit in bed, fall asleep in each other's arms...?" He said softly, feeling his hands tremble.

Kai smiled slowly. He did not want to insist on the reason for the crisis, because of the emotional state Morro was in now. "Of course. Come here."

Kai reached for the brunette's waist, coming down for a kiss that had greedily returned him.

------

The Ninjas were urgently call by Wu. Morro had not received the call, nor could he.

"Ninja, you've arrived. ... Where's Wind?" Wu knew their identities in each and every Ninja, and Ninja between them, except Wind. They didn't know who Wind was under the mask, nor Wind who they were under the mask. And they agreed with that. One day they will know about each other.

"I don't know, Master Wu." Zane replied calmly.

"Are you feeling well, Kai?" Wu asked, seeing his restless state.

Kai had muted a little, surprised by the question. "No, no. I'm fine, Sensei."

"You don't look good, Master of- "

"I'm worried!" He interrupted his Sensei. "Morro should have called me or sent me a text an hour ago and he didn't..! What if something happened to him??" They had an agreement with the call or the messages. Morro had a telecaster class after school and told him he would let him know when he went out to see him, but nothing.

"Something to happend to Morro? I think you're kidding Kai." Cole said, knowing the personality of Lloyd's cousin, Wu's son.

"I'm not kidding. It's possible. Morro doesn't know how to fight. He's not like us." That had frightened Lloyd. If he knew the truth, he would have been calm.

"I'm sure my son is fine, Kai." Wu reassured him. He was not afraid that Morro was in any danger, he knew his son. If he was in danger, he would have already announced it. "I say to- " The 'Garmadon' alarm sounds in the room.

"Attack in Ninjago by Lord Garmadon. He now seems to be attacking random places." Nya said, looking at the new target of evil.

"That's... that's where I live!" Kai said quickly, recognizing the place. "When I get Garmadon, I'll- "

"Kai... If Morro is there and that's why he didn't contact you?!" Jay suspected agitatedly.

"Oh no... we have to hurry."

------

Morro didn't care if anyone could see him. The world was in danger, and his instincts came first. When he removed the last person from the building, he turned inside, slamming the doors behind him with a strong wind, blocking them.

"Heh, now let's take care of the rats."

He was walking in the white dust with all his senses on alert. He couldn't see well, but he could hear. Suddenly Morro felt a hand grip his shoulder. He quickly reached for the stranger and knocked him to the ground. From the rising smoke, three Garmadon generals had appeared.

'Looks like I'm going to have some fun today.'

He held out his hands wide, after hitting them against each other. The wind that formed next to the three of them pushed them violently together as he clapped his hands against each other. All that was left in the air was his right hand, which had begun to control the wind that was now above the enemies, pressing against them. Sounds of pain were heard. Dust roamed the room uncontrollably. One of them managed to open his eyes despite the strong wind.

"Who are you?! A monster!? Surely a monster!" He spoke agitatedly, closing his eyes again, feeling the pressure even stronger now.

Morro's eyes gleamed in shock at the generals pressed by his wind.

"Monster! You destroyed everything! The houses, the vegetation, EVERYTHING!!"

Words from the past resound in his head. His hand had begun to tremble and his breath was short of breath.

"I'm not a monster." His tone had become harsh, both hands rising, putting them in a cage pressed by the cold wind. He was about to stop their right to breathe- "Monster!" Everything stood still for a few seconds, leaving his trembling hands to fall past his limp body.

The generals were breathing a lot, telling each other to get out of here as soon as possible, that the guy is crazy, a monster. Morro felt his legs begin to tremble, clinging to the wall with his hand.

"Everything is fine.. is fine.. What was in the past is gone..." He looked around disfigured. The white dust fell slowly to the ground. "I'd better go..."

"Morro!" A voice called his name out of nowhere.

"What the..?" Morro was amazed to hear someone call his name from afar, behind him.

"Morro!" Kai stopped running when he saw his lover. He would have arrived sooner if the door had not been locked. He was too agitated to remember what he was wearing at the moment.

"Kai..?" Morro froze in shock, feeling himself tremble much harder. Now it made sense in his head why it was always so hot and warm..

"I thought something happened to you!" He reached in front of him, taking both Morro's pale hands. Kai looked at him intently to see if he had any scratches or injures. He didn't, it was just filled with white dust and shaking body. He looked into his eyes, which were full of shock and... fear? "Morro, mi corazón, are you okay?"

Morro sat for a while, processing the words spoken by the person who had made him nervous the night before. "You're.. Fire Ninja.. Flame.. Kai, are-are you Him?"

This hit Kai directly in the soul. Only then did he realize what was happening. He knew it made no sense to deny it, it was just a waste of time and words.

"Uh.. yes. Yes I am." He remembered the fighting moves and supernatural powers the generals had feared when they left the building. "How do you know how to fight so well?" If they put the card on the table, put them all on.

The brunette, now with white dust on his head, stared blankly. "Wind. I'm Wind, Kai."

"You're kidding.."

"Not at all." He had created a small tornado with both hands. "See?"

"That explains why- Omg... Were you talking about me last night?"

Morro nodded slowly. His heart was pounding inside him. He didn't know if it was from anxiety, fear, emotions, or even all three or more, but he knew it was starting to hurt. Oh, and those damn memories. Morro now expected Kai to yell at him, even leave him. He expected the worst. He was too afraid to think of a good script. But.. Kai had started laughing.

"No.. I don't.. I don't understand.. Why.. why are you laughing?" He was confused.

"Oh! That explains MUCH better your condition last night." He slowly laughed, slowly squeezing his lover's pale hands. "You just didn't think I'd leave you for that, did you?" Morro looked down guilty. "Omg.. come here." He took him in his arms. "I hid that from you too. And you. We're even. It's nothing serious, mi corazón. On the contrary, I'm much calmer now. Calm that you'll be fine.. I had to think that Wind is Wu's son. It was obvious!"

Morro slammed his fist into his chest, looking him in the eye afterwards. "No. It wasn't. I was behaving completely differently."

"Maybe, but not always." He gripped his face in his fingers.

"I say I played theater well at times- " He had been interrupted by someone's lips on his. The kiss hadn't been a long one, but it had been a calm one for the brunette. "You'd better fly, colorful Ninja.~ You don't want the rest to suspect anything. I can feel them approaching the entrance to look for you."

Kai looke behind him, then glanced back at his boyfriend. "After you know what, I'll be back, okay?"

"Mhm.. Just kiss me already."

"Your wish is my command.~" Kai kissed him again, this time it was a longer one.

--

T r a n s l a t e :

Kai: "Upset?"

Morro: "I just- I don't understand what HIS problem is! I was even trying to have a normal conversation with Him! And he starts with that and- ugh..!"

[sweetpeasgirl]

A Northside, Southside Romance | Sweet Pea

Description: Sweet Pea goes to Pop’s when he wants to feel like a normal teenager. He orders a strawberry milkshake and curly fries. Tonight, with his order, he gets something unexpectedly sweet. He gets something he can’t want but does anyway. Tonight he gets y/n.

Word Count: 1.9k

Pairing: Sweet Pea x Female!Reader

Warnings: None

Tags: FLUFF

Sweet Pea walks down the dusky streets of Riverdale after dark. His head is ducked, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He knows where he's going but that doesn't mean he wants anyone else to know. After all, Serpents don't drink milkshakes. How would it look if one of their toughest is seen drinking a strawberry one in the light of day?

The door to Pop's opens with a welcoming chime. To Sweet Pea's ears, though, it sounds more threatening than cheerful. That's the price of being in a gang; constantly glancing over your shoulder. There have been too many times where he's had some punk try to backstab him. Quite literally, to clarify.

Glancing around the old establishment, Sweet Pea grins to himself. Completely empty. Just how he had hoped it would be. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulls out his wallet. The old man waiting for him at the register is too familiar to not grin again. Sweet Pea, although he'd never admit it, has spent many long nights under this very roof talking to him.

"Sweet Pea? How’re ya’ doing kid!" Pop never fails to set his mind on ease.

The old man peers at him with concern but the smile never leaves his face.

"Rough day," Sweet Pea runs a hand through his dark brown hair, "just taking a lot of crap from all you northsiders lately."

