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#And also mine at least keeps just throwing flowers at people and leaving
fixaidea · 1 year
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Plants for the chronic over-waterer
So you’ll often see guides and rec-lists for plants that require little water and attention, and just generally ‘thrive on neglect’. But what about us anxious, hovering plant people whose most common way of accidentally offing a plant is by over-loving and over-watering them?
(Before we get into it, let me preface this by the usual disclaimer: a plant’s water needs wildly depend on its environment. I live in the continental temperate zone of Europe, the average humidity level inside is 30-40%, so what I write may or may not apply to your conditions. Watch your plants closely - if you’re reading this post I know you would anyway - and proceed accordingly.)
Look no further, here’s a list of plants that are virtually impossible to over-water:
Fittonia sp.
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Fittonia are extreme divas in room conditions but perfect angels in a terrarium. They will not tolerate a missed watering day, they’ll immediately start to droop. If you’re lucky and you catch them in time they’ll perk up and go on like nothing happened, but the margin between this and irrevocable crisping is a slim one.
Ferns in general
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Of course the details of care depend on the species, but most ferns prefer shade and hate to dry out. I usually water all of mine twice a week, and so far they are doing okay.
Dionaea muscipula - Venus flytrap (and most carnivorous plants)
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Plants usually resort to eating animals when they live in bogs, where the soil is acidic and extremely poor in nutrients. What bogs also are, is wet, and so these plants need to literally stand in a pool of water all day, every day and are therefore quite literally impossible to over-water. (At least in the summer. Over-wintering depends on whether the plant is temperate or tropical.)
The only downside is that they are really sensitive to water quality. No minerals (and no fertilizer!) allowed, only rain or distilled water!
Marantha leuconeura
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Honestly I’d say the entire Maranthaceae counts, but I only have experience with Marantha, and I’m told the rest (like Calathea) are more difficult. These, once you get the water right (twice a week for me), aren’t that bad. They don’t need a lot of light either.
What you do have to keep in mind, is to give them soft water - like collected rain water. They are sensitive to the minerals in the tap water and since they can’t properly secrete them, they’ll store them away in the tips of their leaves, which will thus crisp up.
Jewel orchids
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The one I have (Macodes petola) does well in a shadier spot, in normal room conditions. I mean I do run a humidifier once a day, but it’s not in a terrarium. It’d do well in one though, so if you’re looking to furnish a terrarium, this is a good choice. The only thing you gotta keep in mind if you keep it out in your room is to always keep the soil moist.
Mimosa pudica
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This is a fun and interesting plant, what with the cute moving leaves, but it is the divaest of all divas. On a sunny, dry summer day it may have to be watered twice a day, and it’ll go into hysterics, crisp up and throw leaves if you’re late by five minutes. The good news is that as long as you do get around to watering it, it’ll bring new shoots and keep growing, it’ll just litter your room with dead leaves in protest.
It also prefers lots of light.
Spathipyllum sp. - Peace Lily
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Like ferns, these do well in shadier spots. If exposed to too much light, they’ll keep bringing small, light green leaves, but they’ll flower regularly. (They feel like their lives are in danger so they hurry to procreate before the end.) In the winter they need to be watered about once a week, in the summer more like every two days.
The nice thing about them is that they are very vocal about their needs but, unlike the Mimosa and the Fittonia, don’t immediately, irrevocably crisp up, they’ll just droop. Water them and they’ll perk right back up.
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friedunicornstudio · 4 years
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Just wanted to just leave these perfectly normal Byleths here, don’t mind me.
(Byleth’s mug was a gift from Leonie)
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mrpenguinpants · 3 years
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Razor:  Jealous HCs
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Hey anon!! As much frustration I hold for crippling oblivious couples, I also love the trope so much. Plus I adore Razor. Even though I try to not call Razor a dog, I still google “jealous dog traits”. Also, I found out both Hanniejji and I secretly HCs Bennet is friends with Razor and Fischl. If genshin won’t give me character interactions then I’ll write it myself.
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Semi Part 1: General HCs
Semi Part 2: Pre-Relationship HCs
Semi Part 3: Cuddle HCs
[Masterlist]
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[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.
 @mikeysbike @unionwitch @musekala @sunnshiii @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz @dai-tsukki-desu @thicmitten @nonniechan @htnicayh @genshins1mpact @morthecreator @ aanne2601 @hanniejji​
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Razor:  Jealous HCs
Bennet and Fischl are both foaming at the mouth at how deeply in love you BOTH are and yet you’re both equally blind. Fischl wants to grab you by the shoulders and yell at you that Razor returns your feelings and you need to stop doing whatever it is you’re doing. A sad Razor looks like a kicked puppy and even she can’t handle it. But Razor absolutely refuses for anyone to confess for him because he believes that you might just genuinely be uninterested in him. Plus, it wouldn’t feel right if he couldn’t confess himself. It’s his first love, this is important to him.
Bennet thinks it’s really sweet that his friend is in love. Even if he does get a bit pouty that whenever he get’s hurt, Razor will ask if he’s alright and leave it at that. But if you accidently trip Razor is already at your side and fussing over you. Bennet uses this as physical proof that yes, your feelings are returned and this man is in love with you, but you always brush it off as Razor’s nature to be caring. He’s smiling patiently on the outside but on the inside he has his hands in his hair and he’s screaming.
God forbid anything upsets you. Razor hasn’t been around other humans long enough to pick up on most social cues but he does have a good sense of smell. If you’re happy then the wind smells like sweet flowers. If you’re upset then it smells like mint. While Razor usually keeps himself in check and is somewhat indifferent, the second he catches any signs of distress from you he’s on high alert. Until you tell him what’s been bothering you - a group of hilichurls stole your bag of snapdragon flowers - he’s going to be on guard and stressed out. He’s already throwing his claymore over his shoulder to go and fight the monsters that tried to upset you. Wow, what a good friend you say to Fischl. Fischl is ready to punt you off a cliff.  
Razor tries his best to show that he likes you by bringing the things you need and looking like such a proud pup. He looks at you with such hopeful eyes that it takes you a second to register what he’s asking before you feel your own heart rate speed up and pound into your ears. You flush pink before you move to embrace him and ruffle his hair as praise as he nuzzles into your shoulder affectionally. You assume his affectious actions are apart of his wolf nature and how they act so you try not to read too deep into things. Even if Razor seems a bit too happy to be hugging you and receiving pets. Or the fact he doesn’t let anyone else pet him...
Bennet tries his best to help his friend out by giving Razor some advice but considering Bennet himself hasn’t been in a relationship yet, it’s all practical. Telling Razor that he’s seen couples bring each other flowers as a sign of affection, maybe Razor could find some plants to bring you? It ends horribly when he offers you a wolfhook and you just stare at him. He says that these are his feelings towards you but you’re just...so confused?? Wolfhooks have thorns so does that mean he thinks you’re clingy? Isn’t that a bad thing? Are you annoying to him?? But wolfhooks also symbolize wolves so is he saying you’re like family to him??? You’re internally screaming while debating if you just got family-zoned or if Razor is trying to subtly tell you that he doesn’t like you.
Just because Razor is, somehow, unsure if you actually like him or not. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t get incredibly jealous and possessive at any unknown presence. He’s still a bit wary of the City due to all the conflicting smells and noises but he can’t help but look so sad when you have to run errands and you can’t visit him. But when you mention that a really nice knight gifted you a flower does Razor see red. He gave you a flower?? Shouldn’t you be happy with his? Why do you need another one when you have his? Is his gift not good enough? Is this your way of saying you’re interested in someone else? This poor boy is on the verge of either running off to go sulk or find the man that gave you this flower, which up until his knowledge - courtesy of Bennet - is a sign of courting, and absolutely destroy him to prove he’s the better partner.
He tries to keep it under wraps since he's been told that while in the City, he needs to exercise restrain and understand that if he enters. He's expected to at least respect the laws and people. But this poor wolf is so feral over this new development and this new smell that's been clinging onto you that whatever worries and isolation issues Razor felt about the city flies out the window as his protective instincts kick into overdrive. He sees other people and even pets as a rival for your attention and love. He just wants to scoop you up and growl at everything as a message to say “this is mine, go get your own”.
Even when the both of you are far away from the city, Razor’s continued mood seems to hang heavy over both your heads. You’re not sure what exactly caused Razor to be on high alert. He’s snapping and growling at everything little thing that comes close, even a butterfly!
You abruptly stop walking to Razor’s surprise as you whip around and frown at him. He can feel a chill run up his spine as he stands perfectly straight as you study him before you hold your palm out and looked at him expectantly. He looks at your hand with a small spark of perked attention before his nose twitches and he goes back to sulking. You’re still waiting for him as he shuffles a bit, his hair that resembled a wolf ear is twitching, before he whines and trots over and places his chin on your palm. He’s looking up at you with the most kicked puppy expression and you don’t even know what you did but you feel like the worse person in all of Teyvat.
“Razor...what’s gotten into you?” you ask gently as you rub circles into his cheek as he nuzzles into your palm. He seems really conflicted as his eyes dart away from your face and he almost looks guilty. He just whines and turns and buries his face into your warm palm. You’ve never really seen him like that before as you awkwardly try and comfort him. Until the same flower slips out of your pocket and you hear something primal growl out of Razor. His teeth are pulled back and he snarls at the flower as his pupils dilate. You quickly get between him and the poor flower before Razor tries to do anything.
“Seriously Razor, what’s gotten into you?” you asked concerned. He quickly shifts his attention to you as he pounces and knocks you over. You left off a soft noise as the wind get’s knocked out of you but you peep when his hands cage you from above. Razor’s red eyes bore into yours and you’re suddenly thinking the air is getting too hot. 
“Do you like Razor?” he asks, tilting his head in a cute pout. It makes you internally coo before you quickly snap out of it. Stay focused! 
“Of course I do! Remember we talked about this?” you say as you remember back to your previous interactions but this only seems to frustrate Razor more.
“No. Not that like. More...” Razor struggles with his words as he tries to piece together the right string of sounds to try and convey what he’s feeling. He seems so conflicted that it breaks your heart a bit. So you reach up and gently rub behind his ear as he closes his eyes and relaxes. He breathes in deeply as his eyes open and his pupils return to normal, but vastly determined.
“Together. Always. Just...us,” Razor says softly as he looks at you hopefully. There’s a small pink dust to his cheeks as his fang digs into his lip in nervousness. You’re not sure why but your heart absolutely sky rockets at it and you can feel your face flush pink.
“Um, yes?” you nod along, you think you’re understanding what he’s trying to say. Maybe he was just upset you were spending so much time in the City and away from him that he felt your friendship was neglected? That would make you really upset. But the way he phrases his words makes you believe that perhaps...
Before you can think more on it. Razor’s face breaks into a grin that nearly blinds you from the pure affection that sprouts from it. He’s already hugging you harder as he starts rubbing his nose and cheek against your neck. Making soft and happy sounds as he nuzzles you. He’s never done that before but you assume he’s just so happy. You breath a sigh of relief that it appears that your message to him was clear enough.
Yeah of course, friends always, you think
Lupical. Partner. Mate, Razor thinks.
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whistling as I pretend I don’t see your stares. Yeah ik but it’s ok. This is a sorta semi series. We’ll build upon it. But Xiao content is next lol. I’m taking inspiration from this. I mean, when I don’t feel like shit 😷
I’ve been listening to [  Softy - Dear Moon ]. This isn’t the usual kind of music I listen to but it came on shuffle and this is now my mental breakdown song.
Quick edit: Turns out this is an ost from “My Mister”. I’ve never been into kdramas (I think I’ve only seen goblin, she was pretty, and Hwarang) but the cover picture looks so upsetting? My friend is really into tgcf and I believe that had a live action as well. 
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dirtycccat · 3 years
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the demon bros+ undateables showing their love
thought about this for 5 min then had to write it out so enjoy
lucifer
first off you notice he treats you differently
and by differently i mean like you’re his favorite child  sibling
you get away with anything??? and he’s softer with you than with the others (which is canon)
then you see that?? he keeps buying you stuff you said you wanted when he was present
and you’re ofc impressed
but you’re more impressed by how open he’s around you
he’ll leave most of his walls down around  you
which means you’ll get to experience unfiltered lucifer
he’ll laugh around you more, make dumb dad jokes, nap with his head in your lap, complain drunkenly about his work and bros, give you sloppy cheeks and forehead kisses
you find it rly cute though
if you’re in the human world he’ll 100% take this chance to send you beautifully written letters asking you how you are and leaving some verses that reminded him of you on the back like a 19th century vampire
“dear mc, how is your life? mine is filled with woe and unease since i do not  have the light of my life around anymore...anyway here’s a poem about being horny and alone by a 18th century romantic author hope to see you soon, xoxo lucifer”
you try to respond in the same way and send him memes on the back instead of  poetry (or real poetry depends on your mood)
mammon
protective of you 100% will throw hands with anyone that even glances weirdly your way
but also wants to show you off? like look at this human!!! this is MY human!!!
gives you random thoughtful gifts that reminded him of you
wants to be around you 24/7 so he invites you to all the events that he thinks you’ll like
you wanna party? perfect. you wanna go on a weird ghost stories tour around the city? cool. you wanna waltz in one of those old people parties? he’s already reserved two tickets. you just wanna lay around and nap? he’s already on your lap.
it doesn’t matter if you’re in a romantic relationship or not this man WILL serenade you outside your window
rapunzel style with an acoustic guitar or with a boombox like a rebel 80s kid
anyway here’s toxic by britney spears babe this is for YOU
levi
considers you his bff ofc
but also at first he’s still really awkward around you and doesn’t really know what to do for you and feels bad thinking only you do things for him
until you reassure him you enjoy just being around him so it’s fine
he blushes and starts inviting you more to his room to game/ watch stuff
at some point he starts buying two tickets to all concerts he goes to and invites you along
but also? he asks you what you’re into and starts marathoning your favorite animes/ movies/ series so he can talk with you abt them
you feel really moved that he’d do that for you???  like??? bruh...
your relationship is basically friends respecting each other and wanting to know each other the best through their passions even if it means getting into some weird shit
it’s rly wholesome tho
if you’re romantically involved he’ll totally do roleplay as your favourite character and you do the same for him and it’s really cute
also imagine: artistic collabs. you make fanart together??? you can program games together???? you do cosplay together??? the possibilities...
satan
he’ll hate to be compared to his dad brother but he does show how much he trusts you by showing his unguarded side too
when he first talked about lucifer without the filter of his nice guy persona you were pretty shocked
like he was really going at it
but then you realize? he’s just like that when he’s comfortable
and it’s not all mean spirited, he just has,,, a strong personality and a lot of opinions about stuff (which you sometimes share with him)
but you also found out it’s really fun to gossip with satan
since he knows all the juicy gossip from his multitude of ties (he’s sharing the title of gossip queen with asmo that’s why they get along so well tbh)
also if you even find a teacher you hate he’ll tell you all their embarrassing moments to make you feel better
he also recommends you books and poems and sends you quotes that made him think about you
so you sure as heck don’t need to buy books while you’re in the devildom bc he’ll buy you an entire library 
asmo
compliments you without comparing you to himself which is the highest compliment he can give
like mammon he’s more into the showing everyone his favorite human around while also protecting them
he’ll take you to his parties and gatherings as a guest of honor, he’ll make you meet all kinds of people and open up opportunities for you
he’ll be the one that pampers you
you’d think lucifer is the sugar daddy of the family but nope it’s asmo
he’ll buy you cute clothes, shoes, beauty products everything that he saw and imagined would look bomb on you
if you’re not into clothes he’ll buy you art supplies, books, anything you want but he’ll still probably  buy you at least some clothes he thinks are cute
if you’re romantically involved,,,, he’ll buy other toys for you as well which you can try together wink wink
beel
cooks for you
no questions asked when it’s his turn to cook he’ll think about what YOU would like to eat first before making something
which is??? really touching coming from beel
and also means sometimes he’ll make the same dish three weeks in a row and annoy the others while you just get excited bc ??? you get to eat your favourite dish??? again and again???? 
thank you beel you truly know how to touch someone’s insides
also opens up to you and talks to you about his fears and thoughts
expect to get 4 am msgs from beel if he had a nightmare
which would end up in you coming to cuddle him (and belphie also joins sometimes)
which tbh is that even a thing you can complain about?
belphie
is more baby less murder when you’re around
naps on your lap, naps on your shoulder, naps with you anywhere
but also let’s you nap on HIM
besides being soft around you he actually opens up to you too
and talks to you about his traumas and issues
which he has in common with his twin what can you do
so you have weekly cuddle parties with him and beel where you talk about shit and actually make them resolve their issues instead of just,,, ignoring them
also if you’re into each other you probably tease each other and flirt really shamelessly in public while the others cringe and or blush at your language
are you a cowboy? because i want you to ride me all night 
simeon
writes you fancy letters with poetry like lucifer, but his ink is scented and  his envelopes contain pressed flowers more often than not
if you’re together you even do letter sexting if you’re into it
creates characters based on you in his stories (which you don’t believe even if levi points out you that the two of you are kinda similar)
asks you to spend more and more time with him and luke
invites you to picnics, reads to you while your head is in his lap, cooks you snacks
if you’re a theatre kid too,,, you do musical love confessions too,,, sometimes by just reciting the lyrics of really popular musical theatre songs in a death panned voice
cough a heart full of love from les mis but read like poetry through the fence of the house of lamentation cough
asks you cryptic shit hannibal style like “tell me mc what does it mean to want to be consumed whole by another? is it a desire to become something bigger than yourself or is it related to our need to become one with our loved one like some cultures pointed out before?”
you’re either really into his cryptid talk or just roll your eyes and smooch him
diavolo
invites you around to his castle all the time
sometimes he even pulls some weird shenanigans just to make you spend more time with him
expect tea parties with him luci and barbatos in no particular combination
gives you compliments 24/7  even in public
remember how he treats lucifer? he’s that for you too but he’s learned from the lucifer experience to focus on complimenting you as a person more than how you look
if you’re into pda he’ll touch you all the time
if you ever wanted a gomez - morticia romance, here’s your goth big titty himbo that’s way too full of love
if you’re lovers expect to be pampered, i feel like? he doesn’t buy a lot of gifts and such because he’s probably tired of material things but he will make time in his busy schedule for you and spend a lot of time with you
which means more to him than gifts
(we will buy you anything you ask though)
barbatos
actually talks with you about stuff outside rad, the demon bros and diavolo
also invites you to alone time tea or wine time
where you drink and gossip
if satan and asmo are the crowned queens of gossip barbatos is the king of gossip but he doesn’t share his knowledge to most people so nobody knows what he knows
but he knows,,,, a lot
and not only that he knows a lot about people nowadays,,, but imagine the things he knows about like historical figures and such,,, 
so prepare for story time with barbatos where he  talks about how oscar wilde was almost summoned by drunk inccubi during a party once, or how  diavolo cried when he was a kid because he sent a letter to caravaggio asking him to paint his portrait and he said no
also if you get drunk together expect really energetic talkative barbatos destroying DESTROYING everyone (except diavolo ofc)
“lucifer please i once saw you crying because you thought diavolo was ignoring you when you actually forgot to press the send button to your messages ”
if you’re romantically involved diavolo will always be first in his hear but that just means you’ll have to invite diavolo along on your dates which  just means you’ve got a new lover and a new bff
solomon 
he invites you on all kinds of wacky adventures
you  visit witches, go to weird magical forest parties or orgies if you want, you go travelling the mountains for rare herbs
it’s like you’re faust and he’s mephisto  haha the irony and he’s showing you another side of the world you never knew 
ofc the others know about all this but??? they thought it’s normal and didn’t even consider you know nothing about it
but solomon knows what it was like to be just a human
and since he likes you he empathizes with your situation
he also make you meet all kinds of people
since he has 72 contracts and hundreds of years of doing wack stuff he must know some interesting people
and now his friends are your friends 
i feel like romantic solomon would be just him?? but less shady with you especially since now you understand him better 
but also he’ll probably bring you weird shit from his alone expeditions
did you ever want the tears of a mermaid? a carnivorous plant that feeds on emotions? a crying portrait? no? well too bad because now you have a room full of weird items
...that you love and treasure thank you very much
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To Survive this Pain, Part 1 - 11th Doctor x Reader
A/n: I'm not dead, I promise! I've just been struggling to finish off fics. If this seems slightly rushed it's because I just needed to finish something. It's exam season (it's extra-long now due to a certain virus), but they're over in a few weeks. I've been trying to stretch into writing for different Doctors, and in my new formats, but good old Eleven is easiest to write. Inbox is still open :)
Word Count: 2596
Summary: After the "death" of Amy and Rory, the Doctor is devastated. After deciding to isolate himself on a cloud, he leaves you with the Paternoster Gang till Strax informs you the Doctor wants to see you.
Warnings: Angst, Cold Doctor, Doctor is slightly ooc due to guilt, mild self-inflicted Injury, Bouts of Rage.
I should try to post part two as soon as possible.
This is my first ever Full Story (GIF isn't mine).
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Your shoes splashed through puddles on the cobblestone road, on your way down to the park of which you knew he would be.
You hadn't heard from him in a short while now, but Jenny and Vastra frequently advising you to pay him a visit had been getting to you. That's why, when Strax brought you the news that the Doctor wanted to see you, you leapt at the opportunity.
