#if any of the fathers locally have even said 3 words to their child in a lifetime i’ll eat my fuckjng hat

[ovaruling]

an elementary school near me had on their sign “don’t forget!! it’s DAD-BRING-YOUR-CHILD-TO-SCHOOL DAY!!” last week and i’m still thinking about what a sad ass plea it was. bar is on the fucking floor

#if any of the fathers locally have even said 3 words to their child in a lifetime i’ll eat my fuckjng hat #never seen a dad near this school ever. i drive thru the school traffic every day

[forourtomorrows]

okay so i heard a lot of people talk about edgeworth's line on marriage in aa-6's dlc but what about phoenix ??? here is the lines mentioned by the way

Phoenix: W-Wait. You're not thinking about finally settling down and getting married, are you?

Edgeworth: Why do you always have to jump to such extreme conclusions? For your information, I have no intention of doing such a thing... What about you, Wright?

Phoenix: No plans here for now, even if I wanted to... (Well, at least I found out how Edgeworth feels about marriage. Not that it has anything to do with the case...)

"even if i wanted to" ??? like i know those are 5 words but if they wanted phoenix to say "haha i'm single so not gonna happen" they could've just made him say "no plans here for now, and not for a long time" or just end it at "no plans here for now" because it's like saying " i don't plan on getting married and even if i wanted to it's not like i can" (that's how i read it anyway)

and because i am completely not normal about this line since the day i read it and i mulled over it for way too much time (i have no life) i'm going to give some answers to why can't phoenix get married even if he wanted to ? why can't he ???

because he's single: the most simple answer and i guess the one the game wanted us to think about. basically he's saying "i have no plans for now, and even if i wanted to because well... you can't get married if you're alone" (i think people marrying themselves is a thing though). but again, if that was the intended meaning, they could've stopped at "no plans here for now" and call it a day, it's short and effective and people (like me) wouldn't be breaking their brains thinking about it.

because he's a father: OKAY before you come at me listen. trucy is amazing and everything (i love her. really) BUT that wouldn't stop phoenix from worrying if 1) his partner would accept getting married with someone with a child 2) if trucy would accept said partner and 3) if the two of them would get along. defo not the meaning intended but it's one of the first thing i thought about (because it made some kind of sense to me)

because the one he loves isn't interested in him/available: he has "no plan" on getting married because his love is one-sided. even if he wanted to get married it's not like he can if he's the only one in love, thus the "even if i wanted to". the "even if i wanted to" is meant here as a possibility "if in a near future i want to get married well i can't" which would make sense if he has a some non-requited feelings. seems rough buddy.

because he's gay/bi: the game is japanese and it was originally set in japan (even though the translation changed the localization of the game, i'm not teaching you anything) , and in japan, same-sex marriage is not legally recognized. so he doesn't plan on getting married, and even if he wanted to he can't because it's simply not legal. i don't really think it was meant that way but if they wrote it that vague it's not my problem if i pick the meaning i want :)

he's in a relationship with someone who doesn't want to get married: well, if his partner doesn't want to get married, it would make sense that he has no plans for it, even if he would've liked too, even if he would've wanted to, because well, you gotta respect your partner's wishes (there is literally no problem with not wanting to get married btw). so he's basically saying "i'm not getting married even if i wanted to because i'm with someone who doesn't want to get married". and that's okay !

anyway this is all i could think about concerning these 5 words(he is in a more financially and life stable position than in the 7 years gap so money wouldn't be the problem here), so if you have suggestions please put them in ! and if you have any questions please ask ! this sentence was so vague and could imply so many things and its contrary it's making me crazy. anyway i should stop rambling now haha.

#ace attorney #phoenix wright #aa #i am in an essay mood these days like WOW #it's because i can't have much access to my ipad so i can't draw #and instead i am left here mulling over words #very glad i made this account though or else my poor friend would be the one hearing all of this

[backjustforberena]

It might be faulty assumptions but I always presumed that Laenor was Rhaenys favorite child. Not something she could say because how would that look the overlooked for a male heir woman favoring a son over a daughter?