Pop laughs- a big belly laugh- and writes down an order before Sweet Pea tells him what he wants. It's not like it would make a difference whether or not the tall Serpent had answered. He orders the same thing everytime; a strawberry milkshake and curly fries.

"You just need some good food, boy. Go sit down and I'll have someone bring it over when it's done."

Sweet Pea nods, pulling out a ten to pay with but the jolly old man just shoos him to an empty booth. Pop sees a lot more than he lets on. When a kid only has a ten in his wallet- and you live in a place where sometimes the only way to get yourself out of a problem is cash- you don't take the money. What's the loss? Eight-fifty and a home cooked meal? That’s worth it any day.

Sweet Pea, sitting down in the booth, lets his eyes wander all around the retro diner. He's always felt at home at Pop's, more so than in his own home. It's warm with that ‘you belong here’ kind of atmosphere. It's been his hideaway for some time now. Whenever he has a rough day he just sinks low into a booth and lets the world keep going without him for a little while.

Today had been no exception to that. Some arrogant northsider had been running around the southside with a can of red spray paint. Needless to say, the bruise forming under his eye is hard to miss. He wonders why Pop didn't mention it.

"Hey, Pop said these were yours," Sweet Pea's head snaps up at the sound of a sweet voice.

A young waitress, about his age, stands in front of him, a tray with a strawberry milkshake and curly fries in her hands. For a moment he's frozen, staring into the most beautiful eyes he has ever seen. They're wide and bright, nowhere near as afraid as most are when they see him. She has a huge smile on her face; like she's actually happy to be working the midnight shift on a Friday if only because she had wanted to see him.

He feels his shoulders relaxing and snaps himself out of his daze. She's just some stupid northsider. She hates him. He has to hate her. Yet, when she places the milkshake and fries on the table and turns to leave, his eyes never leave her retreating figure. He shakes his head when she disappears around the corner. A northsider and a southsider- a Serpent- would never happen. Especially not with him. Anything star crossed is just too much work for his already hellish life.

He goes to take a sip of his milkshake when he stops abruptly. There, on the whip cream, are two cherries and a piece of red licorice in the shape of a simple smile. What on earth? Sweet Pea can't tear his eyes from the ice cream in front of him, he tries but he can't stop the small grin that forms on his face. He knows the cute waitress from before had something to do with this.

Speaking of which, a musical giggle interrupts his staring competition with the ice cream. He quickly glances up in time to see her half hidden by the counter and a wall that leads to the kitchen. She has a hand over mouth to try to cover up the onslaught of laughs but it's half-hearted; she's genuinely pleased with herself for the little gift she left for him. His heart beats faster when he catches her eyes and she nods her head at him, a breathtaking smile on her face.

He doesn't know why he does it- nor does he know he's doing it until it's done- but he winks at her and mouths a thank you. Her cheeks flame with a blush and her doe eyes widen again before she scurries back into the kitchen. Picking up a fry, Sweet Pea just laughs to himself.

However, those, too, are quick to end. What is he doing? Flirting with a northern girl? That's not only a death sentence for himself but for her as well. But why would that even matter? He doesn't care about her. He'll never care about her. He can't care about her. He talks himself out of it, or at least he tries his hardest to. In the back of his mind, though, he can still see her eyes.

Sweet Pea runs another agitated hand through his hair, glancing out the window and into the night. Beyond the red glow of the diner the stars are shining brightly. Of course, that brings his mind back to the waitress. He sighs to himself, clenching his jaw as his heart thumps much too hard. Nothing is working; this is hopeless.

"Uh," the same melodic voice brings his attention to the same pretty girl who stands once more in front of his booth, "so I'm on my break and I was wondering if I could sit here. I wouldn't bother you or anything I just- this booth has the best view."

Sweet Pea raises an eyebrow at her request but nonetheless answers, "If you want."

"Thanks!"

With that the girl slides into the other side of the red leather booth and leans her head on the window. Sweet Pea watches with visible amusement as she starts tapping out a sporadic rhythm on the table top, wondering where her mind is at this very moment. His is on her, the spotlight now fully shining over the northsider. He can feel the smile coming back again but doesn't bother to hide it this time. Something about her makes him ready to do anything to make her laugh- or to even just make sure she keeps tapping to her own little beat- but he doesn't know why.

"Thank you for the milkshake. Made my night." The words are out of his lips before he can stop them, a light blush to accompany them on his cheeks.

Her head bounces up, the smile already on her lips, "you looked like you needed it. And I finally found where Pop hid the licorice from me!"

This time he laughs out right. He can't help it, the girl is too innocent and beautiful to not lose himself in the moment. He wants to deny the connection that he feels with her, and northside girl, but he can't anymore.

"Why'd he do that?"

She runs a hand over her face, yawning before answering, "because I had a bad habit of giving them to all the little kids who came in here. I couldn't help it! They were so dang cute!"

Sweet Pea watches as she leans her head on the window again, closing her eyes for a moment. She looks as tired as he feels, striking a protective nerve in him. Maybe that's why he pushes his fries towards her. He's not that hungry and he'd rather she ate something. She looks like she could use the energy.

She looks like she's about to protest but Sweet Pea cuts her off, "just eat them, baby."

Her eyes widen but she takes them anyway. In the silence, Sweet Pea takes the time to close his eyes and take a breath. His face is killing him and he knows his knuckles aren't looking much better. He's exhausted but it's not like going home will give him any solace. He has more responsibility there than anywhere else. He just wants to escape for a minute.

"Are you okay?" Her sweet voice- now laced with worry- washes over him.

Sweet Pea glances at the girl sitting across from him. Her eyes look concerned, trained on the purple bruise under his eye. She reaches over the table, her fingertips brushing her over the mark on his face. He holds his breath, his eyes never leaving her as she traces her soft fingers on his skin.

"I'm okay. It doesn't matter anyway." He gently grabs her hand, placing it back on the table.

He wanted her to keep her hand there- he really did- but she had to move it. She can’t get attached to him. He can’t let her.

"Yes it does," the waitress sneakily pulls the strawberry milk towards her, stealing a sip, "you're hurt and that matters to me."

Sweet Pea smiles as he watches her drink his milkshake. If it was anyone else they'd be missing a few fingers by now but he sees the way her eyes sparkle with humour and delight as she sneaks sips. It's adorable. He hates it. Well, he wants to hate it.

"You don't even know my name," he pops one of the cherries into his mouth, winking at her if only to see her burst into color again.

"That's an easy solution," she wiggles her way out of the booth and stands in front of him for the third time that night, much to his amusement, "hi, I'm y/n! What's your name?"

He leans back, stretching his arms across the back of the booth as he takes her in. A yellow Pop's t-shirt, a pair of yellow rubber boots, and two shining eyes. There's no way he can deny the way his heart beats faster looking at her wide smile. He reaches a large hand out, taking her smaller one and shaking it once.

"Sweet Pea. Just call me Sweet Pea."

She giggles and nods her head, causing butterflies to erupt in his chest. She glances to the clock on the wall and lets go of his hand quickly.

"Crap! I'm back on! Hey, I'll catch you around soon I hope. I work Fridays! Bye Sweets!"

He shakes his head, the mirth clear in his eyes, as she scrambles to get back behind the counter. With that he stands up, shooting her one last smile, before walking back into the darkness that abides in Riverdale. He'll deny it to anyone who asks but he knows he'll be back next Friday.

[miraculouscontent]

Didn’t Need Burrow (August 7th-September 13th)

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t Need Burrow: Ladybug and Chat Noir will be asked to participate in judging a competition that Marinette and Adrien are both a part of. Ladybug will want to vote for herself as Marinette, but Tikki will tell her(once detransformed and while she is snacking) that she can’t because then people will know that Marinette is Ladybug. Chat Noir, meanwhile, will freely vote for Adrien with no repercussions or drawbacks, and Adrien will end up winning the competition. Marinette will admit that she was “so silly” to even think of voting for herself, especially since “Adrien needs the award more so that I do” despite being rich, white, male, and “perfect”(oh, I’m sorry, “purrfect”!), since all of Marinette’s legitimate problems of anxiety, dyspraxia, and the like get thrown out the window because the writers’ perfect sunshine boy incel stand-in has a “saaad home life!”, and Marinette needs to give him pity and put his feelings above his rather than wish for her own success. Cuz Girl Power.

tbh, given the leaks script, I’d reverse that and saying that Adrien voted for LadyNoir as Couple of the Year.