You were worried, you'll admit. It was clear as day that losing Amy and Rory had him tearing himself to pieces. It was only a matter of time before he sent you off, too. Before he abandoned you.
Weaving around the quiet Victorian streets, the sun still yet to grace the sky, you had arrived at the park. Looking around the odd trees that decorated the perimeter, you picked out the tree that you knew had the elusive ladder directly above it. You stepped over the beds of wilting flowers that lined the pathways into the overgrown grass.
After completing the feat of reaching the ladders, consisting of either jumping or using your umbrella handle, you had successfully pulled the ladder down far enough to climb onto.
Making your way up the ice-cold rungs, you take a moment to consider why the Doctor called for you in the first place.
It made little sense to you. After all, the Doctor had been avoiding you for the better part of two months now; what had changed?
The Doctor planning on taking you home became all the more likely in your mind as you began to climb the spiral staircase, shivering as the late-autumn air nipped at your skin. Winter was slowly breaking through the remaining life.
If you weren't so hung up on adjusting to the less-than-ideal state of Victorian England, you would've had more time to worry about the Doctor. However, he was so hung up with his own issues, and you with yours, that he only crossed your mind when you were settling down for the night.
Of course, it hurt that you too. Never seeing Amy and Rory again. You did your best to hold onto the fact that they lived a happy life together.
A life that you knew could never have. You wish you could say goodbye to them, but you chose to carry the loss with you.
You were exhausted, it was safe to say. Spending your days helping out the Paternoster Gang with new cases that come in was certainly frustrating, especially when you had to avoid so much. Milk, green dyes, dodgy stairs, aliens and gas leaks. Nothing was safe in Victorian times.
Not that you didn't enjoy the company, mind you. Jenny always provided conversation, and paired with Vastra, there were plenty of investigations to be had. You just missed them all, sometimes.
The Doctor had become such a vital figure in your life that it didn't seem right for him to not be there. When you had both lost Donna, you were there for each other, and even then, he was a wreck. You had spent those first two months together, and you had never felt closer to someone before. At first, you couldn't admit it to yourself, but after six years, you knew that was when you started falling for him.
There was so much you didn't understand about him, yet so much he had begun to explain. You had seen and done so much together, places that surprised and scared the both of you. In distant worlds and ancient times, there lay so many memories that you had forgotten. Just another thing consumed by time.
A simple flip through your diaries would confirm that through all that, you admired him: mattering not which of his faces. You had accepted from the start that he was an unobtainable desire, no matter how you looked at it.
He was old, alien and a danger-magnet. Many considered the Doctor to be a God.
It upset you to know that the Doctor could never love you, not in the way you love him. Not in the way that he had shown you what love could be, what it should be. But that was what you had to expect from the Doctor.
You assumed that consistently losing those he loved must hurt immensely. You also imagine losing someone he could spend the rest of his lives with would leave another unfixable hole in his heart.
So it made sense to you that the Doctor would never willingly fall for a human. Your short life-spans and weak bodies meant that so much as a single bullet could rob you of your life.
The thought of what a state he must've been in at that very moment was disturbing, to say the least. You had seen the Doctor angry before, and it was not an easy sight.
His heart held so much pain, so much guilt.
After what felt like a good three minutes, you stepped off the staircase. Your shoes now emerged in a cloud, which could somehow keep you from plummeting into the streets below. You felt surprisingly light, almost like you were standing in a pit of feathers, yet some odd force kept you from losing your balance. Plucking your key out of your pocket, you press your hand against the door of the TARDIS. You unlock the door, pulling the key from the lock and stepping into the Console room.
You called out for him. After listening for a moment, you concluded that the Doctor must've been elsewhere.
The TARDIS was a glum sight. Most of the orange lights were dimmed: if functioning at all. A few even had fist-holes in them. There were what looked like hundreds of books cluttering the console, all of varying topics: The Time War, Time Lord Psychology, the History of the Universe, Earth History, Greatest War Losses. Some had bookmarks; others he had clearly tabbed.
Paper littered the glass flooring, each scribbled in several handwritings. They all clearly varied in ages and sizes, some a muddy brown, others a vivid white. Quite a lot were in small clusters of pages, as though they were ripped from a book. You picked up one of the sheets to inspect closer, and your heart nearly broke.
Each page had a sort of date in the corner, which you quickly realised must've been an approximation of the Doctor's age at the time. They were diary entries, ripped out and thrown in what you assumed to be a fit of rage.
The Doctors' tweed jacket had slipped off the console and onto the floor. The contents of his pockets spilt out onto the floor.
You leant to pick it up, grimacing at just how much he was carrying around. Throwing the jacket over the railing, you avoided stepping on any more pieces of paper.
"Tidy some of this, will you?" You addressed the TARDIS, a hand on the edge of the controls, "I'll go talk to him, where is he?" The TARDIS clicked and hummed in response, showing you a blueprint on the monitor, "The Library? Okay then."
Darting out of the Console Room, you attempt to discover the library as soon as possible. You vaguely remembered the three places the library is most likely to crop up. You went from there. Fortunately for you, you didn't have to go far before the library appeared.
You had always felt as though the library was too empty. Four stories of shelves filled with books, all visible from the ground floor, the rows of shelves created a sort of maze of titles and colours. The Doctor must've owned every single book in the galaxy, judging by the sheer size. Not to mention the several dozen or so empty seats. The library could easily hold thousands of people at once, yet there is rarely ever so much as a whisper.
You had a fair clue as to why the Doctor would be hiding away in there.
There the Doctor was, turned away from the door, in an intricately decorated armchair. You could just about make out the top of his head. You loomed behind him awkwardly, unsure or not if he was aware of your presence.
"Doctor?" You faltered. His head perked up slightly, and the Doctor strained out a hum. He stood up, his arms tiredly hanging at his sides after he stretched. It checked out with your fit of rage theory. The Doctor walked up to you, and you only then noticed how fraught he was.
His expression was tired, eyes sunken and lips pressed into a thin line. His shirt was unkempt: the sleeves were torn slightly. It also appeared burnt or covered in dust. His hands were covered in dust too.
However, you noticed that his right hand had quite a few cuts and gashes, which all seeped out orange-tinted blood.
His greenish-brown eyes search yours for a moment as a tear rolls down his cheek. He inhales deeply, nodding to himself.
"Look, I..." The Doctor paused, again glancing over into your eyes, "I'm sorry- I can't, I can't do this," He took in a trembling gasp for air, "I don't want to, but I can't keep doing this. I'm sick of it. I can't keep losing people. I'm so sick of saving the universe." Unsure of what to you, you reach a hand out to the Doctors. He puts a hand on top of yours, keeping the other, bloodier fist at his side. You brush your thumb over his knuckles, his hand hot against yours. The Doctor continues, "Everyone, everyone who travels with me leaves, or dies, and I'm always alone again. Alone and in pain. I can't keep doing this..."
Smiling sadly, you nod, "I understand," You looked back up at the Doctor, "If you called me here to convince me to go home-"
"Take you home?" The Doctor's voice cracked, "I could never. That'd be just as bad as losing you. I need you."
Oh, the Doctor have his way of making you feel important at the worst moments. Your insides bubbled giddily, but you refused to show it. Instead, you ignored it to the best of your ability; what he was saying was important.
Your attention had fallen back down to his hand, and it looked considerably worse than you initially thought. Pieces of glass dug into his knuckles, the skin seeming gnarled by the force of the oncoming storm, "Doctor, your hand,"
"It's fine." The Doctor seethed, staring numbly at you, "I'm not human, it's not going to kill me."
You wanted to protest. However, given the Doctor's already fragile temperament, you weren't going to push it. Instead, after an instant of silence, you asked a simple question, "How have you been, then?"
The Doctor blinked, giving an answer careful thought. He had an earnest grimace as he finally spoke, "Furious."
"I can see, that" You hum, putting equal thought into how you should approach your response, "What do you think you're going to do, now?"
"Stay here. I'm not getting involved anymore." The Doctor spat, pulling his hand away from yours, turning to sit down, "I don't want to care."
"That's fair enough." You reassure. You didn't like the sound of the Doctor retiring too much, but you respected his choice. If he didn't want to save the world, he doesn't have to. You hoped that, in his chosen conditions, he would heal.
You vowed to yourself at that moment that you'd do everything you could to help him. Starting with his physical injuries.
You heard the armchair squeak softly as the Doctor flopped back against it, picking up a book from the coffee table and beginning to read. You headed back over to the door and grabbed the small medkit from the bracket on the wall. You paced back to the Doctor, pulling a pouffe from a few feet away to sit on. The Doctor glared daggers at you, exhaling sharply and holding his arm out in your general direction. You thanked him meekly, beginning to remove the sharp, reinforced glass shards from his knuckles.
If you were new to travelling with the Doctor, you thought that seeing this might hurt you more. However, six years of travelling was more than enough for the two of you to be used to this sort of treatment. He never seemed to care much about his physical health, more about yours. That often ended up in you worrying about the Doctor, not that you minded. You supposed it worked out, as you both fussed over each other. If the Doctor's previous face saw how he was acting, you were sure he'd have a fit. Not that he mattered, as he was still a part of the man in front of you.
You could tell by the downtrodden way he pretended to read his book, staring a hole through it, that something was bothering him.
"Are you scared of me?" The Doctor halted, voice brittle. He had taken note of how delicate you were and had drawn it up to a fear that the Doctor would lash out at you.
"No," You shushed, focusing on removing the glass from his hands.
"You don't sound sure,"
"I am." You reassured bluntly, "I'm just being careful. I don't want to hurt you more."
"I'm not hurt! You don't need to fuss over me,"
You lifted your eyebrows slightly, "There's nothing wrong with feeling, Doctor. As you said yourself, feelings enhance life." The Doctor exhaled petulantly, eyes back on his book. "But not even you can be in pain forever."
"What is my alternative?" The Doctor strangled out, "I forget? I do something selfish?"
You grimace as you remove the last small shard from his pinky. You take out a clean cloth and some water, dampening the rag as you speak, "You're forced to survive this pain, this guilt, but you will grow from it. You make mistakes so that you learn from them."
You gently clear the blood from his hands and start to apply mild pressure to the deeper wounds. The two of you continued in silence, the Doctor only occasionally removing his hand to turn the page.
He was such a different person to the goofball front you were used to. He was melancholic. However, you would see a small amount of your Doctor bubbling to the surface. He would occasionally chuckle at the book he was reading or draw circles on your palm as you held his hand still. It provided you with enough comfort to know that you weren't wasting your time.
You finished up your last-minute medical care with a bandage around his hand. You closed the medkit.
"Alright, I'm just going to go restock this, then I'll go tidy up the paper in the console room,"
"Oh- right that... Must've been a mess. I'm sorry,"
"It's okay." You smiled pleasantly, "Come find me if you need me, okay? I won't be far,"
The Doctor caught your hand in his, just as you were about to leave, he tugged at your arm. You leant down, and the Doctor pressed a short kiss to your cheek. You countered with a kiss of your own on the middle of his forehead. Just like you used to, back with his previous incarnation.
As you wandered off, you were oblivious as to what that gesture meant. Was it a thank you? Another apology? Was it even platonic?
From behind you, you swore that he said something you thought you'd never hear the Doctor say.
194 notes · View notes
adhduck · 3 years
Text
Oh Well, I Guess We’re Gonna Pretend
AO3
(Major spoilers for rqg 207)
Wilde is at a party with all his loved ones, and everything in his life is finally falling into place.
He’s also unconscious on the floor of the world’s last safehouse, and something is coming for him.
--
“Come on, Oscar, dance with us.”
Wilde blinks, realizes Hamid is standing in front of him with his hand outstretched; probably a symbolic gesture, considering he’d be hard-pressed to pull someone double his height.
Smiling, Wilde sets his half-empty champagne flute on the table. “Of course. Care to join, Zolf?”
Zolf, who’s slouching in the next seat with his long, worn coat tucked around him in a fabulous display of I am not a party person, scoffs fondly. “Absolutely not. ‘Sides, it’s yer party, Wilde, not mine.”
“It’s our party,” Wilde says with mock offense, putting a hand on his chest. “Didn’t you hear my toast?”
“Half of it, maybe.”
Wilde rolls his eyes, but relents and squeezes Zolf’s shoulder; presses down a smile when Zolf catches his hand for a second and pats it. “I’ll get you to have fun one day, Zolf, mark my words.” He’s rewarded with a gruff little mumble, and then Hamid tugs on his coattail to pull him away.
[Cel is still reeling from the shock of electricity when they see it. It’s large, with a body that could be humanoid if not for the oversized head, how its body seems not to take up space but distort it. If not for the six-foot swords it has instead of arms.
Instinct kicking in, Cel pulls two bombs from their pockets and throws them in rapid succession. Even with their hands trembling a little – they always do, the first few moments of combat – Cel know each one is perfectly weighted and near perfectly aimed.
The creature doesn’t even flinch.
It only takes a moment to process what that means – limited bombs, a 5% chance of hitting at best, almost a third of their own health taken in one hit – before Cel abandons the idea of attacking and reaches instead for Hamid. He’s desperately light, clothes singed and hissing; as Cel pulls him to their chest, he curls instinctively into the touch.
“Hang on, little buddy,” they whisper, trying fiercely to sound sure. “You just keep dreaming for now; I’ll keep you safe.”
They just need to get him through the door.]
There are a few people dancing, but the clear stars are Azu and Kiko—partly due to Azu’s shimmering, lightly glowing pink gown, but mostly because of the dance itself. It’s a bright, lively partner dance Wilde hasn’t seen before, where they pull in and out of each other’s embrace with twirls and dips and lots of laughter. It looks equally exhausting and exhilarating.
Azu notices him mid-spin and brightens immediately, waving him over. “Kiko, you mind if I show Wilde the ropes?”
Kiko grins and gracefully steps back, half-bowing in the process. “Yeah, sure. Long as I can watch.”
So Azu works Wilde through the steps, out of sync with the music at first to get them right, then faster as he gains confidence, and soon they, too, are spinning and laughing. “You,” Wilde says when they pause to catch their breath, adjusting the frill around his neck, “are an excellent dance partner, Azu.”
Azu preens a little. “Oh, thank you! Though I doubt I’ve got much competition, knowing Zolf.”
Chuckling, Wilde glances at the man in question to find him looking back, chin in hand and a fond smile tugging at his mouth—for a moment, at least, before he darts his eyes away with flushing cheeks. Wilde’s heart sings.
[Azu looks sharply between her friends – half of them unconscious, all of them wounded – and the advancing creature. It seems completely unconcerned by the weapons being pulled as it wades into the fray, dodging a heavy swing from Zolf without even acknowledging him. The swords protruding from its shoulders are almost as long as she is tall.
We can’t win this, Azu realizes. Not while it’s this strong. Pressing a hand to her chest, where her pendant rests safely beneath the armor, she calls to her goddess with words of love and protection and rage. The divine energy builds in her chest, bringing the dull glow of her armor to a bright shine; she throws her hand outwards, flinging the energy with it in all directions, and there—at last, the creature hesitates. It stops as suddenly as if caught in a rockslide, making a noise halfway between a groan of pain and the grinding of stuck gears, and Azu starts to feel hopeful.
Then, it raises its blade.]
Azu catches the movement and smiles conspiratorially. “You know, there are gardens out back that are much quieter than in here.”
”Ah, but you forget,” Wilde replies, putting on his best performer voice. “That just guarantees Sasha will be there, hidden amongst the foliage, waiting to strike.”
Giggling a little, Azu says, “The worst you’ll get from her is some rumors about you and Zolf that are actually true.”
Wilde gasps in (mostly) faux horror. “Don’t even say that.”
Azu laughs for real now, a full and surprised thing, and pushes his shoulder lightly. “Go spend time with him, the party will survive without you a while.” Wilde pouts a little at that, and she tips her head toward Hamid; he’s dancing with complete abandon a few feet away, wings half-unfurled and arms raised high in the air as he spins. Already, a few people have been pulled into his orbit, letting their awkward shuffling loosen into something more inelegant, more natural. “We’ve got it covered. Now go, before you start having deadlines again.”
“To be fair, we have an entire holiday between now and then,” Wilde argues—a bit superfluously, considering he’s already moving away.
Zolf greets Wilde’s approach by sitting up in his chair, eyebrows furrowed and hands raised defensively. “If you try to get me to dance, Wilde, I swear to gods—”
“Already learned my lesson with that one, darling.” Zolf’s ears go a little pink, and Wilde is powerless against the urge to lean into it. “Of course, there are plenty of dances we haven’t tried together—”
“Oh, sod off,” Zolf says, kicking Wilde lightly in the shin; his ears are red, though, so he’s already lost the fight.
[Augusta makes no noise as she’s stabbed through the heart; dead before the pain had a chance to wake her. It’s a mercy, perhaps, but one Cel refuses to let happen to anyone else.
The creature shifts, pulling back its bloodied weapon with Hamid as the clear target, and Cel lunges towards the door, clutching Hamid fiercely against them—and is stopped cold as the creature pierces right through Hamid’s chest.
Like Augusta, Hamid doesn’t cry out when he’s stabbed. He doesn’t move, either; not even when the blade is yanked back out with just force it nearly tugs him from Cel’s arms. Panting, they gather him back against their chest, whatever miniscule safety that might entail, and feel for a pulse. It’s there, thank gods, but only just. He might only have seconds left, and there’s nothing they can do.
At the corner of Hamid’s mouth, Cel can see a smile – the kind he might give during the opening toast of a party, now just the shadow of some wonderful dream – and they do not cry, because what fucking good would that do?]
Just to seal the deal, Wilde drops to his knees in front of Zolf’s chair, bringing them almost eye to eye, and flashes his shiniest grin as he teases, “Don’t worry, I know you love it.” He allows a few seconds for Zolf to huff and pointedly not answer, feeling his chest radiate with warmth, then adds, “Anyway, want to get out of here?”
Zolf’s eyebrows raise, then quickly furrow. “What’re you- that was an awful transition line, ya know. Unless you’re tryna seduce me or somethin’, in which case, why.”
“I’m always trying to seduce you, Zolf, it just never works,” Wilde replies easily. “That’s why I enjoy it so much. And anyway, that’s not what I was asking about. There’s apparently a garden out back, and I thought you might want to take a walk with me.”
“Ain’t you got allergies?”
“It’ll be quiet out there. Poetic.”
Zolf considers for a second, looking Wilde over with a slowly forming smile he’s definitely not conscious of, and for a moment there’s nothing else Wilde wants more than this: kneeling in front of the man he loves, basking in his quiet attention, knowing there’s exciting work ahead and time enough to rest before it comes.
[Zolf spins around, ready to level another attack – he hasn’t hit the thing yet, but maybe if he aims a little lower, forces it to turn for him instead – when he sees the blade sliding out of Hamid’s chest. No. Absolutely not. Without checking it’s clear, he rushes forward, dropping the glaive to his side and redirecting that power into the tips of his fingers. He licks his thumb, presses it firmly to Hamid’s forehead, and, with a low note of please humming in the back of his chest, mutters words of hope and determination into the staticky air.
The wound heals almost immediately, closing like a budding flower in reverse to leave a raised, slightly jagged line of scar tissue; the only proof of how close Hamid was to death. His wings flutter, trying to unfurl in the confines of Cel’s arms, and for a moment, he stirs. Zolf and Cel both breathe out in relief, but by the time he opens his eyes, the poison overcomes him again, and he curls back into Cel’s chest with a contented sound, asleep and completely unaware of the danger around him.
Not exactly what I had in mind, Zolf thinks, but there’s no sharpness to it. The poison in the air was strong enough to knock out people twice Hamid’s size, so he can’t imagine how strong it must be on him. And besides: this might not be a fight where all of them – any of them – get out alive. Can he really blame Hamid for wanting to dream instead?]
“All right, Wilde,” Zolf says at last. “Let’s go for a walk.”
The gardens aren’t particularly large, but they use the space well—bright flowers lining the walkway, bushes and trees bunched together to create the illusion of depth and privacy. Beneath the largest tree, there’s a clear spot where the light filters through like sparkles and the roots breach the soil in just the right way to make a sort of alcove.
It’s exactly the sort of place Wilde would’ve yearned to write poetry in as a teenager, so of course he tugs Zolf over to sit down.
“Thought this was a walk,” Zolf says, eyebrows raised, but makes no argument when Wilde lays down with his head in Zolf’s  lap. His fingers quickly find their way into Wilde’s hair, untangling it little by little, and Wilde can’t stop himself from pushing into the touch with a little hum. Thankfully, Zolf just chuckles, scratching lightly at Wilde’s scalp for a moment before continuing.
There’s silence for a few moments, and Wilde idly searches for a pun he can use to fill it; it’s difficult to focus, though, when Zolf is gathering his hair into sections for a braid, those careful fingers brushing occasionally against his temple, his neck, his jaw.
Finally, what Wilde settles for is: “I hope we’re actually allowed out here. I’d hate to go home early because Grizzop took a swing at me again.”
Zolf snorts. “Don’t tempt me. I’ve always wished I had seen that in person.”
“Some partner you are,” Wilde grumbles, trying not to melt when Zolf tucks a few shorter strands of hair behind his ear. “S’posed to defend me, not join the enemy.”
[Zolf does a rapid once-over of Cel to make sure they’re not injured as well. They’re panting and wide-eyed and definitely only not in shock because there’s not time for it, but seem physically all right, which is about as much as he can hope for right now.