You said Laenor is everything you could want in a son, but not for Corlys. Laena is everything Corlys wanted in a son, but didn't get. Laena is brash and brave and devoted, wild in the best of ways and fully aware of all their family is.

Laenor is sweet and kind, yes he's brave but in a different sort of way. He's not picking fights that he can't win, he's not trying to gain more, advance more, he's trying to hold to his place in life where it stands, even if sometimes he doesn't know where that is.

Rhaenys demurs a little at Laena's proposed marriage to Viserys, but outright worries over Laenor and seems to want to reject the engagement out of fear for her son.

Also it seems like she spent more one on one time with him, at least young, someone had to teach him how to be a dragon, how to fly.

Firstly, I just want to say that I don't think, on this subject at least, that there is such a thing as faulty assumptions. I don't really care to hear if you think Rhaenys and Corlys hated their children or didn't feel anything for them because I think that's untrue. But when looking at nuances within the relationships and especially considering such a thing as favourites... so long as you have good reasoning, then I may disagree with you but I'm not going to say you're wrong wholeheartedly or that you're being anything approaching stupid or foolish or one of those words. I'm not going to insult you or seek to offend, basically.

I hadn't really considered the optics of Rhaenys's position as a past claimant having any real impact on who her favourite child might be or what she'd say if she was asked. I think the danger on that has passed. I don't think it would be particularly read into. It's also worth saying that, whereas Laenor is the younger sibling in the book, Laena is the youngest in the show. So it wouldn't be anything alarming to anyone if she showed favouritism to her eldest child who just so happens to be son. It's not indicative of any opinion that daughters are inferior, especially without an inheritance actually involved.

An interview that I suggest watching, and one I rewatched for this ask, is THIS. At about 3 minutes in, Eve and Steve are asked about their preferences towards their children, though only, really, within the context of fulfilling the ambition of getting close to the Throne. That, for me, is pretty much gospel because that's how the actors themselves have played it and I think it comes across, even when, as they say in the interview, it's not really in the script.

I'd love to hear your thoughts on it. It's very sneaky stuff, with Eve coming to Steve's rescue a little bit. Certainly, I think we can say that, even just taking away the subject of "favourites", what they say on Laena being like Corlys and perhaps Laenor being like Rhaenys is true, just in terms of emotional connections. And Corlys's role as a patriarch is always going to be harsh on Laenor. It just is, whether there is love there or not or whatever the personalities are. He is the heir, he has expectations hat would have been true if he'd married a local gentrywoman or... in this case, the Crown Princess.

The only way that Laenor fails, as a son, is that he doesn't produce heirs. Everything else is pretty much spot on. He's a great warrior and someone who learns at the feet of his father. He's an experienced and dedicated swordsman. He's a dragon rider, which is epic. He's described multiple times as honourable, with a good heart. He's dutiful - aware of and willing to do his duty. I think Corlys would rather that than someone looking to pick fights.

I don't even think that Laenor being gay bothers Corlys so much. He'd rather it wasn't the truth, make no mistake, and he's harsh surrounding it and prefers to pretend it doesn't exist. But it doesn't seem to disgust him, Laenor never seems ashamed on Driftmark, he's still got Joffrey around etc. If Corlys wanted to put his foot down, I think he would. He does when that sexuality threatens the image of their house but we never see him pull Laenor to task on it. He just ignores it. Plus - the guy was a sailor. He's been to every corner of the world. I doubt homosexuality is the most shocking thing this guy has seen.

I suppose I never really thought of Corlys and Rhaenys instilling the same sense of ambition and drive in their children, or whether they look out for it. When you say Laenor is "not trying to gain more, advance more, he's trying to hold his place in life where it stands" - I don't know if we ever see specific disapproval from Corlys or Rhaenys surrounding that. They certainly don't display it but I think part of that reason is because they don't hold the slight to their mother in the way that Corlys and Rhaenys do. They didn't raise Laena to seek an advantageous match or to be disappointed that she wasn't Queen or even to want to be Queen. They didn't raise Laenor to want his blood on the Throne or to do everything he could to ensure that. Those ambitions seem very, very personal to Corlys and Rhaenys as a couple... if that makes sense?