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t Need Burrow: Marinette and Adrien will reveal their identities, and Marinette actually WILL be disappointed that the boy who goofed off in fights and didn’t take no for an answer is none other than her perfect modeling celebrity crush. However, rather than this being a point towards Adrien needing to learn how to improve himself and accept Marinette’s feelings, this scene is used to make HER look bad(because of course it is) and she is blamed for expecting Adrien to be perfect(despite being encouraged and told to see him as such), and told that she should be happy that Chat was hitting on her even when she didn’t like it or it got in the way of battle plans, likely by Alya, because it was her true love under the mask all along. Eventually she “learns her lesson”(ick) and comes to accept Adrichat for who he is, warts and all. Bonus if she has a flashback to when Chat said “if you saw me without my mask you wouldn’t be able to resist me” as she realizes that he was right.

Didn’t Need Burrow? More like “Didn’t Need to Think About This”

i hate it

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: Luka will be Chat Blanc "2.0"

But Luka doesn’t have Chat-level favoritism going so Bunnyx won’t be there to defend him from consequences.

Anonymous asked:

We will have Ladybug!Alya in Marinette's akumatization episode. Obviously everyone would think that she is "better" than "old" Ladybug. (Bonus points if Ladybug!Alya don't "alienate" Chat Noir, mostly by catering to his whims)

Oh, of course! No one will miss the “old” Ladybug.

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: Bob Roth is akumatized into Rip Off, a supervillain with power to copy anything he sees (including powers of heroes)

Okay but that’s genius.

(I know we already had it in “Miraculer” but I like this more.)

Anonymous asked:

DNB: Now that Luka knows their identities, he will push the Love Square in a romantic manner. Stans would be totally fine with this because it doesn't interfere with their endgame :)

Well, obviously!

I’m just waiting for them to basically say that the secret identities don’t matter and, because they like one side, also means they like the other side.

Because forget nuance, am I right?

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: In the end, (after Adrienette gets together) Narrator reveals himself (herself?) as Alya with words "that's how I helped my bestie [Marinette] get a relationship with love of her life [Adrien]" or something similar.

wait, Alya, are you filming a Ladybug biography

why did you include all the humilation

why

That explains her making herself look good though.

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: Luka will finally reveal that he knows Heroes' secret identities... to Alya, who obviously decide to hide from Marinette that Luka knows her identity (Bonus Points if reason provided by Alya why she is doing this is utterly ridiculous)

AAAAAAAAAAAA

I guess Luka would have to realize that Alya knows. Bonus if he tells her Chat’s identity too so love square shipping can commence.

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: "Knitting Fairy" will be name of Marinette's akumatized form.

Can you say “reused design”? I certainly can, we’re used to it.

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t Need Burrow:

Luka keeping his knowledge about the identities (esp. Ladybug’s) will somehow blow up in a way for the writers to paint him in a bad light, probably ending with Marinette not trusting him. (As well as no hint of irony that Adrien did the same thing for completely selfish reasons in Chat Blanc).

MiraculousMX: Platonic soulmates!

us: Source??

Anonymous asked:

DNB: If LS gets reversed, Adrien complains about Marinette having other friends. Not just being friends with Luka or any other guys, but friends PERIOD, showing the same jealousy/desire for his 'love interest' to be isolated as Chat Noir. These MASSIVE RED FLAGS are treated as Just More Innocent Sadrien Things, because he's sOoOoOo Sad and SoOoOoO Lonely~

Oh god, now I had an awful thought that this is where Adrien getting jealous of Luka, and Luka feels bad/”knows what’s best” so he either ditches Marinette/finds an excuse to leave or makes sure that Adrien gets his time with her.

Because it’s the love square so it’s “important” that Marinette spend time with Adrien.

Anonymous asked:

Dnb: assuming the Senti-Adrien theory is true, in the season finale, Viperion joins the fight, stops SM from using the ladybug an cat miraculi by going back in time only to use them by himself, wishing for Adrien to be a real boy (and love Marinette). Of course Luka needs to give something in exchange, worst case scenario, his life.

That got really dark.

Though tbh with how much they push Luka and Marinette around, one of them will probably have to give up something huge for Adrien (they both already sacrificed their relationship, so--).

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: If Chat Noir joins Shadow Moth then he is treated by both Gabriel and Heroes as his greatest asset, even through he is still complete joke that is defeated by rest of Heroes faster than Mr Pigeon in "Timetagger". (Bonus points if Heroes defeat him by "Backhand Offhand", Offscreen or he is defeated by "Friendly Fire" from Akuma of the Week due to his own stupidity)

tbh I could probably do more sad math with “how often Chat Noir/Cataclysm is useless,” bonus if it’s put up against characters/Ladybug stroking his ego.

Anonymous asked:

DNB: Adrien's fears concerning Ladybug are made more explicit through a nightmare/vision (possibly akuma-induced) of Ladybug calling him unreliable/saying she doesn't need him anymore because she has partners she can actually COUNT on. Naturally, this is treated as Pure Sadrien Hours rather than a fair critique. Bonus if he ditches/forces her to beg for his assistance AGAIN to soothe his poor bruised baby ego.

*“Malediktator” flashbacks, but Adrien instead of Chloe*

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Adrien/Chat Noir skips out on a fight/akuma attack for some spiteful, selfish reason or another. Ladybug handles it without him, either completely through her own skill or with help from Rena/other heroes. Adrien then angsts about 'not being needed', with Marinette's 'Mistake of the Day' being that she didn't cater to his pity party due to being too busy DOING HER DAMNED JOB.

me seeing that one leaked script where they talk about how Chat/Cataclysm would make things easier: *sigh*

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Plagg will encourage Adrien to act even more selfishly, skipping more battles and being even brattier. This is so his stans can blame Plagg for being 'a bad influence' on their perfect angel, even when it's clear the two of them are on the same wavelength. Oooh, he's twisting his rubber arm; how AWFUL--! Adrien would NEVER do all these Awful Things he's already done if he didn't have Plagg~! What a bad kitty~!

“rubber arm” jdfkgjndfjgfg

tbh Plagg already is super laidback and doesn’t really like transforming/complains about going into battle, so this isn’t much of a stretch.

Anonymous asked:

DNB: "Gabriel Agreste" or other episodes will reveal that Gabriel flew many, if not ALL of the same Red Flags his son displays on a regular basis. The narrative treats this as though this makes Gabriel more 'sweet, sad and sympathetic' rather than illustrating that both of them are dangerously entitled and generally awful.

This sounded really intriguing as a sort of “apple doesn’t fall far from the tree” thing until that last sentence kicked in.

That’s damn accurate to what they’d do too, ugh.

Anonymous asked:

DNB: Plagg is the one that discovers that Gabriel is Hawk/Shadowmoth, but is forcibly sworn to silence by Adrien. Bonus if Adrien somehow gives this command without learning what Plagg is trying to tell him -- i.e. he get irritated and orders Plagg to shut up in a way that bars him from EVER saying what he was attempting to say -- so that Adrien's stans can claim it was all a big misunderstanding and blame Plagg entirely for it. Or Marinette. Somehow.

Oh oh oh!

Alternatively, Adrien silences Plagg without realizing that he has that kind of power (like saying, “you can’t tell anyone!” and we see the magic hit Plagg’s mouth), so the fandom can say, “HE DOESN’T KNOOOW THAT HE DID IT.”

Anonymous asked:

dntb: Luka is gonna be villianised in some way for not telling Marinette he knows the identities of both of them

Meanwhile, Alya, slipping the bouncer her free pass.