He glances to the door of the lab, where Ada and Skraak also seem to be managing okay—and, importantly, where there’s clean air and a door between them and the monster. Grabbing Cel’s arm, Zolf injects as much authority in his voice as he can and orders, “Get in there, close the door, be safe.”
Without waiting for a reply, he sets his glaive on fire and turns back to the fight. They might not all make it out of here – always a risk, in this line of work – but he’ll still do his damndest to make sure at least some of them do.]
There’s no response, save for a suppressed smile and the continuous back-and-forth motion of Zolf’s steady hands. Wilde basks in it for a moment, getting to lay quietly in the grass without even his allergies interrupting them. It brings to mind when he was a child, rolling down muddy hills with his sister and seeing how long the world tiled after they reached the bottom, dazed and laughing.
“She would have loved this party,” he says, brushing a hand through the barely damp grass at his hip. “Isola, I mean.”
“You could’ve brought her, you know,” Zolf replies. “I could’ve- I dunno, watched her, or somethin’. Not like I was doing much anyway.”
Wilde laughs. “She would be terrified of you.”
[Moving has already proven dangerous, so Cel shifts Hamid in their arms and throws him through the door; once he’s safely inside, they swallow their alchemical allocation and pull a previously untouched potion from their jacket. Dragon’s breath—the one they’d been so excited to get after seeing a glimpse of Hamid’s power; the one they’d chattered back and forth about days or maybe months ago, excited to see when Cel might try it out.
“Not leaving you,” Cel says firmly to Zolf’s back, and chugs the potion. Lightning crackles in their body once again, except this time, it feels powerful instead of painful. This time, Cel is going to be helpful instead of helpless. Whatever it takes.]
Zolf snorts. “Oh, so that’s why I haven’t met her yet.”
“Yes, I’m just absolutely terrified you’ll smite her with all your holy rage,” Wilde deadpans, twisting obediently when Zolf taps the side of his head. “Or gods forbid, convert her to hope.”
“Oi,” Zolf says, tugging lightly on Wilde’s hair. “That hope has saved your arse twenty times by now.”
[Azu catches sight of Hamid breathing and nearly crumples with relief. He’s not dead, she didn’t kill him, she might not have to lose someone else—but there’s not time for that, not yet. They have to destroy this thing first, before it hurts anyone else.
She swings her axe as hard as she can, a scream building in her throat as it moans through the air, and – miraculously – it connects. There’s a satisfying thunk, a sharp note of pain; but as she goes to hit it again, it seems not just to dodge, but actively unform and reform around her axe. Learning. Adapting.
In the second it takes for Azu to regain her footing, the monster sinks one of its blades into Sumutnyerl’s chest. The air seems to freeze for a moment, but the strike is lower than it intended, in the stomach rather than the heart, so maybe it isn’t fatal, but Azu doesn’t know. She just doesn’t know.]
Humming noncommittally, Wilde turns his head to look at Zolf, and when he sees the concentration in Zolf’s summer sky eyes, he’s pierced all over again with the force of how much he loves this man—and how much he, in return, is loved. Gods, Zolf is smiling the way he only ever does for a Campbell, and he’s braiding Wilde’s hair as if it’s the most important work his hands have been tasked with, and he looks so utterly, brilliantly happy that Wilde can hardly stand it.
“You alive in there?” Zolf says, tapping him lightly on the cheek.
[There is only one person left unharmed, the horror of the situation made almost a farce by Wilde’s oversized neck ruff and glittering cape. Almost, but not quite, because when the creature turns – body shifting in and out of focus, sword-like arms dripping with the blood of every other being in this corridor – it turns for him.]
Wilde smiles, catching Zolf’s hand before he can pull away. “Yeah,” he murmurs, stupidly fond with it, and rests his lips against Zolf’s knuckles. Zolf’s breath hitches, staring with undisguised awe and quickly reddening cheeks, and Wilde can’t even look at him, he’s so happy. He ducks his head, pushing it against their joined hands; feels Zolf’s warm callouses all the way into his bones. “Thanks to you.”
[There is only one person left.]
“Wilde,” Zolf breathes; a prayer, a promise. Lips press clumsily to his hair, brush his temple as they soak in each other’s presence. “You saved me, too, ya know. So- so many times. I need you, yeah? And I- it- gods, I’m horrible at this, but I just, you’re
[Zolf sees it, this time, when Wilde dies. Sees the sword pierce his chest – right in the heart, a perfect shot – and yank back out with almost careless indifference before the creature turns and does the same thing to Sumutnyerl.
Even dead, Wilde manages to look artistic. His ridiculous cape is flung out beneath him, one arm draped above his head, the barest trace of a smile at the corner of his mouth. He’d been this way after the crash, too, impaled almost a foot off the ground with his limbs dangling and chin flung up to the sky; the perfect semblance of a martyr being raised into heaven. Had he been unconscious then, too? Zolf thinks. Or did he feel the spike go all the way through his chest before he succumbed from the pain?
Doesn’t matter. Zolf had time to mourn when he saved Wilde then; he doesn’t have time now.
Skraak and Ada both attack, but Zolf doesn’t know if the hits land, refuses to process anything that isn’t Wilde and the mere seconds left before he’s gone for good. He throws himself forward, landing hard on his knees beside Wilde’s head, and starts to pray. The magic builds like strong drink in his throat, and he clumsily wipes the blood from Wilde’s mouth as the spell reaches its peak—and is nearly knocked over as the monster deals a crushing blow to his temple.
His vision goes briefly white, blood already dripping down his cheek and jaw, and the magic begins to fizzle away, but he refuses, he refuses. Gritting his teeth against the pain, Zolf presses a hand firmly to the desecration of Wilde’s chest, cradles his cheek with the other. He’s still warm with hope, and Zolf channels that into his prayer, pressing their foreheads together in a way that might’ve been painful, had Wilde been awake to feel it.
Please, he begs the power inside him; begs anyone who’ll listen. Please. Let this be enough to bring him back to me.
The magic bubbles inside Zolf once more, sparkling and bright and warm, and there’s no way to know, really, if it’s enough. It doesn’t matter, of course, because he doesn’t need to know. Because when he presses his mouth to Wilde’s, stroking his cheek and breathing every last ounce of that vital energy into his body, Zolf has hope.
And there, where Zolf’s fingers curl tenderly against Wilde’s neck, new and weak but steady all the same—a pulse.]
 The first thing Wilde registers is breath on his face, warmth in his throat—then pain, all over his body but especially in his chest, gods, what happened? He opens his eyes, hoping to regain his bearings; Zolf is there, face mere inches away from his own, which is a nice start.
Realizing he’s awake, Zolf pulls away, fingertips brushing against Wilde’s cheek as he goes. His other hand is pressed firmly to Wilde’s chest, and there’s blood running freely from a wound at his temple. He looks about to cry.
If Wilde didn’t feel unmoored before, he certainly does now. “Zolf- wh- what-”
In lieu of an answer, Zolf pulls Wilde to his feet. There are flashes of movement to the side, none of which Wilde is capable of processing yet; Zolf grabs his arm, which is easier. He looks resolved, in that urgent way he used to get just before leaving on solo missions; Wilde has just enough time to be scared about that before Zolf pulls him close and says, “Get the others out and be safe.”
Wilde opens his mouth in question, but Zolf’s already shoving him away. He stumbles backwards a few steps, more out of shock than actual force, before losing his balance and landing hard on his elbows just inside the lab. His neck snaps back a little, making his vision swim, but he blinks hard to clear it and now, now, he sees it all. The creature. The dead. The ones left standing.
For just a moment, Wilde catches sight of Zolf’s face before he turns away. His eyes nearly glow, lips parted around gritted teeth, and there is rage in his features like Wilde has never seen before. Then he raises his burning glaive, this idiotic man that Wilde loves so unbearably much, and growls, “Right. It’s yer turn now.”
67 notes · View notes
caratmagic · 3 years
Text
—jung wooyoung—
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contains: arguing, pretty offensive words, explicit content
word count: 2.3k
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Enemy Territory 🌻chapter 4🌻
You hate that you find yourself dragging your feet slowly—yet quietly— to Wooyoung’s door. Hoping that the noises you hear from behind it aren’t those of pleasure.
There’s an exchange of them chatting, audible enough to hear but not enough to make out the words. As if snooping like this wasn’t enough, you press the shell of your ear against the door. Using the frame of it to steady your body from making any unnecessary movements or noise.
A rustle. Then several more. You think you hear the sheets move.
They’ve stopped talking.
More silence, then a loud thump onto the floor.
Your heart races out of your chest and you have a hard time picturing what could possibly be going on inside Wooyoung’s room.
Footsteps hurry to the door and before you could get more than halfway down the hall, Wooyoung’s body peeks out from behind his door.
“Snooping on me now?” He scoffs with that annoyingly charming sneer. “I thought we were supposed to stay out of each other’s business? Now look who’s breaking their own rules.”
You shut your eyes tightly while your back faces your ex.
Fuck.
A breath quickly fills your lungs as you turn around in efforts to compose your expressions. You’re somehow confused as to why he was suddenly wearing a shirt.
“I— I was just about to knock and ask you what type of meat you wanted to grill, you idiot.” Your mouth moves faster than your thoughts and you’re so glad that your brain was quick enough to pull something straight out of your ass. “I didn’t want to…  interrupt.”
Wooyoung holds the door open slightly for you to catch a small glimpse of the girl politely seated at the edge of his bed. Blinking curiously at you with a content smile on her face, although her tears still stain her cheeks. “It’s not even noon yet y/n, I’m smarter than that to start having rough sex knowing that you’re in the apartment.”
This thought somehow makes your stomach turn and not in a pleasant way. You didn't want to imagine Wooyoung like this with someone else. Yet, an image of him bare and in his sexual glory flashes across your mind and for a second you forget that you aren’t single. You forget that you have a neglectful boyfriend who likes to have sex with you once a week then proceeds to avoid you until the next weekend arrives.
Does Wooyoung have sex often when I’m not around? Did he have to use the word ‘rough’? Do they have rough sex together?—
Why was the thought of Wooyoung having sex with someone else more distressing to you than the entire problem of your boyfriend literally using you as a weekend booty call?
Not a single soul should know why, because the reality of it all is that: One, Wooyoung is single. And two, you are not.
So you had no right to be bothered about it.
Right?
“Uh. Right,” You subconsciously mess with the tips of your fingers to think of what to say next since you didn’t expect that his comment would throw your mind into a loop. “Just text me when you’ve, um, decided what you want. I’ll head to the store now since you’re busy… so you’ve got 20 minutes to make a choice.”
“No need to wait 20 minutes for me to text you, y/n,” Wooyoung slowly pulls his lips into a gentle smile. A smile that sets off a million bursts of fireworks through your chest. “You already know what kind of meat I like to grill.”
Instantly you blink away the feeling—or at least try to ignore it. “People change. Just wanted to ask in case you had a change in taste.”
Wooyoung presses his lips together before nodding his head slowly. Clearly catching your composure and deciding not to point it out due to the guest on his bed. “Uh, nope. My tastes are constant, y/n.”
The worst part of it all is, your conversation was being monitored by a ditsy flower, just waiting for Wooyoung to come back and take care of her… You hated it. Everything about this set up.
Now, heading out of the apartment to get groceries seemed like a much better idea to you than twiddling your thumbs to wait for Wooyoung’s pretty guest to leave.
“I’ll head out then.”
Upon grabbing your purse and your keys, you curse at yourself mentally for getting caught snooping. Even scolding your heart for causing your mind to lose control of your emotions.
************
It had only been half an hour since you left to get ingredients for the meal with Wooyoung, yet a familiar vehicle pulls into the apartment complex parking lot.
A few flights up and your boyfriend is back at the front of your door. Sure to himself that your car has left and that you’d be gone for a while.
San punches in the code of your apartment door. When it opens, a girl stands on the other side peering up at San with a shocked expression.
“Oh hey, It’s y/n boyfriend.” She smiles before turning to Wooyoung who, at the moment, keeps a straight face.
They had finally completed their 30 minute rant session, where she comes to him for help with her loneliness. Which was a topic to talk about for another time since Wooyoung felt like it wasn’t even his place to do it for her— also, considering he’s rejected her multiple times to be something more than her emotional support friend.
He never felt like a new relationship was something he needed.
As far as relationships are concerned, Wooyoung has enough on his plate to deal with considering the ugly truth he’s recently discovered. And of course, his unsettled feelings for his gorgeous ex.
“What are you doing back?” Wooyoung asks San, holding the door open for his emotionally unstable friend.
“Uh, coming to see my girlfriend??” San exchanges an offended glare at Wooyoung.
“Oh, I thought you already had your fill for her last night… What happened? Fell asleep before you could finish the job?” Wooyoung’s words are calm yet sharp like knives. Attacking San with precision as he tilts his head in accusation. “She’s out getting groceries.” He adds.
“You know,” San narrows his eyes, striding to level his face right in front of Wooyoung’s. “You have a lot of nerve thinking you can have any say in our relationship considering you’re her fucking ex.”
“We only broke up because I decided to switch colleges last minute without telling her.” Wooyoung doesn’t back down. He’s aware that his choice was the reason why the two of you broke up and that he should’ve told you sooner he wasn’t going to go to the same college as you guys had planned. “At least I never snuck out of bed after having sex with her.”
San scoffs at the gall. “Don’t act like you fucking know me.”
“I don’t.” Wooyoung shifts his weight and sticks his hands into his jean pockets. “But I know every part of y/n way better than you do. Every. Single. Part.”
San’s hand clenches into a fist and right before he draws it back to swing at Wooyoung. The girl awkwardly standing beside them in the threshold of the door raises her voice. “Hey, as much as I like the drama, I kind of have work so if I can just pass through…”
San doesn’t steer his eyes away from Wooyoung as he takes a step to the side for the girl to get around his body. Too peeved to realize that he was blocking the door.
“…I’ll see you later, Wooyoung. Thanks for helping me out again.” She waves before disappearing into the hall.
San huffs through his nose. It’s upsetting to him that Wooyoung doesn’t even seem the least bit affected by the situation. “Why aren’t you packing your shit? Isn’t this your last week?”
As if his train of thought derails, without even waiting for an answer to his own questions, San pushes past your ex and heads straight into your room.
Looking for what he left so recklessly before sneaking away that morning.
Wooyoung, with his hands still in his pockets, calmly follows San. Watching your boyfriend’s frantic search for whatever he’s misplaced.
Since Wooyoung respects your privacy, he stops right at the entrance of your room. “Did you wait for y/n to leave the apartment?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” San tosses a pillow off your bed. Not sparing a single glance at your ex.
“I don’t know,” Wooyoung leans against the door. “I mean, if I had something to hide, I guess I’d want to wait until she was gone too.”
San stops completely. His heart drops to his stomach when he turns to your ex standing in front of your room. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Wooyoung shrugs with a playful smirk etching onto his face as one of his hands pulls something out of his right pocket. “You tell me.”
There. What San was looking for.
His phone.
“Where did you find that!?” San yells as he practically dives for it.
“Ah, ah, ah.” Wooyoung shoves it back into his pocket. Placing his hand in front of himself defensively. “Question is, why are you so upset?”
San swallows and processes quickly before clearing his throat. He couldn’t understand why his palms were so sweaty. “It’s—Because it’s fucking mine! Hand it over!”
Wooyoung shakes his head, angling his body away from your boyfriend. “It can’t be yours.”
“Are you fucking mad?” San yells again. Smacking Wooyoung’s arm away from the position he’s guarding his pocket. “Of course, it is. It’s my phone!”
“No, no, no.” Wooyoung’s stupid, playful smile begins to boil hate into San’s veins. “This can’t be your phone.”
“I’ll drop kick that fucking smile off your face, you son of a bitch, give me back my phone!”
“Dude,” Wooyoung chuckles, loving how riled up your shitty boyfriend is getting. “I swear this phone has got to be someone else’s… because when I saw it on the couch, ringing at 4 am, someone named Eunji was calling to ask if her ‘daddy’ was still going to—and I’ll quote her on this, “Rearrange my guts like you always do on Saturday nights.” And you're telling me you’re certain that this is your phone?”
The reality settles into the air and San realizes that he’s been caught cheating on you… by your ex.
This is when Wooyoung’s twisted smirk turns into an angry scowl. He’s disgusted that you found a man so indisputably vile and unloyal.
“You really think you’ll get away with this? Lying to y/n like this and fucking her once every week just to make up for how shitty a person you are?”
San’s gaze falters to the floor and he snatches his phone from the unguarded pocket of Wooyoung’s jeans. “What are you gonna do, huh? Tattle-tail on me?” He shoves it into his back pocket, scoffing. “She’ll never believe you. She hates you.”
“Even if she does,” Wooyoung turns on his heels and enters into his room across the hall. “She’ll wish you were dead after figuring out that you leave her in the mornings just to be in some other woman’s bed the very same night.”
San follows Wooyoung a few steps into the hall. “You wouldn’t dare tell her.” He spits.
An exasperated sigh paired with the front door swinging open, startles the two men away from glaring at one another.
*********
After 30 minutes of shopping, you head home.
The entire time in the parking lot, you were gathering the courage to talk yourself into confidently walking back into your house. 
So what if he was having sex? You have sex all the time with San while Wooyoung stays in the room across the hall from yours.
How is coming back home knowing that he’s having fun with a woman be any different?
Equality at its best example for it. You remind yourself as you exit the elevator.
To your dismay, You were unpleasantly greeted by a very voluptuous woman with intruding questions as to why you were going to enter into her boyfriend’s home.
You push past the nuisance at your front door. Sighing as you lazily drop the groceries onto the floor.
You can only assume that this other girl— an entirely different girl compared to the one from this morning—is Wooyoung's little problem.
This boy must be cheating… What a waste. “Taste’s are constant” my ass.
You pray that Wooyoung’s ditsy girl toy from earlier this morning has left.  Though you liked witnessing drama, you didn’t want to see two girls fight over your ex. “Wooyoung? I think you have a guest.” You call out as you take off your shoes.
To your surprise, Your boyfriend is staring at you from the hallway— eyes wide and stunned.
Wooyoung steps out of his room to stand in the hall next to San. A flat smile sets on his features as he stares at you and eunji. “I won’t need to…” He seems to be talking to San when he speaks. “Next time, set a better password on your phone. You never know who’ll scroll through your messages and send people your girlfriend’s address.”
This confuses you. Immensely. More so, when San’s face drains of all color.
“Baby! Who the hell is this girl?” Miss voluptuous checks your shoulder as she rushes past you. Headed towards Wooyoung with her arms stretched out.
What rattles your world from it’s axis isn’t that Wooyoung doesn’t hold her, it’s that the girl doesn’t even look at him. She doesn’t even acknowledge that Wooyoung’s standing there.
Instead,
She’s all over your boyfriend. Calling him “baby’ and glaring at you as if you were nothing more than a disgusting insect.
No, no… I must be dreaming.
“Sannie, who the hell is this girl and why is she coming into your apartment?”
[ chapter 5 >> ] 
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stayatiny · 3 years
Text
The King ~Chapter Four
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Pairing(s) King!Werewolf! Bang Chan x Human!Reader Series Warning(s) – Swearing, Violence, Wolf Dynamics, Smut (in later chapters) and along with others that will be added later. Chapter warning(s) – Lots of Swearing, almost fight A/N – Thank you to everyone who has followed, like and reblogged. I feel someone shaking me awake. I crack one eye open to see Hannah. She’s in everyday clothing. “Hey, Y/N, its time to get up its 10am.” I sit up, rubbing my eyes. “Your brother brought you some clothes. I'll help you get dressed if you need to,” she said. I throw my legs over the side of the bed. I was able to stand on my own and put weight on my ankle. “Good it looks like you can get around on your own now. But do you still need me to help you?” I shook my head. “No, I think I got it. But if I need you, I’ll call you,” I say grabbing my clothes. She nodded, happily and sat on the bed. I was still hobbling not really wanting to put weight on it yet but some. My brother brought me a t-shirt and jean shorts and even some sneakers. I finish getting dressed and handing my dirty clothes to Hannah. Jay even thought about packing a scrunchie for my hair. He knows me so well.