As to your point about Laena's proposed match to Viserys against her reaction to Laenor... for that I would say yes but... the advantage we have with Laenor's match is that we have a private scene with Corlys. That is the only time she speaks without a mask up and she speaks freely and truthfully about her feelings. We don't have a private scene of Corlys and Rhaenys where they discuss a match between Laena and Viserys. So there's every reason to think that she could have expressed a similar level of worry.

As for one-on-one time, actually, I think Rhaenys probably spent more time with Laena overall. If you add it all together. They'd be bound together because of their gender and the activities that come with that. But also, more specifically, because Laenor was away at war for three years. He was in the Stepstone. So, whilst there's going to be some one-on-one time with dragons, that's still a big chunk of time where she didn't see her son but would still be raising Laena. She would have participated more in Laena's childhood than Laenor's. Though, it could be, again due to roles and whatnot, that Laenor also ended up spending more time with his mother than with his father overall. Who knows.

#house of the dragon #rhaenys targaryen #corlys velaryon #eve best #steve toussaint #bad meta #<- ironic tag

[sissytobitch10seconds]

The Prince and the Knight

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy Summary: The story of the knight and his quest for his prince. Warnings: Viktor's deadname and she/her pronouns are used for the beginning part of the story until he comes out Word Count: 1,760 Ship(s): Five Hargreeves/Viktor Hargreeves

Archive link!

A/N: This is completely unedited and I have not read through it before I posted so if there are any typos of inconsistencies that's why. This is a type of writing that I have only ever tried once before so an assignment and I wasn't able to do it very well back then so I don't know if this is any better than that, haha. I hope that you all enjoy! Stay sissy and bitchy everyone <3

Once upon a time, there lived a very wealthy and powerful king. This kind had a wife, one who was very beautiful and very talented. She bore him two children, whom they cherished very dearly. 

The children were the gems of King Reginald’s kingdom, loved and adored by their people as they were raised to take over their father’s throne when he passed or relinquished the power to the sharper minds of whichever of his children he chose. 

The younger, meeker of the twins, Princess Vanya, was just as reclusive as her mother had been. It was said that she had also inherited her mother’s talents of music. The older twin was known to make appearances at the local taverns around the castle city, talking with the citizens of the country and fueling the economy by clearing out most of their cellars with his profuse drinking.

One day, Princess Vanya disappeared from the kingdom entirely.

No one was quite sure where she went, just that she was no longer there. She had always been reclusive, confiding only in her brother and Prince Klaus’ childhood best friend. She was unable to form that kind of bond with any of the children that she had been tutored with despite the ladies of the court forcing their children into her circles whenever possible. The closest that she got was Marcus, but when questioned he had no idea where she had gone either.

Queen Abigail became so upset about the disappearance of her beloved child, the one that she had helped nurture and develop while her husband focused primarily on Prince Klaus, that she passed away.

The entire kingdom was devastated, launched into a deep seated mourning both for the disappearance of their princess and the death of their queen.

In an effort to bring what remained of his family together, King Reginald called all willing and capable knights to report for duty. Once they had arrived, he informed them all of their quest: They were to set out across the lands- both friendly and hostile- in search of the missing princess. As soon as she was found, she was to be returned home to the waiting arms of her father. The knights were promised the chance to win the princess’ hand if she were so inclined to accept a proposal from them.

Many months of fruitless searching followed after the declaration from the king. The knights spread out across the lands and each of them returned home with their heads held low and their horse carrying one instead of the two they had been hoping for. Some of the knights did not return at all, instead making their own journey to the Undying Lands where the Queen now rested.

The King was growing restless, desperate to find his daughter and make sure that his children were still safe under his careful eye. He was running out of options, having exhausted all of the knights that had the ability to answer his summons and even reaching out to some of the other royals scattered across the lands in other kingdoms.