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: After one of the kwamis ​​makes one snickering comment too many, Marinette snaps and tells them all to shut up (with obvious outcome). Narrative obviously equals it to scene between Gabriel and Noroo from "Sandboy" (Bonus Points if Narrative deems Marinette worse than Gabriel, because "Gabriel forbid Noroo from talking as joke")

oh my goooooood

Marinette: *snaps because she’s stressed out*

the fandom: SHE SO MEAN!!! ;o;

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: Adrien's reveal as Sentimonster just for additional souce of "sad points" for him

this DNB: i am inevitable

mystic-lionroar asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: The writers' Status-Quo allergy kicks in when someone very pointedly implies Chloe, Lila and/or Gabriel work for Hawk Moth with how many Akumas they tend to cause... only to get reminded point blank that "Hawk Moth is the sole one responsible for this mess, no one else". Cue two episodes later, both the characters and the writers' memories of this scene are erased. What erased it? ╰( ･ ᗜ ･ )╯Why, Marinette can be held responsible for this one, of course! (Me: (ノಠ益ಠ)ノ彡┻━┻)

╰（‵□′）╯

OH MY GOOOOD

“Crocoduel” also basically already blamed Marinette for two akumatizations so at this point we’re just waiting.

Anonymous asked:

DNB: To further cement the whole 'destined to be' shlock, after the shock of the eventual reveal wears off, we get a call back to how frequently Chat Noir told Ladybug that they were meant for each other and that she 'was the only one who didn't see it'. Marinette agrees that she was silly and foolish for not recognizing it sooner, parroting Adrien's bullshit in order to further cement the notion that she's HAPPILY accepting her 'fate' to be nothing more than his personal prize.

You can’t see it but I have my head in my hands in grief.

Anonymous asked:

DNB: Adrien's gross sense of entitlement towards Ladybug will become even more explicit, with him angrily ranting about how he DESERVES to 'get the girl'. No matter how awful and nasty he gets, the narrative continues to treat him as though he's 100% right to be pissed off at her for DARING to have agency or thinking she has a say in things. As clearly, the biggest mistake Marinette has ever made is thinking she gets to have Opinions or make her own decisions. G-girl power...?

Marinette needing to be constantly told what’s best for her by other people and it’s okay because she needs to accept+follow all opinions.

end me

Anonymous asked:

DNB: The double standard between Adrien and other characters will be more noticeable. Adrien will still be put on a pedestal.

Because no one will notice Adrien if they didn’t put him on a metaphorical and physical pedastal.

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: Foxy Cat and CaraBug

omg Fox Adrien.is one of the worst hero choices I’ve ever heard fjdgjfjdglfkdg

I could at least see why Marinette thought that Adrien fit the snake since the narrative gushes for him so hard.

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t Need Burrow: As a result of being written by a straight white male writing team, the show starts to use Marinette’s girliness against her. From her love of pink being mocked to the kwamis admitting(in the spirit of another DNB) that they don’t respect Marinette because she’s “too girly”, to her fashion designing being treated as a cutesy but ultimately fickle pastime(in the spirit that all teenage girls’ interests are treated), the show absolutely throws Girl Power out the window in favor of giving Marinette absolute hell for daring to present herself in a traditionally feminine way, treating her femininity as the butt of a joke that no one is laughing at. Bonus points of someone says(or even outright tells her to her face) that she’s “such a girl”, as if that’s supposed to be an insult. Alternatively, this happens to Rose instead of Marinette, as she’s just as girly if not more so than her, or it happens to both of them(regardless of whether or not it’s at the same time).

WOOOOW

I mean, honestly, yeah.

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t Need Burrow: Things other characters did that were bad will be retconned into things that Marinette did instead, or will otherwise be retconned into being her fault, no matter how improbable or contradictory. Meanwhile, bad things characters did to Marinette or good things characters did FOR Marinette will be retconned into nonexistence.

I MEAN THEY BLAMED MARINETTE FOR “SILENCER” SO--

MATTER OF TIME.

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: Simultaneous Akumatization of Manon, Chris, Ella and Etta, obviously when they are babysat by Marinette, because otherwise ML Writers wouldn't be able to paint it as Marinette's fault

oh god

please no

I mean, not even just to blame Marinette for it, but I can’t even stand these kids when they’re on their own, MUCH LESS TOGETHER.

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: If Adrien gets akumatized, then it would be just Chat Blanc with shoulder pads and crown

Is this a reference to my Miracle Queen post?

Because yes.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't need burrow: In Hack-San Chat Noir will pull a Sentibubler and refuse to listen to Alya with the Ladybug Miraculous as he doesn't have a brain unless he can progress the not so progressive four-sided Hellfire, which is actually still the best-case-scenario. I mean he could just not come at all, since he's only there to flirt with and seduce Ladybug with unfunny jokes.

Anonymous asked:

DNB: Adrien causes problems because of Alyabug.

ugggggh

Anonymous asked:

DNB: Alya will immediately have access to things like the creation of charms despite how long it took for Marinette to be able to do that.

Wait--

If she doesn’t, did they literally just give Alya the ladybug miraculous because they knew that Markov wouldn’t have a way of hiding the amulet on him and they didn’t feel like putting it on his model???

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t Need Burrow: Alya’s Ladybug name is “Coccinelle” aka “Ladybug” in French. Or something equally lazy such as The Red Spotted One or the Scarlett Beetle. Even if it sounds cool at first glance, it will ultimately boil down to a plain and obvious name, because apparently EVERY superhero’s name has to so blatantly relate to the animal their Miraculous is based off of. For some reason. Somehow. -_-

fhkgjfdkgdfg okay but “The Red Spotted One” made me laugh.

Anonymous asked:

Hack-San DNB’s:

• Chat Noir will be upset that Ladybug trusted her miraculous to someone else.

• There will be a comment on how Alya was a just as good, if not better Ladybug than Marinette.

• Alya’s performance as LB will be used as another instance to show Marinette made the ‘right choice’ telling her her identity.

• Using the Horse to teleport back instead giving the earrings to Alya will not be mentioned as an option.

• Scene of Adrichat being sad about ‘feeling replaced’.

Especially on that “comment that Alya is just as good, if not better,” one, it probably won’t even be used as a reassurance for Marinette like, “oh, that’s good to know that I’m not the only one who can be Ladybug,” it’ll just be praise for Alya.

Anonymous asked:

Hack-San DNB: Chat Noir gets angry with LB for not telling him she was leaving & she has to apologize for it.

(Despite making sure there was a backup Ladybug to protect Paris, unlike Chat in the NY special who left the city completely unprotected).

Convenient.

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: "Dearest Family" (episode where both of Marinette's parents are akumatized) will be about Marinette learning "true value" of Chat Noir

Either that or incorporating Adrien into the family.

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: Psycomedian will be blatant Joker rip-off

You can just say “all akuma in the season will either be rip-offs of themselves or past akuma,” it’s okay. :P

Anonymous asked:

Another DNB for Hack-San, since we see Jagged Stone in the trailer, so if they show it..:

The “most precious possession” of Jagged’s will be Fang and not, y’know, either of his children.

I missed that trailer.

Honestly there could be some funny moments with the concept, but if Jagged is the only joke made about it then yes, I will be very bitter.

Alternatively, Jagged picks his guitar instead.

Anonymous asked:

DNB: In the Alyabug episode, Alya will either be Practically Perfect In Every Way™, or will royally screw up in a way that will somehow lead to Marinette. Either way, Cat Noir will flirt with the new Ladybug, or pull a Sentibubbler. Or both. There may or may not be a comment about how Alyabug's costume is so much better than Marinette's despite being a fashion designer.

dkfgkjdfgjf I adore how this whole thing is just, “there’s so many ways it could go wrong!”

[marmosa]

you’re no fun.

Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Word count: 4k

Warnings: none, i barely proof read this so maybe shitty writing?

A/N: i wrote this for my friend after she pitched me the idea, so this one goes out to her <3 i’m not too confident with this piece but i really do like the second half. hope you guys enjoy :)

***

“We are not talking about this again.”

“Oh come on [y/n], don’t be like that!”

“Fred, I’ve already told you a million times, I’m not telling you who I want to ask me to the ball and I’m most certainly not telling you who I fancy,” [y/n] scoffed, tightening her grip on the books cradled to her chest.

“You’re no fun,” Fred huffed, slouching his shoulders and finally falling back into step with her, “you know if you just told me I could get him to ask you-,”

“I’m quite literally seconds away from hexing you and getting myself banned from the ball all together, don’t try your luck Weasley,” [y/n] narrowed her eyes, the threat ever present in her words.  

“That is the most Slytherin thing you’ve ever said,” Fred paused, a shit-eating grin pulling onto his lips, “Don’t tell me you want some stuck up bad mouther to ask you to the ball?”