“Chris wanted to make sure that you ate before meeting with him. He knows that you have a lot of questions.” I nod and follow her into the dining room. She linked her arm with mine. I used to roam around these halls with her and Chris when we were young. Before our parents died, our family were the closest nobles to the royal family. So much so that us kids would play together. We hung out and played together constantly. But when I turned twelve, our parents were killed by the king. “Our chef made some French toast and hash browns. I think those are still your favorite, right,” she asked. I nodded. I’m surprised she remembered that. Although I was twenty now, I still eat like a child. “Good.” We continued in silence as she opened the dining room door to see Jay and Chris sitting at the table. “Good morning, Y/N,” Jay said letting me sit by him. I sat quietly while they talked. Chris smiled at me as I sat across from him. I half smiled back. “Did you sleep well?” I nodded looking around the dining room. Nothing really changed except the wall color was now a pale cream color instead of navy blue. I looked over at Chris. He was in a plain white shirt now, but I noticed some stray blood on his face. It was too small of a splatter to be his. I shudder to think on what happened to the suspect. I had heard that his three years as a king he is quite brutal when it came to crimes against his people human or not. Hannah pointed it out to Chris as he wiped his face. “Good. Food should be ready soon and then we can talk, okay?” I took a sip of water. “Okay.” We ate while talking about the olden days of our childhood like nothing ever changed. “Okay, I have to go to work. Chris will make sure that you get home alright?” Jay hugged me and kissed my forehead. Great alone again with Chris… “Y/N, come with me.” I hear Chris say. He grabs my wrist lightly and pulls me into his office once again. It brought back the memories of me finding out the truth a pang of guilt and sadness surging through me. “I’m sure that you have a lot of questions.” He sat in his chair waiting on me to say something. “Just one. Why?” He let out a sigh. He got up and stood in front of me leaning on the oak desk. “From what we gathered, they knew that you wouldn’t have a normal life and they though that killing us would make it better for the humans. But in all honesty, it probably would have led to another war between the two. I don’t blame them for wanting better for you,” he explained. “Why am I just now finding out about this?” Chris frowned. “You should have been told when it happened. I wish someone had I feel like you would have been around more had you known the truth.” I feel myself blush. I do have to admit that I did have a crush on him when I was young. “Maybe I would have. Everything is so different now that you are king.” He frowns again. “I’m still the same guy just with power and not as awkward.” I chuckle. He was. I was getting ready to hug him when fucking Miranda busted through the door. Motherfucker… “Chrisy, I was so worried about you,” she said going to hug him, pushing me out of the way again. I roll my eyes. Hannah followed in after her. “Miranda, leave my brother alone and go home. Also how did you even get in the castle grounds they’re off limits to the public right now?” Miranda smiled. “My mother works for yours remember so she let me in to see Chris,” she said putting her hands on her hips. She glared at me. “What is she doing here then,” she huffed and then pointing to me. I clenched my fist and my teeth. “I mean considering Y/N’s brother works here and my brother was protecting her last night. I also believe that’s its none of your fucking business to know why she’s here. Their family is still one of the most powerful families out there so I would watch who you’re talking too.” Hannah is in her face. Holy shit I forgot how kick ass she is. “At least my family didn’t commit treason.” Before I knew what I was doing. I lunged forward but Chris grabbed me holding me by the waist. “She’s not worth it, Y/N,” Chris
whispered in my ear. I kept trying to get after her. “You need to leave,” Hannah said, looking like she’s ready to her herself. Miranda flicked her hair back. “Fine then but wait till everyone hears that the human is hanging with the big dogs again.” She left out of the room leaving the tension at a high. Chris still held me in case I went after her. “Are you alright now?” I looked at Chris. I fixed my shirt that had raised from him grabbing me. “Yeah I’m fine,” I huffed. Not really but I didn’t want to end back up into his arms again. “I’ll tell mother that Miranda was let in. Why don’t you take Y/N back home? I’m sure she has work tomorrow,” Hannah said, looking to her brother. Oh yeah right full moons a thing. “Right. I’ll walk you home. Do you still know the back way?” I nodded as we left the office. We would take a lone path behind the castle that led to our house. I was tired and ready for a hot shower and my bed. Chris led to the path it was only slightly overgrown with colorful flowers, weeds, and vines. Even though grown over the ghost of a path still remained prominent. “It looks so different out here. But there again it has been years since I’ve been through here,” I said then letting out a nervous chuckle. “Yeah I didn’t realize how beautiful the flowers are through here,” he says smiling. I blush lightly. He grabbed my hand leading me down the path. “You know as kids we were pretty wild, right?” I looked up at him and nodded. “Yeah we were even up until…you know. We were always in trouble.” Chris nodded as we neared our back gate. As we reached my house, Chris stopped me from going in his eyes changing color. “What’s wrong Chris?” He pushed me to the side of the house gently. He points to the door. Its slightly ajar but I never open the back door “Stay here. Someone’s been in your house besides your brother,” he explained and headed in. My hearts starts to pound while waiting for Chris to come back. After a lifetime, or about 10 minutes he comes back out. “You’re gonna wanna see this,” he says following me into the house. Everything was still in place until I got to the basement door. I stared at Chris. He gave me a nod letting me its okay. “What did you keep down here?” My brows knitted together that’s when it hit me. “When my parents papers and journals were seized when the assassination attempt was made what ever was left my uncle put down in the basement,” I said flipping on the light. As light filled the room, I see everything thrown around papers, documents, even our baby pictures laid scattered on the floor. Chris bent down to look at what’s left of the papers. “There’s nothing here but old grocery lists, drawings you and your brother did, and receipts. What ever it was they didn’t find it and left.” I nodded. But what were they looking for?
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earliebirb · 3 years
Note
Hey, I hope you are having a nice day. If you're taking any asks, may I request for a cuddly needy Steve insisting on being close to Tony all the time. Like not letting him out of bed in the morning or making Tony sit on his lap during movie nights. That kinda stuff. Please, please consider writing this one. Thank you!
Hello, Anon. Thank you for the prompt. Cuddly and needy Steve is my favorite.
Have some tooth-rotting fluff in honor of my birthday! 🎂🥳🎉
keep me warm
steve/tony, fluff, established relationship, 4015 words
Steve will take any and every opportunity to touch and be as physically close as possible to his husband, thank you very much.
(Or, five times Steve demonstrates that physical touch is very much his love language and one time Tony seeks him out for it.)
(1)
Tony wakes to the sunlight shining in his face. He groans, instinctively hiding his face back in his pillow. The light feels too warm and bright for early morning sun and a quick glance at the digital clock sitting on his nightstand confirms his suspicions: It’s ten minutes to eleven.
Upon seeing the date and time on the clock, the first thought that crosses his mind is of the numerous tasks he has to finish that day. He sighs a long, drawn-out, and heavy sigh. He hasn’t been feeling his best for the past few days and he has the horrifying suspicion that even his ultra-workaholic self is teetering on the edge of a full-fledged burnout. Between SHIELD, Stark Industries, and the Avengers, he has no shortage of work to do. This is definitely not the time for burnout. His only saving grace for the day is the fact that Pepper has allowed him to come in the afternoon. 
Closing his eyes, he relishes the brief yet sweet escape from reality, pretending just for a few moments that his day is blissfully empty. The work seems never-ending. The only reason he is in bed at all is because Steve had coaxed Tony to come to bed, complaining about how cold he was and steadfastly refusing to sleep without Tony in his arms. 
After a few minutes, he resigns himself to the harsh reality of a busy day and moves to roll out of bed. Except the minute he tries to do so, his body moves further back toward the center of the bed instead of the opposite. Tony blinks at the arm tucked firmly around his middle. A warm weight is plastered against his back, a puff of breath tickling his ear. 
“Steve?”
He gets a short hum in reply, rising at the end in intonation.
“It’s eleven.”
Tony gets another sleepy hum and Steve burrows closer, the cold tip of his nose tucked behind Tony’s ear.
“Why are you still in bed? Did you come back to bed after your run?”
A quiet sigh, and then Steve’s gravelly voice is in Tony’s ear: “Never went.”
“What? Why?”
“Missed you.”
Tony’s lips quirk up into a small smile without his permission. “I never went anywhere, baby.”
“You’ve been busy.”
“Sorry, honey. Work gets crazy this time of the year.”
Steve hums again, lips resting against the back of Tony’s neck.
“And I’m really sorry, baby, but I have to go. More work awaits.”
“No,” Steve mutters decisively, throwing a leg over Tony’s body and pulling him in. 
Tony snorts, amused. “No?”
“No work. You’re mine for the day,” Steve grumbles, arm curling tighter around Tony’s stomach.
Tony strokes the arm Steve has around him soothingly. “Pepper’s going to have my head if I don’t check off at least half the things on my to-do-list today. You want your husband to stay alive, don’t you?”
“I’ve told Pepper to give you the day off.”
“You told Pepper to give me the day off? And she agreed, just like that?”
There is a period of silence, and then:
“There may have been… some flowers involved. And some cupcakes and… bagels sent to her office, along with a—” Steve breaks off to yawn. “A very sweet and carefully worded handwritten note.”
Tony pauses. Then he gasps. 
Turning around in Steve’s arms to take a proper look at him, the ends of Tony’s lips are tugged upwards in a disbelieving grin. 
“Did you— Did Captain America commit an act of bribery?”
Steve frowns, squinting at Tony, sleep still heavy in his eyes. “It wasn’t bribery. It was… a gesture of appreciation.”
Tony raises an eyebrow. Steve stares back at him.
Eventually, Steve sighs in defeat. Tony’s grin widens.
“Fine,” Steve grumbles, shuffling closer to bury his face in Tony’s chest, “it was bribery.”
Tony chuckles, running his fingers through Steve’s soft blond locks. 
“Captain. What would the people say?”
When Steve speaks, his muffled voice comes out rough and near incoherent, speech slurred groggily. “Captain America condemns bribery.” He lets out a content sigh, body melting further into Tony’s. “Steven Stark-Rogers, on the other hand, is not above bribery to get his husband a much-needed day off.”
Tony grins helplessly at his husband’s unfairly adorable antics, leaning down to nuzzle the top of Steve’s head fondly.
“What a menace you are, Mr. Stark-Rogers.”
His husband lets out another noncommittal hum that Tony feels against the bare skin of his chest.
“Go back to sleep, Mr. Stark-Rogers,” Steve mumbles. Tony closes his eyes obediently, slipping back into slumber with ease, a smile on his lips and a newfound lightness in his bones. 
(2)
The sun is shining brightly up in the clear blue sky. The farmers market is bustling with life, with people visiting various tents stationed along the long stretch of road, each offering a variety of fresh produce as well as various finger foods and cold beverages.
The road is also lined by trees on either side, their towering height allowing their leaves and branches to form a natural canopy high up above, effectively shielding people from the sun’s scorching heat. There is even a gentle summer breeze that blows every now and then.
All in all, it’s a wonderful summer day, perfect for an outdoor date.
Now, if only Tony’s husband would stop ruining the day by being a stubborn bastard.
“Steve, this is getting ridiculous.”
“What?”
“Give me a bag!”
“You have a bag.” Steve nods at the bag of red apples Tony is carrying.
Of course, that is nothing compared to the four bags of produce Steve is carrying. He even refuses to distribute the weight evenly between his two hands, insisting on carrying all four bags with one hand and using his other hand to hold Tony’s instead. He tries to reach around Steve in an attempt to grab one of the bags, grunting in frustration when Steve moves the bags beyond his reach. “Steve, your arm’s going to fall off. Just— Give some to me.”
“Tony, your shoulder just barely healed.”
“It’s completely healed. It’s fine, Steve. Just—”
Tony reaches for the bags again only for Steve to catch his arm and bring it back down. “I’ll be fine, sweetheart. I’m a supersoldier.”
“You do not get to pull the supersoldier card right now.”
“Why not?”
“Steven, let me hold some of the bags.”
“You want something to hold? Fine, I’ll give you something to hold.”
Steve reaches for Tony’s arm and secures it around his own waist. Tony glares up at his husband and removes his arm from said waist with a sigh. 
“Come on—”
Letting out an abrupt grunt and doubling over dramatically, Steve clutches his own waist and fakes a pained expression. “Oh, why is my waist suddenly so heavy?”
“Steve, that doesn’t even make any sense—”
“Oh, God. So, so heavy. If only my husband were around to help me hold it—”
Tony rolls his eyes, slipping his arm back around Steve’s waist.
Pulling Tony closer so that he is pressed flush against his side, Steve beams at him, smile bright as the sun. “I feel a lot better now. Thank you.”
He leans down to kiss the tip of Tony’s nose. Tony wrinkles his nose, but he is determined to not let his glare falter.
“Ugh, I don’t know why I put up with you.”
“Love you too, sweetheart.”
(3)
“Tony.”
Steve’s face falls the second he sees Tony walking into the study. Somehow, Steve has managed to infuse an impressive amount of frustration into the two syllables making up Tony’s name. 
Tony freezes after having taken a few steps into the room, wide eyes blinking in bewilderment and a mug of hot tea in his hand. He racks his brain to figure out whatever sin he has committed to make Steve’s face crumple up like that—sandy brows furrowed and the edges of his lip tugged down into a displeased frown.
Coming up with nothing, he pads over quietly to the desk and sets the mug of Steve’s afternoon tea down on an empty space between a wooden penholder and a Stark Industries memo pad. Looking up at Tony from his seat in the plush leather office chair, Steve’s frown deepens.
Tony takes a few steps backward, hands raised in surrender.
“Whatever it is I did wrong, I’m sorry, and it’s one hundred percent my fault. Look, I even brought you a peace offering. A cup of tea to make you feel all warm and cozy?” Tony flashes him a wide, placating grin, gesturing to the mug sitting on the desk. Never mind that Tony has been bringing Steve his tea everyday for years now.
Not even sparing a glance at the mug of steaming English Breakfast, Steve stands up wordlessly.
Slowly, Steve begins walking toward him, eyes on Tony and frown still in place.
“What? I said I’m sorry.” 
Steve continues to walk toward him and Tony continues to walk backward until he feels his back hitting the wall.
“Honey, please—”
Slumping forward, Steve buries his face in the crook of Tony’s neck with a grunt, hands coming to rest on Tony’s waist.
“...Honey?”
“How am I supposed to get any work done if you walk around the house dressed like this?” Steve whines.
“What—” Tony blinks, looking down at his own attire—or rather, the lack thereof. Having just woken up from a nap, he is dressed only in his boxer briefs. A laugh bubbles up his throat, his entire body shaking with it. “Steven.”
“Don’t you ‘Steven’ me,” Steve grumbles.
“I don’t walk like this around the house all the time. I just woke up, honey.” Tony chuckles, hand coming up to bury his fingers in Steve’s hair, massaging his scalp lightly. “Go and finish your paperwork.”
“You can’t expect me to get any work done after seeing you like this,” Steve says, almost mournfully, nuzzling the delicate spot under Tony’s ear and sending a shiver down Tony’s spine. 
“Shut up, you sweet talker. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before. Also, you have to finish your paperwork. We have dinner plans, remember?”
“Can we cancel dinner?” Steve asks hopefully. He runs his index finger along the boxer briefs’ elastic waistband and Tony squirms, ever ticklish.
“We can’t, darling,” Tony says, soft and apologetic even as he grins. “We’ve cancelled on Carol and honeybear twice already. They’ll kill us if we cancel on them again, especially if the only reason we’re doing it is because you can’t keep your hands off of me.”
“Your fault for walking around naked.”
“I’m not naked.”
“I can get you naked.” Steve slips his thumbs under the waistband and Tony grabs his wrists, stopping him before things can truly escalate.
“Nope,” Tony says with a breathless giggle, squeezing his eyes shut and resolutely ignoring the delicious curl of heat in the pit of his stomach. “Dinner plans.”
Steve lets out a defeated sigh, stepping back with a pout. “I hate it when you’re being responsible.”
The sight brings a fond smile to Tony’s face and he hooks his fingers under Steve’s chin to drag him into a soft, languid kiss.
“Please,” Tony says before planting another kiss on his husband’s jawline, “you love me.”
“I do, sweetheart,” Steve whispers, blue eyes gazing down at him softly. “I really, really do.”
(4)
When Tony walks into the art studio and sees the floor littered with paintings of different shapes and sizes, he whistles.
“Look at you go, Picasso.”
Steve turns to him, brush in hand, face lighting up like a Christmas tree. There’s a streak of blue paint across his cheek that Tony is tempted not to tell him about.
“Picasso?” The sunlight streaming in through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the studio illuminates the entire room. From the doorway, Steve’s blond hair gleams golden.
Tony winces as he steps into the room. “Sorry, did I miss the mark completely? Art’s always been more of Pepper’s thing.” Steve grins, easy and bright. “I know.”
Over the years, Pepper and Steve have cultivated a monthly routine of sorts. They have a standing date—sans Tony—whenever Pepper comes over to visit. Bonding over Tony’s antics and the intricacies of fine art, they get along pretty well, much to Tony’s surprise and delight.
Tony tiptoes cautiously around the studio, taking extra care not to step on any of the paintings Steve has laid out to dry. When seen from up above, the wooden floor of the studio would probably look like some rendition of abstract art, the vibrant colors on the different paintings lying on it coming together to form another picture altogether.
He finally manages to make his way to where Steve is sitting, stationed in front of an easel carrying a piece of stretched canvas which has been painted with streaks of red and gold. He looks around and frowns at Steve. “There’s no place to sit. There’s barely any place to stand.”
Steve looks around to confirm Tony’s observation and laughs sheepishly. “Sorry, guess I got carried away.”
The art studio is always in some state of disarray and it drives Tony up the wall sometimes, if he were being honest.
“But there’s always a place for you to sit, sweetheart,” Steve croons, voice all soft and honey sweet. He curls an arm around Tony’s waist and draws him closer, fingers stained with dried paint of different colors resting on the small of his back. Steve nuzzles his stomach and plants a feather-light kiss on the spot just below his sternum. He looks up at Tony with a child-like grin. “Come sit on my lap?”
“Sap,” Tony remarks, but proceeds to sit down sideways on Steve’s lap, his legs perpendicular to Steve’s. Spotting the smears of colorful paint staining the floor and the painting supplies scattered all around the studio, Tony clucks his tongue in disapproval. “You know this is going to take forever to clean up, right?”
Steve’s grin widens and he starts trailing kisses along the column of Tony’s neck. “Maybe this was all part of an elaborate plan to get you to sit on my lap.”
Tony snorts. 
“I highly doubt that.”
(5)
“Sweetheart?”
“Hm?” Tony’s eyes are glued to his armor as he circles it to inspect the damage from all angles, the suit looking slightly worse for wear. Nothing that a little tinkering and a new paint job won’t fix, but the real problem lies within. He had experienced a brief glitch with his right repulsor mid-battle and he is hoping that he will be able to pinpoint the source of the problem immediately after JARVIS finishes running diagnostics.
“Come here for a second?”
Tony walks to where Steve is lying down on the workshop couch, long legs stretched out comfortably along its length. He beckons Tony closer.
“Come here, I need to tell you something,” he whispers, like someone who is about to divulge a monumental secret.
Tony bends down obediently. Steve reaches up to cup Tony’s cheeks in his hands, leaning close until their noses are brushing against each other.
“You look really good in a tank top.”
The corner of Tony’s mouth jerks upward in an amused smile. “You just called me over to say that?”
“Well, no. I also wanted to do this.” Steve promptly hooks his arms and legs around Tony and pulls him down.
Letting out a surprised yelp, Tony lands on top of Steve’s body. Steve grins smugly before tilting his head to growl playfully in his ear. “Caught you. You’re trapped now. Good luck escaping.”
Tony tests Steve’s hold. Steve’s limbs tighten their hold in response. Hiding a smile in Steve’s chest even as he sighs, Tony says:
“Steven, darling, love of my life. As much as I’m enjoying this, I’m afraid that my broken armor isn’t going to fix itself.”
“Shhh,” Steve whispers into his hair, “you look tired. You deserve a break.”
“Baby—”
“Okay, okay. And maybe, I just wanted to hold my husband for a moment. Can we stay like this for a while? Give me one minute.” Steve plants a kiss on the top of his head. “Please?”
“...Okay. One minute. Start the countdown.”
“Sixty, fifty-nine, fifty-eight…” Steve begins. 
Tony allows himself the luxury of melting into Steve’s arms, relishing the way the solid warmth of Steve’s hold squeezes the tension out of his own muscles.
“Fifty, forty-nine, forty-eight…” Steve’s warm breath tickles Tony’s forehead as he continues to count down. 
“Forty, thirty-nine, thirty-eight…” Eyes closed, Tony focuses on Steve’s voice and the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. 
They stay like that for a while, both of them calm and content, Steve’s hushed voice counting down the seconds the only sound in the room. Time passes by slowly and too quickly at the same time, and the next thing Tony knows, Steve has reached the final ten seconds.
“Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five…”
Then Steve turns quiet. Tony waits, but when Steve doesn’t continue the countdown, he looks up. His husband is already gazing at him, face looking deceitfully innocent.
“Honey?”
“Hm?” Steve says distractedly as he caresses Tony’s right eyebrow with the pad of his thumb. 
“You stopped counting.”
“Oh. Did I?” Steve asks, still maintaining his ridiculous charade. “Sorry, sweetheart. You know how forgetful I am.” His thumb migrates down to Tony’s bottom lip, as does the gaze of his blue eyes. “I am a centenarian, after all. My memory is just not what it used to be.”
Tony sighs fondly. “Continue the count, please.”
“Will do, sweetheart.” Steve smiles. “Thirty…”
“Five.”
“I’m sorry?”
“You stopped at five.”
“I did?” Steve’s smile widens, leaning forward to capture Tony’s lips in a kiss.
“I know what you’re doing,” Tony says against Steve’s lips.
When Steve leans back, his face is all confusion. His blue eyes, however, are teeming with mischief. “And what is it that I’m doing? I told you, sweetheart, I’m just a very forgetful person.”
Tony rolls his eyes before resting his head back on Steve’s chest. 
“Let’s go, soldier.” He pats the side of Steve’s thigh. “Start with five.”
“Sir, yes, Sir. Five, four, three and a half, three…”
“What the—”
“Two and a half, two…”
Tony pokes him in the side.
“One and three-quarters…”
Giving up, Tony breaks into laughter. “Honey.”
“One and a half, one and a quarter, and…”
“Uno. Okay, good job, Captain. Let me go now.” Tony tries to wriggle his way out of Steve’s hold, but Steve’s limbs remain unyielding.
“Shhh. Zero,” Steve whispers. And then:
“Minus one…”
“Steve, no!”