However, one knight had yet to answer the call. Sir Five, one of the most handsome, fearsome, and valiant warriors that the land had ever seen, was off on another quest for Madame Handler, a rival monarch to the king of the land that he hailed from, when King Reginald had issued his proclamation. As soon as Sir Five returned and his most loyal servants informed him of the chance to take on yet another heroic quest, he set out on his journey to the court of King Reginald.

Sir Five was given the same instructions as the other had been, though the king was fully expecting to lose his greatest knight on the fruitless quest to get his daughter back.

Unlike the other knights, Sir Five was intelligent about how he set off on the quest. The first thing that he did was pay a visit to the princess’ brother, Prince Klaus. He approached the young prince and asked, “Where has your sister gone?”

“I know not of any sister of mine,” the prince replied dismissively.

“I wish not to return her to your father, but to have the honor of saying that I have located her,” Sir Five replied, and he was speaking the truth. He had no interest in returning the princess to the control of the king, he only wished to do what others had not been able to do before him. 

“I still know nothing of a sister of mine,” the prince replied sourly. “I only have a brother.”

Sir Five had been given information that none other had before as the prince was able to see into the knight’s soul, to tell that he was honest in his reasoning for wanting to find the missing royal.

He set out on his journey with the information that the prince had given him, stopping to question several more people that the missing twin had been close with before his disappearance. Sir Five was able to collect enough knowledge from these people alone to know where the younger of the two princes had gone.

He braved the perilous lands, fighting the ogres that challenged him to battle and freeing several spirits and fae that had been captured by the other knights who had gotten this far. They repaid him by helping him along in his quest just as the people of the kingdom had done before, guiding him closer and closer to the missing prince.

It had only taken Sir Five a fortnight by the time that he stumbled across the little cottage that he had been directed to by being after being. It was idyllic, something that the peasants of every country dreamed of having to retire in after their wearing lives. 

The cottage itself was only big enough to hold one or two people comfortably, very obviously not built with children or relatives in mind. There was a quaint vegetable garden pushed up against the northernmost side so that the plants would be able to soak up as much of the radiant sunlight as they could during the daytime hours. There was also a small gathering of fruit trees, so tall that the sheep underneath them couldn’t nibble at the already budding fruits. 

Sir Five approached the home, hoping that he would be sent on the last leg of his journey by whoever resided there, just as he caught sight of the man tending to the garden. The man sprang to his feet, his eyes wide and his stance defensive. “How did you find me?”

“I followed the way that the people of the kingdom gave me. Have you not received the other knights that have been sent this way?” Sir Five asked carefully.

“I have not,” the man replied indignantly. “No one else has been able to make it this far. They have been stopped. I wasn’t meant to be found.”

“Are you the missing prince?” Five asked. Not only was he one of the most sought after knights because of his fighting ability and his regal beauty (something that attracted many noblemen and women alike), but he was also fiercely intelligent. 

“I might be. What is it to you?” the man asked.

“I simply wanted to say that I found you. Do not worry, I have no intention of returning you to your father,” Sir Five reassured quickly.

The prince, who had yet to give his newly chosen name, relaxed upon hearing the reassurance from the knight. “I am glad for that. I do not wish to ever go home. I am happy here.”

“How did you come across such a place? Surely you would have had to bring someone else with you to assist you in building your home,” Sir Five said. He knew, logically, that it had to have existed long before the prince’s disappearance because of the worn nature of the fence (a telling sign that it had been through many a winter) and the size of the fruit trees.

The prince gathered up the crops he had been harvesting from his garden and then walked closer to the knight. “I happened upon it during my travels, trying to find somewhere that I could be myself without the legacy of my mother or the watchful eyes of my father. The couple staying here had outgrown it and gifted it to me. They wished to be closer to the wife’s family as they had a son.”

“You like it here?” Sir Five asked as he took another look around the quaint meadow that the prince had made his home in.

“I do, very much.”

“Do you get lonely?”

They both seemed surprised that the knight had asked that, but neither shied away from the conversation that they had been having. The prince thought about it for a long moment before he answered, very quietly, “Yes.”