[y/n] stopped in her tracks and looked at him an expression so surprised she might as well have been staring at one of the silly little creatures Lovegood was always going on about, “And so what if I did? What’s it to you?”

Her answer seemed to have taken Fred aback as pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, trying to think of a reply. It was [y/n]’s turn to smirk as she chuckled to herself, proud she’d been able to stun him into silence, “Finally gave up, huh?”

As soon as the words left her mouth she was quick to regret it, Fred snapping back to reality, “You honestly think that was going to stop me? I am going to watch you like a Hyppogriff watches its lunch, I’ll get my answer whether you like it or not.”

“Yeah, yeah, keep on dreaming Weasley,” she hummed, trying not to let on that she was just as amused as he was hoping she’d be, “I’ll see you later, Fred.”

“Adieu!” He called from down the hall as he sprinted to make it to his next class on time after insisting on walking her to class.

“Adieu,” she muttered to herself, rolling her eyes in a feeble attempt to sooth the rising pace of her heart.

***

“I think I’ve figured it out.”

[y/n] groaned loudly and banged her head forward onto the table as Fred slid into the seat next to her. She lolled her head to the side and glared up at him, which he ignored and returned the sentiment with a grin.

“He’s a Gryffindor,” Fred claimed triumphantly, his grin only growing wider when [y/n]’s eyes nearly popped out of her head, “So Tessa didn’t lie to me!”

“Of course she told you, oh my god,” [y/n] turned her face back towards the table to hide her panicked expression.

“Well not everything, that was the only hint she gave me if it makes you feel better,” Fred shrugged, noticing her pinched brows and clenched hands in her lap.

“Oh thank the heavens,” she exhaled deeply, sitting back up and digging her palms into her eyes, “you nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“Why’s that? Scared I’m gonna tell him?” Fred teased, poking her in the side.

She swat his hand away and passed him a deadpan stare, “As if, you wouldn’t do it if I asked you not to.”

Fred’s cheeks tinged red which he quickly tried to hide as he tipped his chin up, crossing his arms over his chest, “that’s entirely not true.”

“Whatever you say Freddie,” [y/n] hummed, chuckling to herself and turning back to her papers.

“Say, have you gotten your dress yet? Tessa told me you were gonna go regardless of a partner,” Fred questioned, leaning his cheek onto his balled up fist, a small smile pulling onto his lips when she looked over at him with an excited glint in her eyes.

“It did! Wanna see it? I can show you now, potions work can wait,” She squealed, shutting her books and shoving her papers into her bag, “let’s go!”

[y/n] grabbed Fred’s hand and dragged him out of the Great Hall, pulling him along for most of the way until they reached the staircases. Fred looked down at her with a soft smile as she rambled on about the detailing and the pretty colors of the gown, an endearing look plastered on his face.

“Wait-!” [y/n] exclaimed as they stopped outside the dormitory entrance, the painting watching them both with nosy interest, “I can’t show you yet, it has to be a surprise for the actual ball!”

“Well then why the bloody hell did you drag me all the way out here?” Fred whined, pouting and reaching forward to poke her side again.

She swat at his hands again, “would you cut that out! Bloody hell, you’re dance partner is going to hate you if this is how you’re gonna treat her.”

“Well the jokes on you, I don’t have a dance partner,” Fred huffed, crossing his arms and marching off in the opposite direction.

“Wait, you don’t?” [y/n] asked incredulously, jogging to catch up with him, “why haven’t you asked her yet?

Fred pursed his lips and avoided her curious gaze, “because I’m worried she’s not going to say yes,” he admit quietly.

“I know it’s not fair of me to ask but who did you even have in mind, I might know if she’ll say yes! I frankly know far more than I’d like to about other people’s romantic endeavors, so I might have an answer,” [y/n] explained, looking up at him with eyes full of hope, her nerves hidden beneath still biting at her insides.

Fred swallowed his heartbeat and shrugged, trying his absolute best to calm the red starting to flush his face, “Since I’m not a stubborn git like you,” he paused as she scoffed jokingly, “I was thinking of asking,” his eyes scanned the hallway as he struggled to find an answer that wasn’t the girl standing by his side, his brain finally digging up a person, “Angelina. Yeah, I was thinking of asking Johnson.”

[y/n]’s heart sank to the bottom of her chest, a gaping hole starting to form where her heart had previously been, “Oh. Well, I know Angelina hasn’t take a particular fancy to anyone, so you should be all set. I can always ask her what she thinks of you too, if you want a more solid answer,” [y/n] muttered, trying her best to maintain whatever resolve she was clinging to that kept her tears at bay.

Fred noted the way she sunk into herself and tightened her grip around her books, the light bulb in his head flickering to life- was she upset?

“Thank you for the, uh, offer. I might just take you up on it,” Fred chuckled softly, trying to ease his own emotions while searching for a possible answer as to why she could be upset over this. He’d have to ask Tessa later.

“Of course, well, I have to head off to my next class, see you around Fred,” She pulled a tight-lipped smile, turning on her heel and hopping onto the nearest staircase, leaving Fred alone as she was lifted to the upper floor.

“Well shit,” He cursed.

***

Three days had passed since the Fred’s crappy revelation and as far as [y/n] was concerned she felt no will to attend the next day. Fred had gone ahead and asked Angelina the way he said he would and she watched it happen during their study period to which she quickly made up an excuse to leave the scene.

Tessa had tried her absolute best to console her best friend but it was no use, she had gone through hell and back getting [y/n] to even agree to still attend the ball. Another boy had come to [y/n], but she politely declined, knowing that leading him on would have gotten her nowhere but in trouble.

“Excited to dance the night away tomorrow? I promise I’m a better partner than you’d think,” Tessa giggled, nudging [y/n] in the side.

[y/n] looked up from her hand that she was glaring at intently as she carefully painted her nails a pretty shade that one of their roommates had let her borrow, “excited as always. But you do know, I’m going to avoid you like the plague, right? I’m not ruining your night with Diana.”

“Oh please, she won’t die if I dance with you once!” Tessa rolled her eyes, falling back so she was splayed out over her bed,  “We’ve been dating for a year now, she won’t take it poorly.”

“Still, this is like a once in a moon opportunity. I don’t intend on ruining it,” [y/n] insisted, concrete in her conclusion.

“Goodness, fine! You’re such a hard-head. Just promise me you’ll at least try to have fun?” Tessa pleaded, sitting up to give [y/n] an serious look.

“Whatever soothes your soul,” [y/n] hummed, biting back a smile when Tessa rolled her eyes, falling back once more.

“You’re no fun,” Tessa groaned.

“Not the first time I’ve been told that.” [y/n] giggled.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, Fred says that to me a lot, he thinks I have a stick up my arse,”  [y/n] chuckled sadly, avoiding Tessa’s sympathetic gaze, “don’t look at me like that, I don’t want to think about it.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Tessa held her hands up defensively.

“Mhm, sure.”

“Shut up.”

“Gladly.”

***

“Tessa!”

Tessa came to a halt in the nearly empty hall, glancing over her shoulder with a confused look as she saw Fred racing towards her. She turned around completely to face him as he skid to a halt in front of her, her brows knit together as she wondered what he could possibly be tracking her down for the morning of the yule ball.

“Hey Fred, what seems to be the problem?”

“I, uh, wanted to ask you a question,” Fred explained through labored breathes as he leaned over, balancing his hands on his knees.

“Shoot.”

“When I told [y/n] that I was asking Angelina to the ball a couple days ago, she looked really upset. And I wasn’t quite sure what to make of so I wanted to ask if she’d told you what had happened?” Fred explained, his heart hammering against his chest.

Tessa’s face fell, a grimace pulling onto her features, “Fred...,” her voice trailed off.

“What?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t-,” Tessa sighed, grabbing his arm and pulling him to the side of hall to avoid the traffic of other students, “take a wild guess.”

“Well, the only answer I can think of is-,” his eyes widened as a feeling of panic set in, “-oh shit,” Fred felt sick.

“Who did you think that Gryffindor was? Why did you think she left the Great Hall when you asked Angelina? Why did you think she was fine all the way up until she’d found out you asked Angelina? Fred, you’re by no means stupid, but this has got to be the dumbest thing you’ve ever done,” Tessa frowned, not knowing whether to sympathize with his situation or be mad at him.