Laughing gleefully, Steve finally releases Tony. “Okay, okay. I’m letting go.”
Tony extricates himself from Steve’s hold. Steve glides his fingers along Tony’s arm as he does—determined to get his fill of physical contact until the very last second—and it ends with him catching Tony’s wrist just before Tony is about to stand.
His warm blue eyes hold Tony’s gaze as he brings said wrist to his mouth, pressing a lingering kiss to the pulse point. Something warm unfurls in Tony’s chest at the way Steve’s every movement screams of his reluctance to let Tony go. 
“Meet me for dinner later?” Steve whispers against his skin.
“Of course, baby. Wouldn’t miss date night for anything,” Tony promises.
With that, Steve lets Tony’s wrist go with a sigh before throwing an arm over his own eyes.
“Now go. Before I change my mind.”
Tony leaves, snickering all the while at his husband’s dramatics.
(+1)
“I need a hug. And a kiss. And I need you to tell me that you love me.”
It has taken years for Tony to be entirely comfortable with asking for affection in such a blatant way, but over time he has learned that doing so—actually communicating his needs and wants—has actually done wonders for their relationship. He desperately needs some loving at the moment—the end-result of a long day of all work, no play, and the worst of all: no Steve.
Plus, there is also the fact that Steve always turns all soft and happy without fail whenever Tony does ask for some affection. 
Steve blinks and turns his head around from where he is crouched in front of the oven, waiting not-so-patiently for his mac and cheese to finish baking. At the sight of Tony sitting atop the kitchen counter, legs swinging lightly and eyes staring back at him expectantly, a slow smile blooms on his face. He stands up and makes his way to Tony. 
Enveloping Tony in his arms, Steve presses his lips to Tony’s temple. Tony scoots forward and wraps his arms around Steve’s broad shoulders, locking his ankles around his husband’s waist like a koala on a tree. 
Pulling back slightly to plant a kiss on the corner of Tony’s mouth, Steve cradles his jaw, thumb rubbing his cheek affectionately. “I love you, sweetheart. So much.”
Then he pulls Tony close again, gently placing Tony’s face back in the crook of his neck. Steve rests his head against Tony’s and sways their joined bodies together slightly from side to side, humming a slow love song that Tony knows he has been listening to repeatedly for the past week. 
Tony inhales and lets Steve’s comforting scent fill his lungs, a mix of his coconut-scented body wash and the laundry detergent they share together. It smells a lot like home. 
For the first time since he woke up in the morning, Tony’s day is finally looking up. 
“This is nice,” Tony mumbles tiredly into Steve’s shoulder. 
Steve hums sympathetically, gradually stopping their swaying. His hand comes up to massage the back of Tony’s neck. “Rough day?”
“Something like that.”
“You did a great job today.” Steve’s fingers are still pressing into his neck in slow, circular motions. “You worked very hard at the office. I love you.”
Lips brushing Steve’s neck as he speaks, he says, “You don’t know that. You weren’t there.”
“There are some things that I just know. For example, my husband worked hard today. My husband did an excellent job today.”
Tony snorts.
“Here’s another example. I didn’t see you at all today, but I knew, I just knew that my husband looked beautiful today.” Steve pulls back, cupping Tony’s cheeks and looking down at him. “And would you look at that,” Steve says, voice hushed with something akin to awe, “I was right after all.”
Tony squeezes his eyes shut. “You are so corny,” he says, in the hopes that his remark would distract Steve from his burning cheeks. Years of being married to Steve and the man can still make Tony blush like no other. He just doesn’t understand how Steve can make all these sappy declarations sound so sincere, so genuine. Like he’s just stating an indisputable truth.
“I am also so very right. You are beautiful.”
“Corny.” Tony keeps his eyes shut.
“Beautiful,” Steve whispers in his ear, warm breath tickling his skin. A fleeting kiss is planted on Tony’s cheek. 
For a few seconds, nothing happens. Hesitantly, Tony opens his eyes. He is greeted by the sight of Steve bending down slightly to meet his eye level, hands planted on the counter on either side of Tony, eyes looking straight into his.
Steve’s smile turns lopsided when Tony meets his eyes.
“Hey there, beautiful.”
Tony punches Steve’s shoulder lightly in protest and buries his face in his hands.
“Jesus Christ, stop. I will hurt you.”
“Hm, feisty. I like it.”
“Please just go check on your food or something,” Tony mumbles miserably, voice muffled by his own hands. “It’s probably burning.”
Chuckling lightly, Steve finally lets him off the hook with a kiss to the top of his head. “Love you, sweetheart. Go shower, dinner will be ready in a minute.”
Tony hops off the counter and makes a hasty escape, lest Steve continue torturing him with more saccharine words that make him want to melt into the floor in embarrassment.
His husband can be so ridiculous sometimes.
(He wouldn’t change it for the world.)
241 notes · View notes
citydreamgrls · 3 years
Text
a simple favour - part one
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fred weasley x fem!reader 
summary: it was all in her best interests, fred never meant to catch feelings for her. it had started as a simple favour.
words: 3,371
warnings: swearing , tw: stalking / stalker , smut in later parts (18+)
find part two here
It had started off out of the blue one morning, a letter waiting for me in the great hall when I came down for breakfast. I had been fixing my hair when multiple heads turned towards me, I frowned as I sat down.
“What?”
Hermione held a letter in her hand, passing it over to me with a weirded out look on her face. I shrugged, recognising my name on the front but not the hand it was written in.
I laughed to myself as my eyes scanned over each carefully thought out word, describing my appearance and how ‘entrancing’ I was. Whoever had intended this letter for me was confessing their feelings in an oddly poetic and creepy way, my only conclusion being that it had to be one of the others playing a trick on me.
“Very funny guys, which one of you wrote this? I can’t recognise the writing.” I threw the parchment down carelessly, letting expectant eyes read over it as Ron grabbed it for himself.
“Doesn’t it say?” Hermione asked me, trying to read it over Harry’s head. “It was already here when we came down.”
“Yeah… this isn’t any of us.” Ron scoffed.
“I think you have a secret admirer y/n.” Harry added, handing it back to me.
I squinted, drinking some of my coffee and eyeing up their faces, expecting one of them to snap and laugh. But all I got was stone cold confusion from each of them. If only the letters had stopped there, then I may not have minded. Little did I know, it would only get worse.
-
The letters came every single day, sometimes multiple times. What once was harmless words of my beauty and desire turned sinister, now whoever was writing also seemed to know my whereabouts every day. He would depict times when I thought I had been alone, or claim he’d watched me go for my morning shower. My every move was documented, all with a perfect description of what I had been wearing even days after it had happened. The most disgusting part was the anonymity, the knowledge that this person was getting away with being a massive pervert and torturing me with it day in and day out. Whoever was obsessed with me was keeping it a secret and successfully stalking me from the sidelines.
The day that I found flowers on my bed I screamed like I’d been stabbed, making Ron and Harry quickly race up to the dorm thinking that I’d been attacked. Both of them had cringed at ‘gift’ with the realisation that he’d been in my room, sat on my bed and possibly done worse.
“Make sure nothing’s been taken.” Ron had said grimly, making me shudder at the fear that they could have something of mine.
“Jesus what a creep.” I’d whispered, stomping over to the bed and throwing the flowers out the window with a furious shout.
Since that day Hermione tried putting a curse on the bedroom door, meaning that only those who knew the counter-curse could enter, and those who didn’t would be blown all the way back down to the common room. Poor Ron had ended up being the test subject, which he wasn’t happy about in the slightest, but we had to make sure it worked somehow.
However, even that didn’t work. The letters kept arriving as usual, and the gifts would still appear neatly in my room every day. Not that it stopped me from discarding them in the most public way possible. My anger was growing by the second and throwing them away didn’t feel finite enough, so one night after watching the boy’s quidditch practice when Hermione and I found a teddy bear on my pillow I finally lost my cool.
I could hear voices in the common room, but that didn’t stop me. With the bear in one hand I stormed down, pushed past the small crowd of people laughing and chatting, and threw it into the fire with a grunt. They all fell into silence, Hermione catching up just in time to see its fur crackle away.
I sighed in relief, it felt good to watch the flames engulf around it. Whispers started up from behind me as my friend came over, her hand holding mine gently as we both just stood there. The bear's eyes began to melt, the plastic dripping down its face.
“Come on,” She murmured, taking me back upstairs where I screamed about how horrifying it all was and whether this ‘sick fuck’ thought he was being genuinely romantic.
-
“Who do you think it could be?” Hermione asked me the next night, as I ripped up yet another letter. The sight of my own owl was beginning to instil fear within me.
“At first I thought it could’ve been the twins, but even they’re finding this too much.”
Fred and George knew pretty much everything about everyone at Hogwarts, but when Ron had shown them the extent of this person’s doing, they too drew up a blank, mentioning how weird all of it was.
“They’re not like that,”
“This isn’t a harmless prank anymore is it?” I asked the girl, who wanted desperately to help me solve this twisted mystery.
“I don’t think it ever was,” She hummed to herself, sighing in defeat at the knowledge that the letter I was destroying was in no means the last of its kind.
-
It quickly became common knowledge that I had a stalker after my meltdown in the common room. Professor Mcconagall even offered to help, but there wasn’t much she could do without knowing who it was. Honestly I was weirdly glad she couldn’t, all this frustration had made me determined to deal with the fucker myself.
Hermione didn’t let me go anywhere by myself anymore, with the fear that the creep could pounce while I was without one of them. Most of the time it was fine, I had classes with at least one of them at all times and we had meals together as it was. But it meant that whenever I needed to study, one of them would have to go with me to the library. Hermione also made the rule that she’d sit outside my cubicle every time I showered, especially since the stalker had mentioned it before, keeping watch in case he tried to show up while I was vulnerable.
Despite it making my life a little more complicated, I was glad the others were so willing to look after me. If it wasn’t for them being with me 24/7 who knows what could have happened?
-
It was Harry’s turn to be on y/n watch, as he and Ron had called it, when Fred and George came running into the common room breathless. We had been looking over the most recent letter and discussing more theories on who it could possibly be when they’d burst in. We let them get their breath back, Fred hunching over as George did his best to get his words out.
“We know who it is y/n..” He’d just about managed. I jumped up, letting him sit down.
“Wh-at? Really? Who- how?” I stuttered.
Fred stood up straight, having finally gotten his heartbeat back down.
“Katie bell said she’d seen Cormac Mclaggen writing some letters this morning, then Lavender said something about him buying a teddy in Hogsmeade last week.”
“But they both saw him coming down your dorm tower last night.” George finished, cutting his brother off from the kicker of the story.
“Oi I was getting to that.” Fred grumbled, but I had zoned them as soon as I’d heard Cormac’s name mentioned.
My fists clenched up with absolute aggression, I could kill him. Now I had a disgusting, smug face to put to all the fear and loathing he’d caused and all I wanted to do was break said face.
“That fucker!” I shouted out into thin air, heading for the door. But Fred was the one to catch me before I reached it, dragging me back again without a second thought.
“Y/n it could be someone else,” Harry tried to reason, but it had to be him. It only made sense. The twins didn’t seem too convinced but argued another point against me going to find him myself.
“Besides Mclaggen is a big guy, if you go alone there’s no saying what he’d do to you.” George nodded in agreement with his brother and, as much as I hated to admit it, Fred was right. Cormac had been keeper on their quidditch team for a while now, and didn’t hide how much he liked to work out when flirting with girls. So why was he choosing me to be so creepy and mysterious to, not that I would’ve appreciated him doing it face to face either.
We decided to have a secret meeting later that night with everyone after telling Hermione and Ron what we’d learnt. Ron was mad, wanting to confront him immediately similarly to how I had reacted, but like the others Mione agreed that we should plan something.
“Guys like that are too proud, he won’t listen to y/n if she rejects him in person,” She had explained, cross legged at the end of my bed. I was propped up against my headboard, my knees tucked up to my body with multiple means of murder running through my mind.
“Not to mention you’d be giving him the satisfaction he’s always wanted,” Fred added, sitting on the windowsill beside me. One of his feet was hanging off the edge near me, swinging ever so slightly. Some weird part of me wanted to reach out, just for something to hold onto.
In the end it was decided that Ron, Harry and the twins would go and talk to him in the morning while they were at quidditch practice. This meant that I could go down to breakfast without the worry that he would be there, watching me from down the table. I tried to hide my fear of him, but with so many of them looking after me that night it was inevitable that at least one of them saw the tears in my eyes, if not all of them.
-
Hermione, Ron and Harry needed to go to the library to do homework after we discussed Cormac, leaving me with the twins as bodyguards which could have been worse. They did their best to take my mind off of the boy who had been writing to me about his deepest fantasies, but I wasn’t in the mood for it.
George played around with the perfume bottles lined up on the dresser, using his wand to make them dance. He had always been good at keeping himself amused. Fred had remained on the windowsill the whole time, his foot still going back and forth even when I laid on my side and found it right in my face.
He laughed lightly as I poked it away wordlessly, only to push it back into my face again. Admittedly, our little game of him swinging his foot to me so I could gently hit it away kept my mind busy for a while. Obviously it had sent me to sleep too, as I woke up when Hermione came back to let the twins go. Half asleep I groaned a thank you to them, Fred rustling my hair as he passed by and George slapping my leg in recognition.
-
Breakfast the next morning felt tense, Lavender had told people she thought it was Mclaggen which meant everyone kept coming up to ask if it was true. Some of them even tried to convince me how nice he really was, and that I was lucky to be wanted by him. Hermione of course sent them all on their way, keeping a hold of my hand as I struggled to finish even one slice of toast. All the while, my eyes remained glued to the great hall doors, hoping I wouldn’t see him turn up early from practice. The thought of seeing him at all had kept me away from the common room, a sickly feeling bubbling in my stomach knowing that the boy’s would probably be confronting him right about now.
I felt like throwing up on the spot, my friend’s hand getting crushed in my own as I saw him saunter in, his eyes immediately catching mine and giving me a smug smile. All I wanted to do was go over to where he sat down without a care and break his nose off with one punch. That would stop him from smirking so much like a pervert.
“What happened?” Hermione asked the boys when they finally arrived.
“”He’s a huge git you know.” Ron grumbled, glaring the boy down but the whole time it was me he was watching. I stopped looking after a while, my eyes glossing over as I listened to the twins explain how he’d reacted.
“I don’t think he even cares that we know,” Fred said.
“He’s proud of it really.” George added, making that sickly feeling somehow intensify.
“Even with these two around he wasn’t bothered,” Harry pointed to the older Weasley brothers with a huff.
“Yeah, and we were threatening him quite a lot.” George laughed, no one else really responding to his attempt at a cheery comment.
“We better go,”Hermione said, checking the time and taking my hand “Come on, if we don’t go now he might wait all day.” She whispered to me and I nodded, standing up with her. “Just ignore him.” The girl reminded me as we got nearer to his end of the table, his eyes following my step.
I broke from Mione’s grip, leaning across the table to him with a glare on my face. The fear had turned into anger all over again now that he was in front of me.
“You’re vile Mclaggen.”
“What’s wrong y/n?” He asked, that smirk never faltering. “Didn’t you like my love letters?”
People around him were confused, now learning that he’d been the one to stalk me these past couple of weeks. While some of them were his friends, none of them jumped to his defense.
“You need to get a fucking life, and leave me alone you freak.” I spat, standing up straight again to see a shocked Hermione waiting for me. I just smiled and took her hand again, leading her out of the hall as if nothing had happened.
“Christ y/n..” she scoffed “Well done.” I leant against the windowsill in the hallway, laughing hysterically into my hands.
“God that felt good.” I breathed a sigh of relief, not sure whether it worked or not but glad that I at least got to embarrass him for just one moment.
-
It was my mistake to let my guard down and expect nothing more from Mclaggen that day. Because what happened that very night still is the very reason people check that every door and window is locked before they go to bed.
The commotion had woken me up first, shouts and panicked scuffling coming from two different people. Then the lights were turned on, dragging me out of my sleep in a single second just to see Hermione standing in the middle of the room with her wand outstretched. At the other end, Cormac Mclaggen was backing away slowly with his hands in the air, finally a frightened look on his face. He looked over at me, now awake and frozen with fear, giving Mione a chance to shout out for help.
“RON! FRED!” she screamed, knowing just one of them had to have heard from their beds. With this Cormac ran off, Hermione shooting stunning spells after him but he dodged every one of them as he descended the tower.
“Oh my god,” I finally gasped, swallowing down hard. I broke out into a burst of tears just before the boys turned up at the door George and Harry with them, all of them with wands out for whatever was going to be inside. Hermione wrapped her arms around me, looking up at the boys but still reassuring me that it was all okay now.
“He was in here,” She said slowly, making Ron and Harry race down to the common room to see if they could catch him.
Fred and George came to my side, each taking one of my hands and holding it tight. They sat with me all through the night, letting Hermione sleep for a while. Neither of them dared drift off themselves, certain that this wouldn’t be the creep’s last attempt to get close to me.
“You can sleep if you want,” Fred whispered to me, my head leaning on his shoulder. I shook it slightly.
“I can’t.”
-
{third pov}
When y/n whispered to him that she couldn’t sleep, despite all the people there to keep watch for that dick Mclaggen, Fred decided he wanted to see him dead. There had to be more he could do, something that would make him leave her alone for good. Threats hadn’t worked on him, neither had the girl he wanted so badly confronting him. So the boy felt at a loss, yet fuelled to stop the onslaught of fear that y/n felt.
So he waited until his brother was in the shower to sneak off to the courtyard, hoping to catch the pervert on his way to his daily run by the lake.
“Oi, Mclaggen!” He called across the empty bridge, seeing him appear from the castle.
“You alright Weasley?”
“It’s Fred. And I know what you did last night?” He stood tall over the boy, but nothing seemed to waver his confidence.
“And what would that be?”
“You were there, in her room. You sick fucker.” The boy huffed, feeling himself growing more and more frustrated at Cormac’s arrogance.
“You missed quite a party,” he scoffed, raising his eyebrows. Fred reached forward, grabbing his shirt and pulling it up to his chin.
“You listen to me, Okay? Leave y/n alone.” The boy swore that the pervert’s smile grew.
“And what’s it to you Weasley.” He all but hissed.
“She’s my girlfriend.”
The words had come out quicker than he’d really had time to think over their repercussions, but seeing the look on Mclaggen’s face drop in shock made up for whatever he was going to have to do from then on.
“She.. l-likes you?” Fred dropped him again, making him stumble slightly as he thought it over.
“Afraid so buddy.”
“How long has she been yours?” He hated the way it was phrased as if y/n was a possession for one of them to own.
“Two weeks.” Fred lied yet again, the anger he’d felt pushing him continue this story. At least it seemed to bother the other boy enough.
Cormac had sent one last glare at the ginger, before going off in a huff. Finally something had worked, maybe not for good, but it at least had gotten a reaction out of him. As Fred headed back inside the castle he realised that the only way the creep’s obsessive ways could be stopped, was if y/n’s attention was somewhere else.
Now he just had to find a way to explain that to her, without her getting too mad.
-
My room was now my safe place, somewhere he couldn’t turn up without consequence. Harry had brought me some breakfast from the great hall, and Ron was doing his best to keep what little spirits we had amongst us high. Hermione and George had given up trying to convince me to tell Mcgonagall, as I assured them nothing could be done unless he was caught inside the dorm.
“It’s just our word against his,” I huffed. We were all sitting around wondering where Fred had disappeared to when he appeared at the door, an awkward smile on his face when we all looked over at him.
“So…” He started, his voice wary as if we all might snap at him for what he was abou to say. “I might have done something bad.”
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marindram · 3 years
Text
full transcription of Marin's blog from Omega Mart!
huge thanks to @b0chelly for recording a scroll-through, which i typed this out from. (and warning for Omega Mart lore/story spoilers. second half is in reblog)
Marinknows.best
Location: Seven Monolith Village
Last Login: 12/31/2019
Profile Views: 101,275
About me: I love listening to music and glitter
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June 26, 2018
Happy Birthday to meeeeeeeeee!
So 14 feels way different than 13. For real. I think it's because I was expecting 13 to feel different, but sometimes when you expect something it turns out the opposite ya know?
Plus, 13 is like, "I'm new to being a teenager!!"
14 is more like, "I'm becoming the person I want to be." At least that's how I want it to be. I wanted to start this blog as a record of all that.
I should ask Did you guys feel the same way when you turned 13 and 14?
But probably nobody's gonna read this because I'm just a weirdo in the weird dessert. I mean, I know my best friend Jesse is reading this (hi Jesse). Besides her, crickets.
But yeah, if you are reading this and you don't know me - I live in Seven Monolith Village, a teensy tiny town that you've only heard of if you're into aliens or homesteading. And I'm literally stuck. As in, I'm physically unable to leave. My first memories are of all the adults in my life (Charlie, my great-uncle/father-figure - Rose, my what? Roommate? Mother-figure? Pseudo-aunt? All of the above? and my mom, Cecelia. who doesn't live here) telling me that for some reason, there's something wrong with me that makes it so I can't leave a certain radius of where we live. I got older and thought that they were just exaggerating to keep me safe, but then last year I tried. And it was, let's just say not good.
Anyway. That part of my life sucks, but not everything sucks. This year is all about Marin Dram 2.0. Not new, but definitely improved.