“Do you ever want to go back?”

“No.”

“Why?”

It was very unlike Sir Five to ask such questions, and yet he continued anyway. The prince didn’t seem very perturbed by it. Instead, he seemed happy to have company for the first time since whoever had owned the cabin before him had left. “I like it here,” he answered. “I can be myself, as I said earlier. I miss my brother, but he prefers to be around our people and receiving attention from the members of our court.”

Sir Five had heard rumors of Prince Klaus’ daliances with the noblemen of King Reginald’s kingdom, but for the most part he had tried to ignore them.

They both stood there, the soft breeze brushing across their skin and rippling the long green grass the coated the rest of the meadow the same way that fur would a sleeping dog, for a long moment. “Would you like to see what it’s like? To live a life where you can be who you wish whenever you wish?”

The knight thought about it for a long moment. Of course, he loved being a knight and getting to go on quests to help people and to prove that he was capable of such feats, but it did tire him so. “I suppose that I would, my prince.”

“I am not a prince as much as I am no longer Vanya. You may call me Viktor,” the man replied, a small smile gracing his features. “Now go into the house and change out of the stuffy armor. I am going to teach you how to garden.”

#fanfiction #writing #fanfic #archive of our own #ao3 #the umbrella academy #tua #tua fanfiction #the umbrella academy fanfiction #fiktor #five hargreeves #viktor hargreeves #five/viktor #viktor/five #five x viktor #viktor x five #fairy tale #trans character #trans viktor

[eucalyprhodes]

Eulogy

Yesterday, I went to a memorial service of a close friend’s late father who passed away this week. Normally, a memorial service doesn’t really evoke any emotions in me, but there was something so profoundly different about this one. This memorial service made me feel that I missed out on knowing my friend’s father because of how wonderful of a person he was! He was described as quietly funny, dedicated, and as someone who goes above and beyond when helping others. He touched so many lives, his impact is so visibly seen in the families that he left behind, and he had a life full of love. 

In his eulogy, I learned that he was in the airline industry and when he moved to the US, he had a cleaning business before finally reunited with his love of airplanes by working for a major airline company at 67 years old! The eulogy said he HAPPILY drove in the traffic every day to LAX until his retirement from the company. If that doesn’t scream commitment to you, I don’t know what else will! 

Every person’s testimony about him left me laughing out loud because even though he is known to be a man of so very little words, his kindness overcomes his quietness. Hearing everyone’s story makes me wished i got to know my friend much much earlier in my life because then, I would’ve been able to know her father too. 

But then there’s another thing that got me thinking. Reading that eulogy and hearing everyone’s testimony made me think of my own eulogy, and the testimony that my loved ones will say. Will my eulogy focused on my career, or what I do for others, or my interests and hobbies? Most importantly, will my legacy be one of kindness, commitment to loyalty to God and to others? 

Here’s how I picture my eulogy will be:

Kezia was born in Jakarta, April 15 1991 to Jimmy Baten and Erlinda Sianturi Baten. She grew up in Jatiwaringin where she started her education in SD Tunas Kasih before transferring to SDK 4 Penabur and SMPK 5 Penabur. In 20015, at the age of 14, Kezia along with her parents and older brother immigrated to the United States where the family lived in La Mirada before settling their roots in Buena Park, California. 

Kezia obtained a bachelors degree in child development and family studies from CSU Long Beach. She initially wanted to pursue social work for social services agency before changing her dream to become an academic advisor for her alma mater. After a grueling 6 years, she finally obtained her dream and became an academic counselor at CSU Fullerton only to learn that she completely hated this job and there was no such thing as a dream job. After only 3 months at CSUF, she quits her job and returned to HR as talent acquisition specialist for a learning and development company. In 2023, she was unfortunately laid off but quickly accepted an offer in HR where she continued consistently for the next 25 years. She started working as HR Specialist at (insert super great company here), and worked her way up to HR Generalist, HR Manager, and finally Director of People & Culture until the day she retires. 