“I-,” Fred searched for an excuse, but came up blank, “I had no idea. What am I suppose to do now?”

“Well you certainly can’t drop Angelina, not on the morning of the ball. And I don’t think [y/n] is going to want to feel like a last minute option either,” Tessa sighed and shook her head, “I truly can’t offer you much advice here, I think you’re just gonna have to muscle this one out.”

“Yeah,” Fred muttered, dragging his hands down his face, “Thanks Tessa.”

“Mhm,” Tessa offered him a half-hearted smile, “Good luck.”

“Thanks, I’ll need it.”

***

“You look lovely,” [y/n] smiled softly at her best friend in the mirror, zipping up the back of her dress, “Diana is gonna love it.”

“She better, we picked it out together,” Tessa laughed, smoothing out the creases on the bodice.

“Well in that case, she most certainly will love it,” [y/n] beamed.

“Aside from me, look at yourself, you’re just as beautiful as I knew you would be when we took it out of the parcel last week,” Tessa grinned, turning around to face [y/n] who was practically glowing with joy.

“You flatter me,” [y/n] scoffed playfully, dusting off invisible particles off her shoulder, “but thank you.”

“Of course,” Tessa nodded, “you ready to go?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” [y/n] exhaled, rolling her shoulders to sooth the nerves prickling at her skin.

“Then off we go!” Tessa cheered, hooking elbows with [y/n].

The two girls made their way down the stairs towards the Great Hall, eventually splitting off near the entrance when Tessa had to go find Diana among the gaggle of Hufflepuff’s nearby. [y/n] waved bye to her friend, turning on her heel and heading down towards the two main staircases, her hands clutching her dress so tightly she was sure it was going to tear in her fingers.

At the bottom of the staircase stood Fred, George, Seamus, and Oliver all chatting up a storm as they waited for their dates to arrive and join them before heading into the venue. The group of boys suddenly fell quiet when a hushed whisper fell over some of the groups surrounding them, turning around to the source of the sudden change in atmosphere.

“Holy shit,” Fred gasped quietly.

[y/n] descended the stairs, her gown billowing behind her. She looked positively radiant in the soft lighting of the candle lit corridors, her hair done in a way that framed her face perfectly. She carried herself like a queen down the steps, the bodice holding her up like an ancient Greek statue.

“Dude,” George muttered, elbowing Fred lightly, “do you know who she came with?”

“No one, I think, I heard she rejected one of Slytherin heartthrob’s,” Seamus whistled under his breath, answering George in Fred’s place.

Fred couldn’t take his eyes off her, his mind reeling. They way she described the dress didn’t half encompass the way she looked wearing it. Maybe it was good thing she didn’t show him that day, he would have become a complete blubbering mess had she worn it then.

“Are you gonna go talk to her?” George urged, nudging Fred slightly.

Fred finally snapped out of his trance and turned back around, stuffing his hands in his pockets and shaking his head, “I asked Angelina to the ball. It wouldn’t be fair to her for me to start the night off with another girl.”

“That’s for certain, it’s a sure sad thing she came alone though,” Oliver noted, shaking his head.

“I heard it’s because the person she likes asked someone else.”

The boys turned their heads to see Angelina and Clover, Seamus’s date, walking over. Fred felt his heart only sink further when he saw just how lovely Angelina had done herself up for the night, knowing full well he wasn’t at all going to give what she’d come for.

“Is that so?” George hummed, glancing at his brother who looked downright ill, “Well let’s not jump to assumptions, maybe she’s just independent like that.”

“Good point, it’s just something I caught in the girls restroom,” Angelina shrugged, “You boys ready to head in?”

“Seamus and Fred can go on ahead, We’ll stay and wait for our dates,” Oliver nodded towards the doors leading to the Great Hall.

“You’re sure?” Seamus asked, hooking arms with Clover.

“Certain,” George concluded, “See you boys in a bit,” he reached over patting his brother’s back reassuringly.

“See you,” Fred smiled, hooking arms with Angelina, leading her inside.

***

[y/n] sat at a table alone, smiling to herself as she watched Tessa and Diana dance across the ballroom floor, trying to pick out her roommates and their dates while she sipped her punch. She fiddled idly with the folded fabric in her lap, rubbing the material between her fingers to occupy her mind.

“Are you certain you don’t want to dance with me?” Tessa exhaled, both her and Diana stumbling over to the table as the most recent song came to an end.

“I need a break anyway and you look bored to death over here, go have some fun!” Diana teased, plopping down in a seat and slipping off her heels.

“I promise I will not step on your toes,” Tessa reassured [y/n], extending her hand.

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” [y/n] rolled her eyes, taking her hand and rushing off to the dance floor.

The two girls swayed around the dance floor, giggling as they dipped and spun each other unexpectedly, thankfully avoiding each other toes as promised. The surrounding couples all seemed to be enjoying themselves as well, platonic, romantic, or otherwise. [y/n] was overwhelmed with thankfulness at having such kind and caring friends, especially at times like this.

“You know, I hate to be a party pooper,” Tessa started, dipping [y/n] and pulling her back up, “but Fred has been staring at you since the ball started.”

[y/n] felt her eyes go wide as she processed the admittance, looking around the seating area frantically, her mouth running dry when she locked eyes with Fred who was being less than conspicuous staring directly at her.

She snapped her gaze back to Tessa as the song came to an end, “I think I need a breath of fresh air, I won’t be gone long!”

Before Tessa could offer a reply, [y/n] was rushing off, dashing out of the crowd and out to a nearby balcony to get some cold winter air in her lungs and against her sticky skin.

Fred watched [y/n] run out of the Great hall, his brows pinching together as he wondered what could possibly be wrong. Before he could get too sucked into his thoughts, he felt a tap on his shoulders.

“Go to her,” Angelina demanded.

“What?”

“I’ve been watching you this entire night and the only other thing you’ve been doing aside from dancing has been staring at her. You’re a fool if you say otherwise,” Angelina deadpanned a-matter-a-factly.

“But I don’t want to leave-,”

“Oh please, you think you’re my only option? Don’t flatter yourself Weasley. Now go, before she talks herself into getting over you,” Angelina huffed, nodding her head in the direction [y/n] left.

“I’m sorry, and thank you,” Fred smiled, hopping out of his seat and running after [y/n].

***

[y/n] sat on one of the benches outside a little ways away from the Great Hall, far enough for some seclusion but still near enough to hear the music. She blinked back tears threatening to fall and ruin her makeup, frustrated with herself for getting worked up after having a great time with her best friend only moments ago.

“You’re a fool,” [y/n] muttered to herself, resting her forehead on her wrist, elbows balanced on her knees.

The cold ended up being just what she had need, the cool air blanketing her in the relief she’d wanted from the suffocatingly hot Hall. Her head snapped up as she heard footsteps approach, a panic setting in despite the relative safeness of campus.

“[y/n]?” A familiar voice called.

“Fred?” [y/n] replied confusedly, turning her head the opposite direction to fan at her eyes to hide the tears the were previously glistening there.

“Oh thank goodness it’s you,” He exhaled, skidding to a stop in front of her, “I was worried I had just bothered some couple getting it on.”

[y/n] scrunched her nose in disgust and felt a laugh bubble out from between her lips, “Hello to you too, Fred.”

Fred’s cheeks hued red, the color spreading to the tips of his ears, “Hey.”

“What’re you doing here? Didn’t you come with Angelina?” [y/n] questioned, cocking her head to the side.

“I did, but uhm, but plans changed,” Fred explained, struggling to piece together the smooth talker persona he usually sported.

“Changed? Well that’s not abnormal coming from you, Mr. spontaneous,” [y/n] teased.

“Yup, you’ve caught me,” Fred chuckled, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“I guess I have,” [y/n] hummed, “but, truly, what brought you out here?”

“Well, it’s a long story, okay, it’s actually a short story,” Fred started to ramble, unsure exactly how he was suppose to lead up to “hey I’m in love with you” in this particular situation, “I was stupid and I made a lot of mistakes and it shouldn’t have taken me so long to notice but it did and I desperately want to fix my mistakes and I don’t know how to without being direct at this point because explaining everything would take us forever but I like you [y/n]. More than I’d care to admit.”