And maybe someday, somehow somebody will read this and care about what I have to say. Somebodies, even. Until then, this is Marin Dram signing off and sending my lame contemplations into the void!
July 1, 2018
Things I Want To Do Before I Turn 20 (and some of these will never happen like are literally unable to happen but JUST LET ME DREAM
1. Kiss someone (who???)
2. Meet HTB (kiss him) (jk he would never) (plus meeting him would be enough)
3. Go to Paris
4. Go to Rome (or somewhere cooler in Italy, look up where is the best pasta???)
5. Go to Greenland (why not???)
6. Go to New York City
7. Go to LA (with a dream and my cardigan lol)
8. Go to the Grand Canyon (this isn't mine, but 9, Jesse is sitting right here and she went to the GC when we were 12 and she's like blah blah blah it's my favorite place in the world and you'll love it. I'm doing this so she'll shut up.
9. Live in a normal house with normal rooms → ideally 12 of them: living room AND TV room, kitchen, dining room, 3 bathrooms, 3 bedrooms, study/library.
-plus an upstairs downstairs
-I'm willing to compromise on the number of rooms as long as there's more than ONE for TWO PEOPLE and I got my own
-plus an upstairs/downstairs
-I'm willing to compromise on the number of rooms as long as there's more than ONE for TWO PEOPLE and I get my own room with an actual door. Very into doors.
10. Go to a mall (Jesse says there's a bunch of bonkers ones in Vegas)
11. Make friends who aren't Jesse (no offense, Jesse)
12. Get Cecelia (my "mom") to teach me about business stuff so I can open my own cool coffeeshop/bookstore someday
13. Learn to drive (ask Charlie to teach me, he's obsessed with his truck) (Jesse says she can teach me because she's Little Miss Mechanic and thinks she knows everything about cars but news flash Jesse: you're you get than me)
14. Figure out my signature style- like I want people to send me pictures of things and be like "this just screamed Marin" and for that to be true
15. Liquid eyeliner??
16. I'm stopping here because I just read over all this and want to die/cry because easily 3/4 of these are literally impossible?
17. Kill me
18. Bye
19. Lololol Charlie just came in and I was complaining about this, not being able to leave and stuff, etc and he said that I should visit new places by... reading books?? And I mean I like to read. But dude. That's the dumbest thing I've ever head.
July 30, 2018
Okay so this is what I want my life to look like:
I want a pink room. Not just pink... P I N K. Cool pink wallpaper (floral? jacquard??), pink carpet, lots of pink flowers everywhere, a four-poster bed with a pink silk canopy, lots of cool pink throw pillows. Like, so pink that
people think I'm being sarcastic! Oh, and BOOKS. Floor-to-ceiling bookcases, and some of the shelves have, like, STUFF on them that isn't books, like gifts people gave me, or things I've collected on my JOURNEYS. You know, normal stuff that people who live on normal places and do normal things have.
If I lived in in this room, it'd be in awhite three-story house at the end of a cul-de-sac (did you know "culs-de-sac" is the plural? Not "cul-de-sacs"? crazy) and I'd wear very classic girly clothes and my hair would always do what I wanted it to. It'd be one of those towns that people call small, but it's actually a city. just one with a kinda small, cozy feeling. Somewhere that gets cold enough to wear cute jackets but not so cold I have to to like, shovel my driveway. Not a non-place with like 100 people where you can't even go outside without going crazy.
August 2nd, 2018
I guess I should explain where I live, for all my avid fans out there! (lol) (hello??)
So like... I don't live on Earth. At least, not the Earth you think of when you think of EARTH. I live in some some weird off-brand version of Earth called the Forked Earth where there are aliens and magic wells of magic energy and everything is MAGIC but like the crappy kind of magic, where the sun never fully rises and some goo called "runoff" has made everything wacky and oh yeah, my mom is responsible for that and everyone here hates her!! LOL
Also, I can't leave! Like, literally can't! Rose says I'm a "special child of Source" and that's why but that LITERALLY explains tells me nothing, in fact it just raises further questions that no one can seem to answer! AHHHHHHHHHH
Anyway, the last time I tried to leave I felt. When I try to leave I feel like I'm being pulled back by something, like you know those old cartoons where someone's on stage doing something dumb and then someone offstage pulls them away with a giant shepard's crook? It felt like that, and when I opened my eyes I was back in 7 Monolith Village. UGH.
I know this sounds crazy!!!!! But believe me when I say that I am the least crazy person here. Also, """here""" is C R A Z Y. Runoff has made everything the bad kind of psychedelic and then people here actually DRINK IT! Not only do I not DRINK THE STUFF THAT HAS MADE THE WORLD INSANE, I also do not talk to aliens (or whatever Nula are) like Rose or believe crazy conspiracy theories like Charlie, so I believe that qualifies me as the most normal person in the Forked Earth, thank you for this honor, I accept this award with humility and grace!
September 4, 2018
I had the weirdest dream last night?? I was swimming in a pool full of cereal, and when I came up for air, my mom was pouring milk on my head like she was rinsing my hair. She had her hand over my face like I was a little kid and she was shielding me from soap getting in my eyes.
Anyway I have no idea what it's supposed to mean. I went to bed hungry and I need to take a shower? Lol
October 16, 2018
I was trying to hide this entry from Jesse, but JESSE IS A NOSY PERSON. She says that blogs are for readers, and if I wanted something to be private then I should "Just write in a fucking notebook and hide it under your bed like a normal person, Marin." I'm allowed to have secrets!! Anyway, I'm making her a freaking playlist, that's why I wouldn't tell her what I was writing about. but EVEN STILL! I'm allowed to have secrets!! But I have this blog because I wanna get my feelings out, I wanna see everything in my head typed out all nice in a way that doesn't make it look insane. You know? I don't know who I'm asking.) Because, it's not like I go to a normal school or have a normal life where I'm surrounded by normal people I can talk to. No one knows about me! I'm trapped in this crazy place and This blog is my only outlet to the world outside. I KNOW that's heavy but it's true! The point is: Jesse's birthday is coming up. The central consistent thing in pretty much my whole life is sharing headphones with her and listening to music. The soundtrack to my entire existence is her. I wish I had money and could buy her the best presents of all time, but I can make her the best playlist of all time. I want it to be so good it feels like magic. I want her to think I'm magic. I had another dream the other night. I don't remember much, just glitter. I must be crafting too much. Or looking at festival makeup tutorials. Or both.
November 12, 2018
WARNING- Weird thoughts ahead, lol.
I can never tell which feelings are normal, and which are me being a giant weirdo. But for as long as I can remember, I've had this feeling like every part of my body that's possible to have a ribbon tied around it, has a ribbon tied around it. It's so weird. I can't see the other end of the ribbons - how far they go. where they're attached, nothing. And sometimes it's fine, because sometimes I can hardly feel them. I can forget about them for days at a time, weeks, months if I'm lucky. But then other times I can feel them like, pulling at me. It's freaking spooky, to have something pulling at you from somewhere you can't see. I can't tell if it's pulling me toward whatever it is? Or if it's trying to warn me? Or if I'm just insane??
Does that make sense? Does anybody else feel that way? (she asks into the void)
So idk I guess this ribbons-feeling is why I'm really careful all the time. Like I'm just a careful person. Charlie tried to give me a hard time about it, and I can't be like "I don't wanna pull back in the ribbons too hard without realizing it and wreck something!" because he'd be like "WTF Marin, do we need to get you help?" But also, more and more, I want to be the opposite of careful. I want to take a pair of comically oversized scissors and cut the ribbons into so many pieces that nobody can even tell what they are any more.
I don't know why I'm such a freak, only that I am. I don't know why I can't leave 7 Monolith, only that I can't. But there must be a reason, even if I can't see it, and I feel like it makes sense that the ribbons-feeling is part of that reason, right?
There's just a lot.
January 15, 2019
Happy new year! Lol I forgot to write on the actual first day of 2019, but OH WELL!
I got this new glitter nail polish, thanks to the monthly makeup subscription box my "mom" sends me as an outlet for her abandonment guilt. It has like, every color glitter imaginable without quite reading as "rainbow" which is fine just not really what I was in the mood for and it's vaguely halographic and shifts into all these different colors depending on the light. I'm obsessed. Anyway.
I was putting on another layer because I chipped it like 20 minutes into wearing it, and all of a sudden I had this feeling like I recognized the glitter? Like I felt this thing way deep in my gut and for a minute I couldn't breathe. It's the closest thing I've felt to how books and movies make Christmas look. Like I was home, with family, cookies and cider and all that stuff. Familiar and safe. I almost didn't recognize that feeling. And it came from the nail polish. How weird is that.
I mean, I don't want to make it sound like I've had this awful Charles Dickens childhood - Rose and Charlie are the best ever and always there for me and I love them a lot. But things never feel like...home. You know?
My mom always says this cryptic stuff about how I'm "special" and I wanna strangle her because I'm not, but you try getting my mom to stop doing anything she wants to do. Rose told me once that one day, I would "lead the charge into a new era of existence and access" because I'm "of the Source" and I was like uhhhh okay?? Charlie mostly treats me pretty normal, except when I ask him questions about our family. my mom or any Dram. He knows that I want to know more about them and he's my only real entrypoint, but apparently he's like the black sheep of that whole family. He and my mom were close way back right before I was born, but now whenever she comes to visit he barely even looks at her.
So that's to say: nobody tells me anything, ever.
January 16, 2019
Okay this is so weird. I wrote that entry yesterday about glitter and then last night I dreamed about glitter. Then I woke up with purple glitter in my bed?? Like not a lot, so at first I thought it was from my nail polish, but it was just a handful of purely purple glitter that looks nothing like my nail polish. SO WEIRD!!!!!!
February 14, 2019
Rose has an old book full of "ye olde" style fairy tales, and I flipped through it for the first time in forever today.
Not so weirdly, I've always been drawn to the story of Rapunzel.
Rapunzel couldn't leave the tower, or else she'd break her neck and die.
Same.
February 19, 2019
I was reading this article the other day in one of the teen magazines my "mom" gets me a subscription to and it was all about body positivity, which is great, but it was basically just like "wear a crop top if you wannna wear a crop top! it doesn't matter what size you are! You go, girl!" And like, sure. Yes. I am all for that. But doesn't it seem like there are some steps missing in there? Like, I can physically put on a crop top and wear it outside. But how do I convince myself that everybody isn't looking at me and making fun of me in their minds? How do I unlearn the last almost-fifteen years? How do I get actually positive about my body, not just put on a crop top and fight the urge to cry all day?
It's the same thing like when my mom sends me brochures from the CEO camp she ten when she was my age (her dad started the camp for her, which is an insane thing just by itself, but she did all the work, which is even more insane) and she's like "Marin, you lack direction for your life" and I'm like, cool mom. Yeah. I can see that. What I can't see is how to get there from here.
March 2, 2019
This is what I want my life to look like, volume 2:
The walls of my room are covered in Polaroids of me and my friends. There are lots of mirrors in all kinds of shapes. hearts and moons and stars. There's a record player and a lot of vintage records by Billie Holiday and Lena Horne and Peggy Lee and Nina Simone. And Christmas lights! Everywhere! Lots of of pink and purple Christmas lights everywhere.
If I lived in this room, I'd have so many friends and be part of so many clubs. My best friend would have a collection of vintage cameras, and every place we go to that has a photo booth, we'd get photos taken. Every time I'd look at myself in one of those mirrors, I'd feel happy at what I see and never weird or sad. (Jesse hates taking pictures, so even when I actually do normal stuff with her there's no evidence. What even is a life supposed to be without evidence? That's not an actual question you need to answer Jesse, it's just a question)
Anyway, if I lived in this kind of room, my mom would probably be like, an art history professor at a liberal arts college. That's how come everything looks so cool, because I would know stuff about art. My mom and I would love to try new recipes together. We get each other new cookbooks for every special occasion, and right now we're working out way through a Moroccan one. Moroccan Mondays.
In actuality, there's a dust storm happening outside and my eyes sting.
March 9, 2019
Here's what I'm obsessed with lately.
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Can. You. EVEN???
February 3, 2020
Omg I totally forgot this blog existed!!
I lost the password and instead of just resetting it I got in one of my super stubborn moods (Taurus moon lol) and just kept putting in guesses and jokes on me, it locked me out. Anyway, that's a boring story.
But my friend Ximena is really good at hacking and stuff, so she got me back in. Yeah you read that right - I have friends. Obviously a lot has happened since my last post. Ximena moved out here a couple months ago (X's family used to live here but they moved away a while ago) and she introduced me to Lora who I sorta-not-really already knew, and Jesse and I have been hanging out with them a ton. Jesse kind of more than me. Which is fine!!
Anyway I'm 15 now? If I lived somewhere normal I'd be psyched about almost being 16, because I'd get a car and have a Sweet Sixteen and eat a huge PINK cake, but I don't!
February 16, 2020
I read this fanfic the other night that was written in the second person so everything was like "you." "you're doing this" etc you know?
So... You go to a drive-in movie with Heartthrob Boy, and he spills soda on you by accident. And you take off your shirt ( you have a tank top on, don't worry) to clean it up, bit you're still all sticky and self-conscious about being sticky and HTB like... used his tongue to get it off??? AAHHHHH I'M DISGUSTING
but also I wonder if a boy will ever touch any part of me with his tongue
March 2, 2020
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Hi I don't know if you heard but I have friends :)))
March 15, 2020
I think I'm so into painting my nails and doing my hair because those are things that always fit. I don't have to worry about places not carrying about a size 8, or places that carry XLs but when you read the measurements they're actually size 8s too and it's like jesus if that's an XL what am I
My "mom" was confused why I needed new pants because mine still look new, but I showed her the thigh holes and she was like "that's a weird place for a hole, how did that happen" and I realized that when your legs are a certain size, you just don't know about thigh rub and what it does to clothes. Pants could just last for years.
No matter what, I can paint my nails with a different color nail polish on every finger, and I can always do a braid crown. And I know I'm cute as hell, etc, so this is not a Marin Needs to Learn to Love Herself thing. It's just an UGH thing
April 17, 2020
So Rose does all these Source experiments on plants and flowers and stuff. Tbh, it's just one if those things I hardly even register anymore because it's just always there. She's explained to me a million times what Source is/does/means, but the way Rose explains things sometimes is just a LOT to take in and she refers to me as a "child of Source" but I kinda figure that's like "child of God" right? What else would that mean?
But anyway, it's really annoying because dried flowers are a part of my new aesthetic and I pinned a bunch of them up on my wall but I woke up this morning to a freaking jungle of very alive flowers. I freaked out. on Rose, and she Rose said she didn't do it and I was like WELL THEN WHO DID and she said that I did??
Which like. Obviously that doesn't make sense. I asked her what she meant and She just shook her head and said " It's happening. We should have known" which is some horror movie shit that she refused to elaborate on. I love to feel safe and normal!!
Or maybe it's not a horror movie at all. But maybe it's a superhero movie? Maybe there's some kind of origin story I don't know about yet, and all of this will be worth it once I figure out my powers. I wonder what my costume will look like. Lol.
April 23, 2020
Is it possible to die from longing? I know that sounds melodramatic, but I'm also kinda serious?? Because it seems like one of those things that could fester and get infected and kill you. It's like when you fall down and bang up your knee, and you need to put a band-aid on the scrape for a while, but THEN you need to air it out - but how do you know when you're supposed to do each one of those things? And if you do either one too much, your knee gets infected. What if I smother my heart with band-aids for too long and it gets infected? This isn't about anybody. I just keep having these dreams about someone I never expected to have dreams about and they're so intense that they keep leaking into my life and I wonder if I need to do something about them.
May 2, 2020
So Jesse's gotten really into metal music, and I tried to get her to play me something since, AS PREVIOUSLY ESTABLISHED, that's what we've literally ALWAYS DONE with music and each other, and she kinda looked at Ximena out of the corner of her eye and said like "I don't think it's really your thing" And it was the meanest thing anybody's ever said to me.
So later I looked up Zenion, the band she was talking about, and I listened to every single fucking song they've ever recorded turned up as loud as it could go with my own headphones that are better than hers anyway, and I loved it. And I didn't love it just because she said I wouldn't. I loved it because it was loud and weird and wild and when I listened to it it made me feel like it's not crazy when so feel stuff so hard it's like my heart's gonna vibrate out of my body. And I would have told Jesse all this and we could have shared it, but I guess she thinks just because I like HTB and glitter and stuff, I don't have the capacity for anything else.
She clearly doesn't know me at all. So much for any kind of whatever, why would she ever want to kiss someone she clearly sees as like a stupid baby.
May 7, 2020
The dreams are getting weirder and they're happening more. I'm getting scared to go to sleep. Not that the dreams are always scary (they almost never are, or not scary like in a typically scary horror movie way). I mean, I've only ever been me. I don't know what other peoples' dreams are like.
The other night in one I was jumping on a trampoline, which is something I've never done in real life. I told Rose about it when I woke up, and she said "do you even know how to jump on a trampoline?" and I said "Rose, it's not like riding a bike. You don't have to learn. You just jump." and then we got into this whole thing about how some things we just know, and jumping's one of them, and how that's so weird. Sometimes I really like talking to Rose about stuff.
May 19, 2020
So, it's prom season in the real world. If I lived somewhere normal, my prom dress would be pink with lots of tulle and silk flowers at the shoulders, and it would fit perfectly and trying in dresses would be fun and not anxiety-inducing.
But since there are only like 10 teenagers currently in 7MV, were not having a homecoming. Cool.
May 27, 2020
So, mom came to visit this weekend, and I asked her about her prom. She was Typical Cecelia at first, very "Prom is a waste of time and money, Marin. It's a night when lesser people play dress-up to engage with their aspirations of grandeur." And I was like eyeroll forever and just stopped talking. BUT THEN she actually talked to me like a human being. She was like, "I actually didn't go to my prom" and when I asked her why she said that she didn't have a date, and was very self-conscious about it. I almost passed out at her admitting that she's ever been anything less than perfect.
(gonna continue this in reblog)
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Note
Night at the museum Preference general fluff??
NATM deserves more love
(I do not own NatM or it’s characters/ gifs not mine)
Larry
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Larry isn’t usually an overly affectionate person neither does he feel the need to suffocate people in love but deep down he’s been hurt
Larry is actually very romantic if you work at the museum you can bet he’ll leave roses in your locker or a trinket in your pocket
However he also includes you like you were one mind and body you’ll see him do the most reckless things without anyone else’s input or help but with you he listens and more often than not takes you with him hand in hand to anyone else it’s small but it means a lot
You’re not spared from his awful jokes either he does it to get you to smile at least a little he finds it comforting
Larry will cook dinner no matter how his cooking skills may be you do so much for him even when he’s practically off the rails crazy the least he can do is let you relax
Both of you lay over each other as well not necessarily in a romantic way although that is a thing, sometimes one of you just flops down on the other and that’s it for the day
You definitely have to keep track of his stuff like keys and wallets he loses them all the time it’s better if you just take them it’s rewarding as well especially when he pulls you for a kiss after almost having a heart attack
Ahkmenrah
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Cuddles and affection for days this pharaoh is touch starved and he’s only just found the love of his life once the main boundary is broken he’s all over you
Compliments you in almost every language he knows just to hear you beg for him to say it again or ask him what it means since most of them are ancient
He loves when you bring him back modern things like puzzles, fairy lights, sweets and chocolate and books he especially loves curling up to you and watching every movie ever made until the sun comes up and by curling up to you your bodies may as well be one
Hand holding is a big yes he’s never actually held someone’s hand like that before and he blushes every time you initiate it
Ahk knows you work hard and having you come to see him each night is a luxury and he loves you so much for it in return he’ll massage the knots from your muscles, carry you to his exhibit and let’s you fall asleep on him he secretly wants you to fall asleep on him
When Ahk kisses you he does it like his life depends on it, I’m talking holding you as close as possible, fingers through your hair and feeling dizzy afterwards and he’s most likely the most dominant he may be gentle and shy but he was a king
Teddy
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He’s rather simplistic but in a way that makes everything so much nicer since it’s mostly ingrained into normalities
The way Teddy jumps off his horse to greet you will never not be sweet beyond belief especially when he drags you gently to show you something new he’s been doing or something that’s happened while you were away
Hand holding and knuckle kisses he has a thing for hands and formalities he’s never not greeted you with a kiss to the top of your hand when you arrive and before you leave
Takes you on his horse round the museum almost every night and he loves to watch you be friendly with the other exhibits it makes everyone feel more like a family
Teddy can’t be with you all the time and bad days are inevitable but he listens he’d listen for hours if it made you feel better and it’s not mindless either he can recall almost anything to told him it’s a way of showing he cares
He’s a gentleman to the max, nothing is done without your concent and happiness secured even something like helping you onto his horse
Warm hugs are given anywhere feeling sad? Warm hug haven’t seen each other for a while? Warm hug and he knows you like them so he does it that but more often
Attila
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It’s actually rather strange never once did Attila yell, chase or even make any attempt to scare you when you first met and that carried into your closeness you can be in a room with him alone and be more than comfortable to annoy him you feel completely safe around him
Him and his men have definitely played games together like football, dodgeball and tennis with you Attila will not participate and will most likely throw a fit if he’s not on the same team as you
Hugs forever if you’re stressed he’ll hug you, working yourself away, he’ll pull you into a hug and walk you away from your work you could even be doing nothing and he’d run up and hug you
Attila knows there’s still danger around even in the museum so he teaches you a few tricks with a blade or just some self defence and offence moves but he hopes he’ll be the one doing the fighting not you though he did come to the conclusion you had a pretty decent swing
He never wears his intimidating face around you, he’s all smiles and happiness in fact he barely uses his intimidating face anymore well unless Cecil crops up again
Flowers and little things he’s made are perhaps the sweetest thing he’s ever done, how he gets the flowers he doesn’t tell you suspect Larry is behind it but they’re always so beautiful and he gets so excited when you show visible happiness
He blushes like mad when you hug him in return or even bring him flowers back, his favourite are sunflowers and he literally hoists you into the air when you get him some
Kahmunrah
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He doesn’t mean to be but Kahmunrah is hilarious when he’s not on about upping his brother just listen in to one conversation and you’ll be in tears and after realising he plays into it more to make you laugh
He literally treats you as his queen, he’s stated on multiple occasions that if you were with him when he was king you’d be crowned immediately to anyone observing they’d think you’re royalty
Kahmunrah isn’t used to it but he will take you for a walk round wherever you are and talk to you about your day or what happened the first few times it turned to a one sided rant but he’s gotten better
You’ll have to teach him how to hug, he’s extremely tense and never really had that sort of contact but once he’s finally comfortable with it he’s a decent hugger, he accepts your hugs at almost any time and he’s strong enough to make them tight but not strong enough to make it uncomfortable
He trusts you with the tablet and his most valued possessions it’s a rather small thing but it’s a sign that the trust is very present and very strong
Kahmunrah is also extremely overprotective of you it’s mostly sweet for example he gets very angsty when you’re doing something dangerous like climbing a tree to get a cat down he literally followed you around ready to catch you at any given moment
Fall asleep on him and he feels so happy he can’t figure out why, he’s a terrifying pharaoh yet he finds it so endearing when you’re cuddled up on his lap
(It’s late sorry it’s not the best I’ve ever written)
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rainywritingsx · 4 years
Text
Scenario: Shoji, Todoroki and Midoriya protecting their very shy s/o
Request: Would you be okay writing about Shoji, Shoto and Izuku protecting a very shy s/o? Maybe someone is mean to them or there's something falling from somewhere. S/o can't stand up to ppl (maybe s/o is also not in the hero course but in u.a.?) thamk so much and have a nice day ~the one you matched with shoji btw lol
oh hi there :D this request is so cute, I hope I did okay with writing it! You didn’t specify whether you wanted  a scenario or headcanon, so I went with scenarios, hope that’s okay. Have fun reading!
xxx Damla
Reminder that as of right now, requests are closed!