[y/n] sat there stunned, her mind reeling as she processed his confession, the heat she’d come outside to cool quickly rushing back, “I-,”

“I would say that it’s okay if you don’t like me back but I did all the emotional maths and I put the pieces together after Tessa practically knocked the sense into me and I know I’m the Gryffindor you we’re talking about so you can’t say no unless Angelina was right and you did talk yourself out of liking me any-,” Fred continued on, his eyes anywhere but [y/n]’s face, before he felt her hands placed gently on his cheeks turning him to face her.

“Shut up and kiss me Weasley.”

A smitten smile pulled itself onto his lips which was quickly swallowed with [y/n]’s own lips. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her impossibly closer, relishing in the feeling of her lips against his and the soft patterns her thumbs traced across his freckled skin.

When they pulled away Fred couldn’t help himself but to break into laughter, swaying her side to side with him in excitement. She laughed giddily along with him, squealing delightfully when he picked her up and spun her around before quickly settling her back down on the snow dusted floor.

“I think now would be a good time to tell you that you look absolutely radiant tonight,” Fred sighed in a hushed tone, cupping her cheek in his palm

[y/n] looked down and pressed her lips together to hide her smile, suddenly shy of his admiration filled gaze. He chuckled and tipped her head back up to face him, “don’t get embarrassed on me now!”

“I’m not embarrassed! Just happy,” [y/n] shrugged, placing her hand over his wrist tenderly, squeezing gently.

“Well that’s good news, I’d be proper worried if it was anything else,” Fred laughed, the sound rumbling in his chest.

[y/n] rolled her eyes playfully at his comment, “I guess I should tell you that you also look quite lovely tonight too. Molly truly outdid herself.”

“Oooo someone thinks I’m handsome,” Fred wiggled his eyebrows.

“Hmph, you’ve gone and ruined it, leave me be,” [y/n] wrestled herself out of his grip, teasingly walking off.

“You’re no fun! Come back here,” Fred groaned, grabbing her wrist and tugging her back into his arms, “you hear that? I think they’re starting a new waltz.”

“Should we head back inside then?” [y/n] suggested, “it is kind of cold out here.”

“Nah, it’s cramped in there anyways,” Fred shook his head, shrugging off his robes and wrapping them around her shoulders, “that ‘ought to do it. So, [y/l/n], would you do me the honor of giving me this dance?”

“I most certainly would,” [y/n] smiled, taking his hand in hers and placing the other on his shoulder, “don’t step on my toes now.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, but no promises,” Fred grinned, placing his hand on her waist.

“Me neither,” [y/n] giggled, leaning forward to give him a chaste kiss as the music started.

“Hold on tight, I’m gonna give you the best dance of your night,” Fred declared, standing tall.

“Don’t let Tessa hear you she might kick your arse,” [y/n] warned him, giggling at the faux fear that washed over his face.

“Pish posh, she’ll survive the blow to her ego, now shut up and dance with me  [y/n].”

“Gladly, Freddie.”

[unholyplumpprincess]

Did You Just Bite Me?!

For @shortythescreen !

(Older content)

Summary:  In which Pennywise asks (read: demands) your attention in exchange to not make goldfish crackers out of your little sibling, and wants to play a little more than board games with you.

Reblogs > Likes! Please Reblog if you hit Like! :D

!!!Minors and ageless blogs dni or you will be blocked!!!

Fandom: It

Relationship: Pennywise/Reader

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, Blood, biting, grinding/dry humping, nothing really explicit here but it’s hella suggestive so? Uh Pennywise is a masochist.

Words: 1.1k

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To be in cahoots with an eldritch demon that feasted on the flesh of children and any flavor of fear, AND lived in the plentiful underground sewers was not an easy life. To be perfectly, perfectly fair, it hadn’t been your idea of ‘on purpose’ to BECOME one of the clown’s “friends” as he put it with saliva drooling down his chin. It had been an accident, a case of ‘my bad’, if you will.

And truly what a ‘my bad’ situation it had been.

Your younger sibling had been complaining about a monster under the bed or in the closet. Not wanting to hurt their feelings and remind them that they were ten and they KNEW monsters weren’t real, you crouched down to their level and smiled at them full of mischief and yelled, “Oh BOY, I SURE hope that if there IS a monster in here that they come have a PARTY in my room! Because this little BRAVE KNIGHT,“ You pause to pinch your sibling’s cheeks affectionately, beaming as they giggle. “-Will kick your butt otherwise!”

Maybe not the most sense-making thinking to say, but it HAD made your sibling laugh and shoo you away. And that should have been it, right? You should have gone to bed, no problems whatsoever, and listened to your music peacefully as you let your mind daydream. Eyes shut, lying on your bed with only the dim lights of your fairy lights to illuminate behind your eyelids.

Except wishing for such simplicity, was something foolish in Derry.

~Rest under the cut~

At some point you had drifted off into lalaland and had been awoken by your headphones being pulled off. At first you had mumbled for your sibling to go away, batting at them in the dark playfully until your fingers brushed silken fabric and a...puffball?

A giggly, goofy laugh had your eyes shooting open and a large hand smacking over your mouth. A gleeful voice follows ruby red lips and a pair of bright baby blues- face painted like...like a clown??? “Aw, I thought you invited me to a party? I LOVE parties! And you wouldn’t want to disappoint the clown, would you?”

His voice drops upon his last sentence, almost a growl, and you’re not sure when you had blacked out with fear or even when the routine of him showing up in your room at night went. But, in the end, your little sibling was out of its teeth! As long as you played his games.

At some point, the games went from scary like tag with a killer clown with him humming cryptic things as he tried to hunt you, or to simple things like you picking a board game. It’s like a switch could be flipped. You weren’t sure what had been going on until he had you pinned one day in an alley on your way home from work, nose tucked into the crook of your neck and snarling about how good you smelled. How you dripped with arousal. How you’d be so scared under him, yes you would-

Apparently flipping him and pinning him to the wall by his neck and snarling back that you weren’t playing these fucking games right now had activated a new frenzy.

Games that were new.

Games like the one you played now.  

Hide and seek.

Where if he found you, and oh he would find you he had promised, he got to play a new game. A game he picked and you would play.

You figured, hey, Scrabble wasn’t so bad for the third time in a row.

That isn’t what he meant.

You find that what you thought was lipstick on his cherry red lips does not budge when he forces your mouth to his. You find none of his makeup moves off, but instead you can feel with your tongue at the seam of his lip at the corners that there is a split there. You hardly focus on it when his hands grab your ass, tugging you closer to his hips urgently and you pull back.

A hand wraps around his neck, holding him firmly there. The game was simple enough, though unexpected. ‘Be mean to the clown’ he had gleefully shouted before smashing your lips together. ‘Punish me!’ he’d repeated yet again, and you supposed you could do that.

A snarl works its way from his lips, baring his now sharpened rows of teeth as his eyes bleed to golden. Your fingers trace up his throat, grabbing his jaw harshly and forcing it to the side the second his nails bite into your ass and he’s trying to yank you again. He can do so, easily, but you still put resistance and tense your thighs so he doesn’t get the grind he wants.

“You said this was your game, and I’m playing it. Exactly how you want.” You say calmly, your voice less breathless than you thought it would be. When he opens his mouth, you slap your hand firmly over it, aware of his frenzy of teeth lying just beneath. You briefly feel him nip at your palm, only skimming the sharpness across and missing any puncture. Brat. “And now you think you can try and bite me? That’s not very fair, Penny, I’m being a good sport.”

Your tone makes him growl under you again, a frenzied animal as his hips hump up against you. You feel something wet under you, but pay it no mind. Instead you focus on the pale expanse of his neck when he tries to shake off your hand, giving you a perfect moment to lean down.

The minute your teeth seal over the spot and you bite down, you move your hand from his mouth with great judgement. You feel his hips thrust up into yours, his hands finally making their way into your pants to sink his talons into the softness of your ass as you bite hard enough until you taste blood.

“Did you just BITE me, little thing?!” He all but cries out, his tone breathless and in disbelief. It’s such a funny tone for him that you pull back, sitting up on his hips with a grin across your lips and blood dotting the corner of your mouth.