Warnings: none :)
words: 2670
If you’d like to give me a small tip, you can buy me a coffee! ^^
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Shoji Mezo
As soon as the bell rang, I pretty much jumped out of my seat and left the classroom. Finally, I can leave. This class isn’t particularly my favourite, which is due to the fact that I don’t have any friends here. Most of them, as well as my boyfriend, are in the hero course.
When I arrived at my locker, I was surprised not to find Shoji waiting as usual. Maybe he had to train? Right at that moment my phone beeped. I opened my bag and took it out. Shoji had texted me.
I’m sorry love, I was training in teams with Tokoyami and he got injured. I will be there in 10 minutes
A soft smile spreads across my face. He really is one of the most caring people I know. While I’m not exactly happy to be alone, it’s most likely that some of Shoji’s classmates can be found in the cafeteria, so I will just go there.
I open my locker and quickly take out the books I need after lunch. Luckily there aren’t many, since I only have English and then PE. I close it again and zip up my backpack before making my way to the cafeteria. Luckily it isn’t that far, and the halls are empty.
I look outside out of the large windows. The sun is shining brightly, and it's clear that it’s spring. Many flowers have bloomed, and I see a lot of birds. There are people having their lunch outside, some are even training. Wow, that’s some dedication… My eyes land on Jirou, who is sitting at a table with Yaoyorozu. Our gazes meet and she smiles before patting the spot next to her. Alright, I guess I’ll eat outside too.
I make my way towards the door. It’s pretty heavy, but thankfully I manage to open it. I’m about to run up to the girls, but I freeze when I hear what I think is the door slamming against someone.
“Oi! What the fuck!” I turn around wide eyed, to see someone whom I thought to be a student of my homeroom class. I don’t remember his name, but he has never been very nice to me. Something gives me the idea that I’m in trouble. I gulp and slowly walk backwards on the grass, but soon my back hits a wall.
“I-I’m so-”
“you’re sorry?” he interrupts, taking a step closer to me. I cower slightly. His closeness is making me way too uncomfortable. “Yeah, you better be! Maybe if you stopped daydreaming about your stupid boyfriend from class 1-A you’d actually notice your surroundings.” I’m speechless. A billion thoughts are running through my head. I want to curse at him for talking about Shoji like that, but my body isn’t doing anything. It’s like I’m glued to the brick wall my body is resting against
“You’re gonna pay for-”
“It was an accident.” An indescribable amount of relief comes over me when Shoji stands in front of me. His right hand reaches behind him for mine, and I immediately hold it. It’s only now that I realise my hands had been shaking the whole time, just like my legs. The guy who was almost yelling at me a second ago, now has a smirk on his face but I can tell he’s a little intimidated.
“Still, your partner should look where they’re going.” I can’t see any of their faces, but by his posture I can tell that Shoji remains completely calm and unfazed as usual.
“Okay,” he calmly responds. “I’m sure you’ve given them enough of a scare, so they’ll be more careful in the future. Still, I don’t think it was okay for you to talk to them like that. That wasn’t exactly behaviour fit for a UA student.” he didn’t even comment anymore, but just bowed to us both and apologised, his tone shaky. Before I knew it he was gone. He was all talk, I knew it.
Shoji turns back to me, still holding my hand and I smile. “Thank you, Shoji.” I can see his eyes moving upwards a bit, which shows he’s smiling too.
“No need to thank me. I guess it isn’t always bad to look scary to people.” I can’t help but laugh at that. Shoji’s appearance is something that he’s insecure about, so knowing that he can joke about it a bit makes me happy.
However, I can’t help but feel bad for not being able to have said anything to that guy when he was insulting Shoji. And I was sure he heard it too…
“I’m sorry.” I sigh, looking down in shame. For a moment, there's silence. Then I see Shoji’s feet taking another step closer to me. His other hand grabs mine as well.
“Can you look at me, please?” his tone wasn’t demanding, rude, or angry. He’s calm, it’s a simple request. He gives me the idea that even if I said no it would be fine, but I look at him nonetheless.
“Y/n, I really don’t care that much about people like that. He doesn’t know me, or you. I only care about what you and the other people in my life think. You don’t need to defend me. I know people like that don’t change minds easily.” I have to admit that he’s right. I mean, I don’t even know his name, so why did I care that much?
“Let’s go, I saw you were on your way to Jirou and Yaoyorozu, right? Tokoyami is there too now.”  I nod and Shoji is about to walk, but he stops when he realises I’m still standing. I smile and walk over to him, stand on my toes and kiss his cheeks. A giggle leaves my mouth when I see his eyes have widened. Even though I would usually have the same reaction, today is different.
“Yep, I’m ready now.”
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Todoroki Shouto
Of course, as soon as one person found out I’m dating Shoto, the news spread around the school like fire. Of course I notice the glances at me in hallways, the quiet whispers, the way that people approach me now. Some act nicer, but there also some that seem to suddenly dislike me. And I can’t do anything about it.
In theory I can, but I’ve never been able to even tell someone that their tone was rude, or that something was uncalled for. I’ve even been called names sometimes, and when people see my flustered face, they laugh and throw more insults at me.
Despite all this, Shoto isn’t aware. I never told him, and I’m not planning to. He already has enough going on for him and what has been happening to me just seems like a mild inconvenience at this point. It’s times like this where I’m glad that he isn’t the type of person to keep pushing if he wants to know something.
And of course this happens today too, as I’m walking to the hero course department of UA. I can already hear some people snicker at the fact that I’m even here. I ignore it, because as usual, I don’t want to cause a scene.
My eyes scan the hallway. His classroom is supposed to be somewhere here, but where? Idiot, y/n, you had to ask him what class he currently is in. Now I have to check everywhere.
I don’t see any students from 1-A so he definitely has a class right now. At least I know something. I look through the windows in the doors, but every classroom is empty. Why are there even so many classes here? Maybe I can ask a teacher what subject 1-A has right now. Wait, but isn’t that weird? No, they probably know that I’m looking for Shoto.
In my train of thought, I completely forget my surroundings. So it’s no surprise that I bump into someone and fall on the ground. I hiss when my knees graze the floor, but then remember that that was a person that I bumped into. I look up and my eyes widen when I see Monoma from class 1-B. He looks down at me with a smirk and laughs at my confused state.
“Look who’s here. Looking for your boyfriend?” Without thinking, a billion apologies leave my mouth as I place my books that had fallen earlier back into my bag. My knees feel like they’re burning but I’m more worried about what just happened.
“Wow,” Monoma chuckles. I can feel his eyes on me as I finally zip up my bag and get up. “Can’t even walk properly. I knew that the other departments were losers, but this?” My grip on my bag tightens as he speaks.
“Well, at least you’re kinda good-lookingI guess. Still, I would’ve thought someone from 1-A would go for a person who’s way better than you.” In surprise, I lift my head up. Of course the thought of Shoto deserving better has crossed my mind before. He’s the son of the current number one hero, of course people expect someone who’s the opposite of me. I always try to tell myself it’s amazing I even got into UA at all, but at times I cannot help but wonder if it would be better for Shoto to leave me.
“You know it too, don’t you?” Monoma continues. “No need to tell me, I can see it in your eyes. You want to say so much, but you’re way too much of a coward to do it.” he laughs and looks away for a moment.
“That’s why everyone picks on you and your sweet prince charming has no idea. You can’t even stand your ground, how pathetic. Nobody understands what he even sees --” his voice trails of. Monoma moves his head to his side, and his grin widens.
“Ah, there he is, just as I was speaking about him!” I turn around and gasp when I see Shoto walking in our direction. Shit. He saw it all, didn’t he?
“Your prince charming just knows when to save you, huh? I mean, with such a weak significant other, I probably-”
“My classes are done, let’s go y/n.” Todoroki says, completely ignoring Monoma’s presence. He grabs my hand and is about to walk away.
“One more thing.” he says as he turns around and looks at him.
“Y/n is the best partner I could ask for, and if all you care about is what their education is, you are the disappointment here.” he glances back at me and grabs my hand with a small smile. “Let’s go.”
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Midoriya Izuku
The silent aura of the library usually brings me at peace, but today, as I’m entering it by myself, I feel uneasy. A part of me feels like everyone’s eyes are burning through me. So, I keep my gaze down and just walk over to a random bookshelf. As I lift my head again and look through some books, I try nonchalantly scanning the library for any sign of my boyfriend, but Izuku is nowhere to be found.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, so I quickly grab it and see that Izuku texted me.
“I’m sorry sweetheart, I had to help Kaminari with something related to Hero Studies. I’ll be there soon. I love you ❤︎.”
He’s too sweet. I text him back, assuring him that it’s okay and put my phone back in my pocket. Maybe I should pick one book and read it until Izuku comes here, or else I’ll be bored doing nothing. Also, I feel like people keep whispering about me here.
Izuku may not be the most popular student of this school, but people definitely know of him. I mean, he’s a class 1-A student, he worked at Nighteye’s agency, and has done more impressive stuff. So obviously, when he gets in a relationship people will talk about it. While I do get it, I also hate the attention it brings. People have been mostly nice to me luckily, so that’s a relief.
I decide to take a seat at a table with only a few people. It’s also close to the entrance door, so Izuku will be able to spot me easily when he gets here. After also placing my bag on the ground, I finally start reading. After what feels like a few minutes, but probably is a lot more, I’m already halfway through the thing.
“Y/n?” a familiar voice whispers. A smile can’t help but grow on my face as I turn my head to find Izuku standing next to me.
“Hi.” I reply. He smiles and kisses me cheek, to which my eyes widen. We’re in public, what is he doing? I quickly cover my face with the manga I was reading earlier, so people don’t see my embarrassed expression. Izuku only giggles softly.
“Babe, there’s almost nobody here.” he reassures me. “and I missed you.” he adds with a small pout. Ugh, I can’t be mad at him when he makes that adorable face.
“O-okay.” I close the manga and get up. “I’ll just put this back, and then we can start studying.” he follows me to the shelf.
“So, how was your day?” I ask as my eyes scan for the right manga series. Izuku starts telling me about his day, making me almost laugh a few times when he mentions some silly moments, like Sero and Kaminari trying to prank Bakugou but only failing and angering him as a result.
“Oh, and we will get to work with the other departments of the school for some projects, I’m really excited about that.” I smile. Yeah, that sounds fun.
“What is it for?”
“Well,” I accidentally bump into the bookshelf behind me and yelp quietly. “Mr Aiza-Y/n careful!” I squeeze my eyes closed, preparing for anything falling on top of me, but I feel nothing. My eyes open again and I look up. Izuku is holding some books that would’ve landed on me if he wasn’t here. His expression shows that he was a little scared, but soon relief takes over.
“I thought something was going to happen to you..” he sighed as he placed the books back on the shelf. I awkwardly stand up straight and fiddle with my fingers, mumbling a soft apology. Of course I had to be stupid and not take in my surroundings
“Hey, it’s okay.” he grabs my hands and smiles. “I’m not upset, I’m just glad you’re alright. Just be a little more careful next time, okay, honey?” I nod, trying to hide how flustered the nickname makes me feel and squeeze his hands softly. I look at his hands, and rub my thumbs over them. There are a few new bruises on there.
“Did you get hurt again?” I ask, examining his knuckles. Izuku chuckles awkwardly.
“I-It’s nothing, don’t worry about it. I already went to Recovery Girl for it.” he lets go of one of my hands and wraps an arm around my shoulders.
“I-Izuku, there’s people here…” I say hurriedly, hoping that nobody will see us. I’m not embarrassed by him, of course not. It’s just that I always feel a bit nervous when it comes to PDA.
“I have an idea. How about we study in my dorm room? Can I have cuddles then?” he asks sweetly while removing his hands from me. I nod softly.
“That sounds nice..”
“Okay, let’s get some of your favourite snacks first and then go.” my face lights up and I nod again.
“Let’s go.” I hear him giggle before we both leave the library.
“Oh, we can also get dinner together somewhere if you want, I’m sure there’s food in the kitchen or we can get take-”
“Izuku.” I stop him. “L-let’s get those snacks and study first.” he chuckles and nods.
“Yeah, sorry, I’m just really happy we get to hang out again. Let’s go then, the grocery store is only a few minutes away from UA.”
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sorry-i-ship-drarry · 3 years
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37. You're my home, draco
Putting their head on other's chest | For @thebusyfangirl for being extremely supportive with all the reblogging, I cannot thank you enough| angst | hurt comfort | happy ending | fluff
" well that's not my problem harry, is it ? If you can't fucking do one thing on your own that's your damn fault " draco yelled from across the kitchen at harry who was standing in the middle of the living room looking agitated
" I do things on my own. It's that you are the one who keeps thing's in the house, not me and if you're not responsible enough for it just say it " harry yelled back.
Furiously draco stomped out of the kitchen " responsible? So this is your house when it's about the house lease and paper's and suddenly when it comes to keeping thing's, it's mine. When was the last time you were responsible enough to keep things in the right place on your own? If for once you could fold your own clothes or do your own laundry or maybe just not fucking throw things anywhere you want to, so I'd pick up then maybe, Maybe for once you wouldn't have to ask me where your shit is !! It's not just my own responsibilities " draco yelled at harry face talking off the apron off his waist
" you know what you are right, I'll do my damn shit on my own Because you're fucking irresponsible with whatever you do. After all why would you understand the load of work I have to do each day, going after the bad guys.. if even for one day you'd go things I do then you'd understand where I'm coming from But if this is the way it's going to be, you do your own shit and I'll do mine "harry sneered back
" work ? You're saying as if I don't do work? I teach at least 6 classes in a day, check almost 200 copies, sit with a bunch of teachers who are much more older than me, clean the mess of the potions students make, don't you dare compare our work! Just because your work requires more strength or power or maybe responsibility, doesn't mean I don't do shit "
" draco, you're a damn teacher. I am a goddamn auror. I put my life on line everyday so I can make money for us-"
" and you're not the only man making money in this house. I earn only 200 galleons less than you do and that's not even a huge deal so stop making it seem as if you're the man of the House or that you are doing a great deal for me because let me be honest, the only thing you do for me is creating problems and fighting, that's it " draco yelled and stormed out of the house before harry could've yelled back further.
Harry groaned loudly shutting off the house and storming away himself to get away from the horrors the place held. Both of them Only returned much later after midnight at the same time and went to bed immediately without saying even a single word. And the next morning, draco left the house much more earlier than he was supposed to, leaving a note that he'd be at Hogwarts for at least a week as per the requirements by the school board to finish off with the heavy work left pending. At first harry was Happy seeing the note, thinking to himself that the house would be Empty after so Long.
But he was wrong.
At night when he came back to a messed up home, no cooked meal, he felt slightly furious and almost called out to draco but realised quickly that he wasn't home. Not dropping much thought over it, cleaned up the place, freshened up and decided to order food instead of cooking. But 4 days in, harry found himself much more tired and in desperation to just see Draco. The thing was harry knew why draco was staying an entire week at school, he knew his husband very well, he would never leave any pending work but just the realisation that draco needed a break from harry and the house, he found it saddening on a lonely night.
" so what'd he say last before he left ?" Ron asked as they chatting up about their Harry's current problems with marriage over brunch away from work for sometime
" something about him earning not significantly less than me and how I'm irresponsible and creating problems. I'm just tired Ron, lately all we do is fight. You wouldn't believe, just last week we were fighting about changing a wallpaper and you'd expect that it got resolved but it didn't. We didn't talk and that was it. It just- I don't know- like the whole marriage thing really work out for us " harry replied sadly
Ron looked at harry understandingly.." I understand you harry but I don't think he's entirely wrong-"
" so you also think I'm irresponsible-"
" Merlin, don't get your knickers in twist. All I'm saying maybe he isn't wrong. You've fought with me quite often too lately but we're friends harry, but it's different with him, he's your husband. He needs you and you can't possibly deny that you've been nice to people lately. When was the last time you bought Hermione flowers or told her she looked not a today older than she is or the last time you called Ginny about her games or take neville, when did you even call him last to see how he's doing ? The thing is Harry you've been so work involved that you've barely acknowledged the people around you. Remember 2 months after you got married and you told me marrying draco was the best thing you did, what happened to that ?"
Harry's face drew upset, knowing that Ron was in fact right. He'd been so into himself that he had barely made time for the rest of them " I don't know Ron. I just feel like maybe it's all getting out of hands. Like my plates full maybe-"
" like you need a break?"
Harry nodded.
" look Hermione and me have known you the longest and she haven't seen you in so long but she knows somethings up. We know you harry, we understand how you get when you're stressed or angry even but this, this isn't who you are. After everything you've been through and go through each day we understand you but to me you'll always be the harry potter who broke his glasses like a million times in school yet refused to buy new one's because you liked them or the harry potter who hung me by my feet or the harry potter who'd die than leave his friends " ron gave harry the most perfect smile for the situation.
Harry sighed " what am I doing wrong Ron ?"
" you've forgotten who you are and a little maybe the people around you or you're probably letting something eat you alive.. whatever it is harry, do something about it or it'll be too late to fix things" and by that harry knew he meant draco.
Harry nodded at Ron, thinking about what he'd do next to remind his husband, that he is still his lover.
When it came to Saturday night, almost a night before draco would come back, harry firmly sat back on the couch looking at the empty spot besides him with his favourite television show running in the back, yet all he could think was about the memories with draco, the times he made him laugh and now harry didn't even remember in the last one year they've been married the last time harry made his husband laugh. Harry switched off the tv, sighing, getting up from the couch and going into the storage room. He cleared the dust, blowing some away, then turning on a little lamp around the corner. Following his instincts, harry went deeper into the pit of storage and found his things back from the school days. Falling into nostalgia, harry took his school thing's, a few things after that and album's he had gotten made and went back to living room and set everything on the ground.
Memories probably never leave you yet sometimes you need to be reminded of who you are to become who you want to be and that's exactly what harry was doing, figuring out when he became the person he is Today. He went through things after things he had from school, his defense against dark arts books, the model of something science related he made for muggle studies and the albums. Pictures after pictures with people he loved, he found himself drowning into it. It had been so long since the last time he contacted any of them and it saddened him. This isn't who he is, yet somehow this is exactly who he is. As sadness started to fill into his lungs, he finally opened the last box he had retrieve and opened it to find things related to draco. They started going out late in 8 th year and going through a lot of post-war things, Harry had maintained a diary in a muggle way to vent out but most of the end of the diary was filled with how draco looked so good under the moon or how draco was mindlessly biting the top of pencils or biting his lip during class or how his dates went.
Without glancing up harry said " don't leave me "
" how did you know I came ? " Draco asked as he stepped into the living room and sat down next to harry
" you're my soulmate draco, I can sense whenever you're around me "
" you can ?" Draco frowned, not believing harry could still do it.