“You bit me first.” You state as if you were talking about the weather. Watching as his eyes try to come into focus, looking all about your face before finally landing on your lips. One of his hands leaves your body to rest on the spot, face full of confusion, uncharacteristically looking...bashful.

You grin proudly when the gold from his eyes starts to bleed into blue, eyes averting from your face as he murmurs if you’ll do it again.

Atta clown.

[sunsetcurvetaintedhotdog]

Let’s Be Kids Again ☀︎

Summary: Reader is having an awful day but luckily Luke is there to help her.

Warning: Probably some language and bad grammar

Word count: 1,766

Honestly, two more weeks left of school, and these teachers don’t give a crap. “UGHH!!” I quickly stood up from my desk because if I keep looking at all the missing assignments and projects that I have to turn in I’m probably gonna lose my mind.

Lately, I’ve been feeling like work just keeps piling up and it’s a never-ending cycle of turning in twenty assignments by the end of the week and then still being behind on fifteen more. I should be out right now not stuck inside on a Saturday. I could’ve gone to the boy’s rehearsal and just sat there. But no here I am stuck in my bedroom with papers all over the place.

I hear a knock at my door “Sweetie Luke’s one the phone come downstairs.” I quickly open my door and bolt downstairs.

Luke and I are best friends although I don’t really like saying it because it reminds me of how much I don’t want to be friends with him. I want more. I’ve had a crush on him for a while now still trying to adapt to the new feeling. I’m not gonna say anything tho it will ruin our friendship if he doesn’t like me back and just make everything awkward between all of us.

“Hey” I heard Luke’s mom talking through the other line “Luke wash the dishes before you leave please I don’t know how you could live in your own filth” on the other side of the phone Luke rolled his eyes at his mother exaggeration, there was only three cups in the sink “yea, yea, ok”. I started giggling at his antics knowing exactly he’s only saying that so she could get off his back. He’s not really gonna do the dishes.

“Hey, ok so I was thinking we could do something tonight. Reg really wanted to go to the new carnival that just opened. Something about needing to get his future told I don’t know” he let out a sigh “what do you think?” As soon as I was about to say sure I remembered the nightmare of homework I have upstairs waiting for me. “Ugh i cant i have homework sorry Lu”

“Forget about homework you could do it another day” “Lu I can’t just forget about it it’s due in a few days” Luke is now pouting “So, you’ve done a lot over the year getting a few bad grades won’t harm you come on party pooper” suddenly a light bulb goes off in his head “Bet i can win you at bumper cars loser has to buy the other one food?” He was teasing her and he knew it. Since they were little they always did bets sometimes going to far as none of them wanted to lose. He knew she wasn’t gonna turn down a bet.

“I hate you. You know that” Luke smiled in victory. “Yes, i love you too” he said with the biggest smile ever. He loved hanging out with her. More at carnivals her unmatched energy always amazed him she was so energetic and he loved it. Someone had to keep up with him right..

“Ok find I’ll meet you at the carnival” “ok see you there” I placed the phone back on the wall and went upstairs to change. Once I was done I headed out but my dad stopped me. “Finished your homework already?” “Uh...um... yea didn’t have that much apparently” yea that was a lie but that was tomorrow’s problem. I walked out and headed to the carnival which was only a few blocks away from my house.

“Hey there trouble” ah trouble the infamous nickname that Alex gave me when we were 12. Luke had made a bet on whoever can scare Mrs. Frances, our 7th grade science teacher, the hardest got to name the their band. Because of me the bands name is Sunset Curve, a huge victory for me but I can’t say the same for Mrs. Frances. She had to eat lunch with a frog that day...ops... yea no I wasn’t sorry it was hilarious but if it wasn’t for me Sunset Curve would be named Bloody Devils cause Luke thought it was cool.

“Hey Al, oh I like your.....” I was cut off by Reggie putting his arms around me and Alex. “WHOS READY TO RIDE THE HORSES!!” Yea Reg has a thing for horses that explains ‘Home is Where my Horse is’.

“Reginald relax go get a corn dog or something” Bobby rolled his eyes at the over excited Reggie bouncing on one leg. He truly loved carnivals. “Ok I’ll be right back after the corn dog we have to get our future told I heard the one here is really accurate I want to know if I end up marrying Reese Witherspoon.”

“Ok guys what do you want to do first? Ferris wheel, go-carts, games, ...bumper cars...” I side glanced at Luke and he was already looking at me. “Oh your on” with that me and him were racing to the bumper car line bumping into each other once we got there. He quickly grabbed me by the waist so I wouldn’t fall on the other people. We were both laughing and smiling like idiots. “We should’ve walked” I said wiping my tears off my face. “Yea probably” he chuckled. “Ok so Al and Bobby get to choose who wins.” i said “Ok deal if I win you have to buy me the biggest ice cream cone they sell here” he said “Ok and if I win....um I want.... “ I looked around and the saw the big pretzel cart “The biggest pretzel they can make” “Deal” we did our handshake and turned around to stand in line.

“Ok Al, Bobby, focus you need to make sure you watch to see who wins” Luke said Alex and Bobby nodded and we were off into our own bumper cars. Me and Luke were bumping off each other and hitting other strangers cars. I think I might get a neck cramp. But it was really fun and I think I won. We got off giggling “ Ok so who is the lucky winner” I asked “Luke I’m never getting a car with you, y/n won” Alex said “yea totally destroyed you dude” Bobby added. Luke let out a snicker “yea please I let her win..” “sure you did bud” Bobby patted Luke on the back and went off to flirt with a girl he had seen earlier in the line. Reggie isn’t back so he might be stuffing his face with corn dogs. “And then there were three” I sighed. Alex turned around from walking in front of me and Luke “yea well make that two there is this really cute skater over there and I think I might go talk to him so peace out” he turned around and walked away. He quickly glanced back and winked at me “have fun”.

“Ok that makes two then, you up to take me on the pretzel offer” I asked Luke, he looked down at me with one of his gorgeous smiles that can brighten up the whole town. Geez why is he making it so hard not to fall in love with him. “Anything for you” he kissed the top of my head and we headed to the pretzel cart. We ordered and sat down on a bench to eat the pretzel. He took many bites but whatever he did pay for it. Still I won so I don’t see how it’s fair he got part of the prize, oh well. “So homework is stressful right?” he asked. I groaned “ugh yes I just wish I could be a kid so I wouldn’t have to do so much work and the only thing I would have to worry about is sleeping in nap time” I rested my head against his shoulder and he rested his against mine. “ Ok then, let’s be kids again then” I looked up at him confused “what?” “Let’s be kids again, let’s ride everything here and completely forget that we have responsibilities for tonight. How does that sound” he was practically buzzing now with excitement “I’m down” I said. “First one to throw up cleans the others room for a week” he said “Bet!”. We got up and starting riding everything that we could.

It’s been two hours and I’m waiting outside the boys bathroom with a water bottle for Luke. Can you guess who won. “Ugh that last ride really pulled some strings” he said. I giggled at him handing him the water bottle. “Up for one more tho” he groaned “depends, i don’t think my stomach can take anything else. “Ferris wheel?” I asked. He nodded and we headed there. Now getting into the ride we sat next to each other and the ride starting going up. The sky was a beautiful mix of pinks, reds, yellows, and blues. He wrapped his arm around my waist and I laid my head on his shoulder while we just admired the sunset. Well i did, I didn’t know that Luke wasn’t looking at the sunset he was looking at me like if I were the most beautiful painting he’s ever seen.

“Y/n...” i glanced back up and what he did next really surprised me. He pushed his lips against mines and I didn’t react I was frozen in place. He was about to pull away when I finally starting kissing back. He took his hand and put it on my cheek and I tangled my hands in his hair. This was amazing I always loved carnivals because of the adrenaline a ride gave you but this completely ruled out that feeling it felt passionate and warm. My stomach was doing flips and I was loving it, everything about this moment was just perfect.

When we finally pulled away we pressed our foreheads together still with our eyes closed “You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do that” he let out a shaky breath “then do it again” I whispered. He leaned back in to kiss me. This kiss went on a little longer and it was even more passionate than the one before if that was even possible. Now there was nothing stopping us we both know how we feel about each other and we can be together now.

Now not only do I have my best friend with me constantly but I think I might have found my soulmate. I am completely utterly in love with Luke Patterson.