" just because I've became this huge asshole doesn't mean I've stopped loving you draco "
" it doesn't hurt to remind every once in a while "
Harry looked up finally to see an upset draco sitting next to him with a sad smile " I do tell you I love you "
" when was the last time you said that to me?" Draco asked smiling lightly
Harry frowned lightly, confused but immediately realised he hadn't spoken the words out in almost 5 months " fuck- I'm sorry- shit"
" yeah " draco signed looking down at the things harry was going through " what's all this ?"
" this- school stuff. And this is a box specifically about you " harry pushed the box a little box towards draco
" I own an entire separate box ?" Draco chuckled
" you own an entire different separate place in my life too and I think me becoming an asshole forgot that " harry replied sadly. Draco looked at harry sympathetically before pulling him forward towards him and wrapping his arms around Harry's torso..
" that's all I wanted to hear " draco's voice broke. Harry leaned in further, his head pressed against draco's chest, small tears escaping his eyes and wetting draco's shirt.
" I'm sorry. I never meant to be this problematic and with the whole fighting things. I'm so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you but I just, I'm such an asshole" harry rambled
" you're not an asshole harry. Hey look at me- you are a brilliant man who sometimes needs a break. I haven't been less of an ass to you myself but everyone have a rough patch in marriage and we will get past this too. We're special harry, remember. We're Always special " draco smiled holding Harry's face in his hands
" I don't want to be this person. I just want to be yours and I don't want to fight you, I don't want to yell at you or you to yell at me and i don't want you ever leaving me alone.. I can't- I don't want to be without you draco, I don't know how to be. I've been so selfish that forgot to tell you how much I love you for 5 months, I don't ever want that again. I want to tell you everyday how much I love you. I don't want all these fights, I hate it without you. It doesn't feel like home without you draco, you're my home and with you gone, nothing makes sense, not even me " harry sobbed.
Draco eyes welled up with tears " I don't want all this too harry. I want to be entirely yours and yours forever. I Always Want you to be my home. Fuck I love you- I've missed you so much "
" I missed you too. I love you draco, I love you so so so much, I love you "
" I know you do " draco smiled. He softly kissed the top of Harry's head, then his cheeks, his eyes, his forehead and finally his lips.
" don't ever leave me, ever "
" never " Draco sobbed, their foreheads touching each other, taking in deep breaths with tears running down their faces like a small river.
It was sometime later when they started going through Harry's thing's together with harry cuddled into draco.
" what's this ?" Draco asked as he picked out a small dry petal
" oh, this was from the restaurant I proposed in "
" and this ?"
" this is- I think the handkerchief you left the night we first kissed "
" oh, nice, what this ?"
" I think that's the note I wrote to you to ask you out for first date but never sent it "
" real smooth harry " draco chuckled. Harry rolled his eyes, playfully hitting draco over his chest before picking up and showing him thing's again.
" you still have that paper boat from our first date ?" Draco asked softly gazing at harry
" well- I still think it's the most perfect boat ever made " harry smiled at draco before pressing a small kiss over his lip.
It was harry who Always imagined that, that perfect little boat was the reasons for everything they have right now, but draco never needed to know that, after all he was his special man and he made him the happiest man in the whole world even if sometimes the boat drowned a bit..
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Day 36- angel | Day 38- set it up, break it up
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enha-woodzies · 3 years
Text
➸ CHAPTER 8 | " AFIRE LOVE "
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starring: enhypen ft. i-land daniel
pairing: jungwon x fem!reader x sunghoon
genres: royal au, romance, angst, slowburn, 18th century setting
word count: 3.8k
warning: very mild swearing; brief arguments
taglist: @serendipitysung (betareader) @angeljungwon @en-sun @affectionaterainoflove @renkiv @softforjungwoo @jislix @gyeraniee @fluffi @stxrryemxlys @jungwon-luv-bot @lost-lepord-beanie @hyunsunge
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[ PREV. CHAPTER ] | [ M. LIST ] | [ NEXT CHAPTER ]
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a/n: this has been the longest chapter in the series so far and i'm loving it. grateful for taylor swift's songs that helped me through this chapter also,, please listen to exile as it ideally expresses the ruination between jungwon and y/n (and also an addition to the burning feels,, ㅋㅋ)
~
Daniel paid a visit to the Royal Garden to fetch his brother, Jungwon, a few Catalpa flowers that were freshly scattered on the royal lawn. In hopes that his brother could still mend the book’s soul by giving a home to the fallen blossoms, Daniel obliged to help when he saw Jungwon’s crestfallen state the moment he got home from Kielder Forest the other day.
The tall, plump gent hums a tune, oblivious enough to the presence of the pair that were roaming around the garden prior to his arrival. He peeks through the side as he noted the familiar voice, gently tiptoeing through the crisp, dried leaves and twigs sprawled along the ground. He soon realizes it was the marquess and the young miss, sharing careful whispers that made him eager enough to eavesdrop.
He could hear everything but dare not open his eyes. Daniel knew he must keep still while he waited for the perfect opportunity to run back to their manor, bearing the newfound knowledge he grasped.
If it was Sunoo, he wouldn't have second thoughts. Though Daniel's ordeal prevented him the first time, he soon remembered how menacing Sunghoon was and grew concerned for the young miss’ innocence, all the while hiding among the shrubs for a determined snoop.
“So long as Jungwon keeps his emotions repressed, this ruse shall continue on.”
Daniel’s eyes widened in horror upon hearing the young miss’ affirmation to Sunghoon’s statement.
Without wasting any more of his time, he cautiously bore the silence until he reached the Park’s manor to apprise Niki of such mischief.
“Niki! Niki! Niki”
“What?!”
“Y/n’s made a deal with the devil himself.”
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START OF YANG JUNGWON's POV
I sat and observed you reading with your head bowed. The world was quiet and peaceful that night, and your small hand was wrapped around my finger. Your touch brought forth an omnipresent coolness, sending electric tingles throughout my body. My longing for you fitted perfectly in the palm of your freezing hand. We quietly sat there, your head on my shoulder, in a perpetual moment of tender affection; beautiful and serene. The silence was wonderful, and it was utterly a whole different level of ecstasy.
We were ten, and you were starting to doze off.
I was awake and I watched you breathing with your eyes closed and parted lips. You held my Austen book closer to your chest where it can feel your thumping heartbeat. Your newly untied braids were all over your face. Wavy locks everywhere. I gently stroke them away from your cheeks that were of rosy hue due to the chilly night’s air. And because you were dreaming, your little eyelids fluttered. I noticed that. So I tucked you inside our self-made fort, and positioned us in front of your favorite night light— the moon. I sat and observed you, taking note of everything you did and did not do.
Do you recall how we were sitting by the lake that morning? It was the first time I draped my arm around your shoulders. The golden sun reflected on your tinted cheeks just perfectly, gradually seeing them come to a blush. I don’t know if it was a color of a burn from the summer heat, or just simply out of shyness from the flirtatious gesture and dialogues we had shared over time.
That was something I'll never forget. And because it's all I've ever known, I prepared myself for the anticipated goodbye. You caught me off guard, "I'll never depart from you," you said.
We were ten, and I was foolish enough to take those brief moments for granted.
Three years flew by right before our very eyes and the parting of ways came upon us. You begged me not to leave because If I do, you’d curse me for the rest of our lives. But what am I to do? It was university, it was my future… our future, if not dubiously relevant. I may have only been thirteen at the time, but I was certain of you.
But I didn’t listen. I never did.
I left.
And it was then that I realized, my future wasn’t there. It was sitting among the grassy lawn, reading poesies and verses to each other under the incandescent glow of the sunny daze. It was sharing silly whispers and passing secret notes of flatteries, tucking Catalpa flowers behind your ears, or making a beautiful crown out of it for the beautiful princess that’s been hopelessly sitting right under my nose this whole time.
I said, “I won’t ask you to wait if you don’t ask me to stay.” But you did ask me. And I was never ready, so I watched you go. Selfish as I was then, I knew you’d come back to me.
So there I was, sitting in my new room in the dormitory in a big city. I remember I couldn’t sleep the first night. All I did was toss and turn; sheets were shuffling on and on for hours. Like a typical little boy who was taken away from his family. Homesickness as they call it. But I guess mine was sickness for an undeclared love left hanging like our sheer fort on the hopeless branch of the Catalpa tree.
It was colder than I thought it would be. I kept recalling myself leaving. You gave me a yearning look, your gaze bore into my eyes, I swore I heard my heart break into little shards. But the deafening echoes couldn’t be compared to the shattering of yours, and all I ever gave you was goodbye.
I bet you were still up sitting on your chair by the window overlooking the majestic moon, wondering about me. So I tried the hardest to tuck myself in and face the window where your favorite night light was. I kept whispering empty wishes. I wished that I could run back to you.
Many days I thought of writing you letters. It took everything in me not to, as a string was tugging me back, telling me that the little notes I tucked in between the pages of the Austen book that I lent you could suffice for my five-year-long absence. The said string being the educational pressures that were gradually sucking the memories I had left of us.
I hope you know that every time that I didn’t, I almost did.
You embodied many, different ways of every emotion that crept through me. Though I knew it was going to hurt me, I went ahead and did it anyway.
Five years flew by so fast. Or maybe just for me. I finally graduated from university together with your brothers and mine. So much has happened while I was there that I almost didn’t notice the changes in me. There were several fooleries that the boys and I went through just to have a taste of the uncivilized life we weren't raised to have. There was this time I even helped your brother, Niki, with a gruesome fight against some kid who was foretold to be the next duke of our country. Those may be silly times to ponder now, but the damage it did to us and mostly to Niki was inexpressible.
I was eighteen, and the last memories I had of us were from we were ten. Maybe I tried to forget that day badly. That day where I stood and watched you hide behind the trees from afar, keeping those tears to yourself without me anywhere near you to wipe them all away like I always do.
I vowed to not hold myself back and not be held by the agonizing memories of a thousand yesterdays. I never realized how much it still pains you even upon my return.
Both our families held a welcoming back dinner at your place. There we were, after five long years of separation and silence, traipsing down the halls that we once ran through, forcing laughter and faking smiles just so we won’t ruin the genuine delights in our dear mothers’ eyes.
I was only eighteen, I didn’t know much but I knew I missed you. I’d tell you but I don’t know how. I do, however, know where it all went wrong. I just couldn't find the courage in me to approach and ask you for an apology.
Where was I? Where was the boy who’d throw a mantle over your braided locks, pretending to be the wizard to your witch?
Do you still remember? The notes I shamelessly tucked between the Austen book I lent you just to get my silly feelings across? Do you still have these little memories of us collected inside your imaginary heart-shaped locket?
I left many notes there, and though you possibly forgot most of them, they still hung around me, and I could vividly recall them like it was yesterday. From the flirtatious dialogues and striking remarks to the underlined phrases I wholly dedicated to you, the following parchments started to become like an entire page of paper with my inconsistent handwriting.
I vented out my daily adventures and mundane activities into those stained parchments that I stole from my late father’s study. Until suddenly, all the letters were about you. It collected all my immature yet genuine emotions. It was always about you, seldom me, and hardly ever us.
For the many years that I’ve hurt you, left you hanging, and witnessed our promises get constantly broken, I could only hope for better days waiting ahead for us. If not to me, at least to you. You deserve more than I could even offer. You always have, and I'm afraid I may not be a potential candidate to meet you halfway.
A year has passed and we’re now about to be offered for marriage. Not to each other though. There we were, standing in a crowded room under the bedazzling chandeliers and along with the tunes from the people eliciting them.
I felt my hands trembling in fear that eventful night. We exchanged brief and stolen glances and I was desperate to know, was the yearning killing you too?
I saw you nervously pulling your dress in an attempt to look busy, while I was doing my best to avoid you. I’ve never heard silence quite this loud.
Jay gave me the chance to redeem myself. You had no idea how much I desired to secure you in a long and firm embrace the moment you walked closer to me in that library. But you said those words. Yes! Those words were made up of aching memories that lingered around my soul for a while, but I dared not to give any of my attention to.
My deepest apologies for leaving you behind, again.
I dropped your hand while dancing and left you standing there in an awfully eerie room in such a woeful state. I let you slip beyond my reach, and I fear I can't give you any reasons in the aftermath. I was nowhere to be found then, and I hate the crowds, you know that. But I wanted to return to you after I'd composed myself in the powder room, though it utterly shattered me the moment I ran back to the hall.
I saw you dance with him. With the boy who was now a man. The man who was chosen by Niki’s old flame. The old flame that caused the gruesome fight between the two boys several years back. And the man who’s now trying to take you away from my reach; the unreachable string I couldn’t ever pull passionately close to me.
I heard my heart smash to smithereens. I was hopelessly wishing in the back of my mind that you wished it was me. You wished it was me you’re holding firmly in those little, flimsy fingers, lovingly waltzing you to your wildest dreams.
While I just stood there, under the dimly lit corner of the court, dreadfully gazing upon the sight that gave the entire ton heart-shaped eyes and promising prophecies.
My dearest, Y/n. For dearest you will always be. I want you to know that I’d wilfully live and die for moments that we stole on begged and borrowed time.
Because I held my pride like I should've held you.
END OF YANG JUNGWON's POV
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The hot topic immediately spread among the Yang and Park siblings the following morning, excluding Y/n’s awareness of such matters. The boys were determined enough to keep their knowledge unsuspected to the mischievous pair. Although Jay and Niki were aggravated by the news, they saw it best to confront their sister in a more fortunate time.
On the contrary, Jungwon is enraged enough to retreat from their manor to give the young miss an impulsive lecture. He sets off with his horse, speedily galloping to the heart of the Kielder Forest.
“Y/n! I know you're here! You and I need to talk!” Jungwon aimlessly calls out as he takes quick steps to where her fort was situated, “Y/n!”
“What?!” The lass crawls out of her sheer fortress, looking utterly pissed with the boy’s sudden commotion.
“Have you lost your wits?!”
“I have no idea what you're talking about, Jung.”
“You made a ruse with Sung- god, Y/n! What were you thinking?!” Jungwon runs his fingers through his ebony locks with definite frustration plastered all over his face, making Y/n flinch from his sudden whine.
“How did you-”
“How I discovered such a ridiculous act isn't of concern right now. Goodness, Y/n, I expected more from you!”
“Well, you should've expected less then!” She fiercely retorts.
“For god’s sake! You don't even know that man!”
“More like I know you? I couldn't even recognize you anymore!”
“That man has set his record with your brother-”
“Do not put Niki into this so as to protect your dying ego.”
“Then what’s all this? What's in it for him, huh? What did you offer Sunghoon that got your mind twisted?”
“A piece of my fucking mind because you were too dumb to even care! And don't you dare speak of him like you're mighty enough to reproach the man whose only desire was to help me!”
“Tell that to your brothers who feel shamefully betrayed right now by your reckless behavior!”
Jungwon heaves a sigh the moment Y/n goes quiet. The atmosphere suddenly went numbingly silent for a while. What with all the nonstop outbursts they both threw at each other, they forgot to stop and catch their breaths in the maddening heat of the moment.
Y/n breaks the deafening silence with light sniffles and soft sobs, tilting her head away from Jungwon’s sight. He witnesses her tears again for the first time in a very long while. It pains him to see her like this, but what shatters his soul, even more, is that he's the reason why her tears keep falling… and he couldn't take a step closer to wipe them away knowing they hadn’t resolved their previous fight.
So he stands there, mere inches away from her, hands so close yet so far, fists clenched tightly to stifle the urge to touch her, until Y/n feels a sudden rush of electricity through her entire body; Jungwon pulled her into a comforting embrace, making her snurfle into the warmth of his chest.
“Forgive me, I… I’m just very disappointed. For the longest time I’ve known you, not once did it ever occur to me that you would go this far to get my attention. I’m just worried for you.” With a hand holding onto her waist tightly, and the other, resting on her nape, Jungwon softly whispers against her ear while stroking her hair gently until her breathing calms down.
Y/n couldn't help but gradually crawl her arms around his slim waist, crumpling a handful of his jabot shirt from the back in desperation to suppress further sobs from embarrassing her. All of her raging thoughts suddenly came to a halt the moment their bodies connected with each other.
It was as if she's meant to be in this moment with him, to bathe in his comfort, to be in this dreamy embrace. It would be a lie for Jungwon to say he didn't want this. He was, after all, anticipating for such a moment to hug her like now. It's quite unfortunate that it had to be under such circumstances.
“Why does my involvement with Sunghoon bother you so much? Is it only because of Niki?” Y/n looks up to Jungwon, making the two merely inches apart from brushing their noses. Jungwon knew that he'd get lost in her compelling eyes, so he stared down at her parted, pinched lips-- though he wished he didn't at that moment, but he was too late. He finds himself running his tongue across his lips, all the while parting it as he tries to think of any far-fetched reasons to answer her question.
He lifts his thumb and grazes it over her flushed cheeks. Her tear-filled eyes still glisten as Jungwon leans closer, making Y/n shut them in an instant. Although she’s quite in a chagrin in their current position, Jungwon finds her unshakable figure as a sign that she's relaxed in his presence, making him feel less deterred from keeping her in his arms a little longer.
The chap plants soft kisses on her closed eyes that made Y/n inhale sharply. The fleeting, feather-like touches on her eyelids were more than enough for the lass to bathe herself in such momentary bliss. The moment she flutters her eyes open, her gaze meets his as he rests his forehead on hers.
“I hate seeing you cry. These beautiful eyes aren't meant for such miseries.” He whispers to which his breaths fan against her exhales.
“You always make me cry.” Jungwon softly chuckles at her slightly pouting lips, simultaneously thinking how lovely would it feel to have his lips locked on hers.
“Jay would genuinely torture me if he sees us right now.” Jungwon scrunches his nose as he playfully bumps it with hers.
“What would he do if he found us out? Let me go then.” She teases. Her hands find their way from his waist, to his nape, while playing with the little mullet he outgrew since the summer.
“I could never.”
Y/n sighs. His words had two meanings and fortunately, she's smart enough to know what he really meant. To answer her previous question, he wanted to tell her how much he loves her-- but his tongue is tied, and he can only let out gentle breaths and husky whispers. He couldn't find any words that would perfectly encompass his brimming emotions to her.
So he fails himself again with a shrug of his thoughts.
“Do you ever think we should just stop doing this?” He asks.
“What do you mean?”
“All these silly banters and stolen, longing stares. Could you be happy here with me?”
“The past few weeks have been nothing but emotional for me, Jung. You shut me out, then you take me back. You anger me lots yet in one swift move, you knock the wind out of my lungs. I’d be lying if I told you I’m not on top of the world sharing this moment with you right now. Because I am. I am happy. I don't think I would be if not with you.”
Then let’s run away right now. Let’s leave everything behind and run away together. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. That was what he wanted to say. But he gulps down all other thoughts and lets out the opposite.
“Come on. I’ll walk you home.” He says.
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The trip home was merely nothing but laughter and barbs as Jungwon shares embarrassing stories of her brothers while they were in university; trying their very best to ignore the desperate elephant in the room.
With hands constantly brushing against each other as they take their every step, Jungwon was downright close to seizing her hand completely and interlocking it with his.
“To be fair, this has been the only thing that's made the past agonizing weeks bearable.” He concludes the uplifting momentum as they walk closer to her humble abode.
“I'm ready to try again if you are?” Y/n mutters under her breath, but Jungwon clearly caught every single word. He slowly pulls away from the almost closed gap between them, looking at the ground like he always does when he's conflicted.
“What is it, Jung? Have I said something wrong?”
Jungwon shrugs his head in disapproval, though he wishes she hadn't said those words.
“I… I’m sorry. It's just…”
Jungwon thought there should've been a time and place, but this wasn't it. He doesn't want to take advantage of her vulnerability right now especially when Jay's trusted him enough to not fuck things up. With Sunghoon in the way and Niki's emotions in turmoil, he couldn't bear inserting himself in the middle of chaos, insinuating confusions any further when he could've been a better friend to Y/n rather than putting her feelings in silence.
Y/n was expecting this. Every time she and Jungwon would share a rather momentous moment, he’d chicken out and ghost her for however long he desired until he felt the need to pop back into her life again and tug at her heartstrings.
She stares at Jungwon's figure almost disappearing into the wild night. He ran away with deafening thoughts, while she stood there with a crushed heart… again.
With sadness, she realizes they need some time apart.
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It's been a long, dragging week for the ton. Tranquil for some, as not many revelations from the Daily Tattle have been uncovered as of late.
The Park siblings have yet to talk about the matter of Y/n being a quisling to Sunghoon's endeavors. As of the moment, the young marquess continues on with his dilly-dallying courtship with the young miss, obliviously promenading her with genuine intentions this time around.
Jungwon and Y/n had only been apart for a week and already, he had a new lover hanging off his arm.
Unbeknownst to Y/n, Jungwon was having troubles with his thoughts and feelings as he saw her, yet again, traipsing around the park with an arm comfortably hanging onto Sunghoon.
With Y/n, he'd had some wonderfully stable times. But seeing how her smiles go from cheek to cheek and echoing laughter with the marquess’ presence makes her genuinely happy, Jungwon thought it’d be best if he stops himself from holding her back and enjoy her liberty without the past binding her like a prisoner of what could’ve been.
Sunghoon looks at her the same way he does. It churns his insides just thinking about it.
Yet he fears this might have to be his time to back away.
That week-long separation seemed to last forever for Jungwon as he finally concludes that he is no longer deserving of her hand anymore. Now that it's apparent that it’s about to be promised to another.
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ㅡ © ENHA-WOODZIES, 2021
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