Kezia married Julian in the midst of Covid pandemic on October 4, 2020. Surrounded by their closest friends and families out in nature, they exchanged vows and settled in Fullerton, CA. In 2023, they celebrated their wedding by having a wedding reception in Jakarta, Indonesia. The following year in 2024, they welcomed their first children: twins (JJ and EZ). The family moved to North Richland Hills, TX in spring 2025 and have been living there ever since. 

Kezia loves Jesus and has served in various churches throughout her life. She served as a seating host and admin assistant at The Father’s House of Orange County from 2022 until 2032. She served at her local church (insert church name) and eventually launched a ministry where she served (insert population). Serving God has been a priority for Kezia as well as Julian and they made it a priority to always serve the Kingdom. 

In her spare time, Kezia loves being in the outdoors. She and Julian have gone to every single national parks in the United States, often bringing the twins together with them which inspires the twins’ own love and appreciation for nature. Every long weekend was an opportunity for them to take the twins camping, sleep under the stars, learning about all the plants and animals, and appreciate what God has created for them. After their retirement, Kezia and Julian spent most of their time traveling both for the ministry as well as their own enjoyment. Kezia also loves coffee and hosting dinner parties at her home. Her love language is food and she loves creating a safe space for her loved ones to feel safe and welcomed at her home. 

And that is all I can think about. Will my life really turn out like that? Obviously I don’t know. I do hope the twins thing really happened though :) But if yesterday taught me anything, it’s that our legacy matters. What do I want to be remembered of? Will my various HR titles matter? will my love for the outdoors matter? Maybe not so much. I truly hope i will be remembered as someone who loves the Lord, the Kingdom and has done everything I can to contribute to God’s Kingdom. 

Have you ever thought of your eulogy?

[deldeldel90]

3/3

 "Mama!" Lance called out, clutching to her side. "Wake up! Wake up- it's-" 

 Isolde kissed the top of his head, which made him smile. 

 "I know," she said, getting up from bed, "you've been such a good boy this year, I'm sure there'll be lots and lots of presents for my best boy." 

 Indeed, Lance had been such an amazing boy - he didn’t even complain much during the time they were still moving into their cabin, buying groceries and getting to know the locals. Isolde missed the simple life, and her home reminded her of when she was a commoner - Lance seemed to like it too. 

 Lance raced down the stairs, nearly tripping on his own feet, as he was always rather clumsy, which she hoped was a trait he’d always keep (and a trait that definitely would've been ‘fixed’, had he gone to that academy). Isolde watched him affectionately, as she walked down at a slower rate. 

 He marveled at the small tree they had, and the sloppily-wrapped presents which were all for him. 

 He got on his knees, and shaked the first one, excitement clear in his eyes. 

 “Careful, baby,” she warned, “be nice with them.” 

 Lance smiled sheepishly, “sorry, Mama.” 

 He put down the present and opened it, tugging at the bow gently. 

 ‘For you, Lance,’ she thought, ‘this was all for you.’ 

 Present, after present, Lance opened them all, his expression a look of pure, unfiltered happiness. He got many toys, a book or two, and a hand-knitted sweater from the kind lady who worked at the local daycare. 

 Isolde got two gifts. One from Lance (a beautiful stick-figure drawing of her and him, along with three, large flowers) and another from her coworker, Brunswick (a magical, bright magenta rose encased in glass).

 Soon enough, they were done, and Isolde got up to make breakfast - waffles and strawberries, Lance’s favorite - but a small, chubby hand stopped her by pulling on her leg. 

"Am I your favorite child?"

 Isolde sat next to him, watching the way the lights danced in his eyes, bringing out the blue in his grey eyes. 

 "Huh?" 

 "B'cause you haven't done anything like this for Blaine or Freddie," he murmured, snuggling closer to her, "not that I mind, Mama. I like life better here." 

 Isolde thought about it. It wasn't like she ... cared any less about the two other boys, it was just they both reminded her in some way of their father, and Lance was always like a little bit of sunshine for her…

 "You're my baby boy," she admitted, "you have a wonderful smile. You're so sweet, and so heroic. That's what makes you ... so special. You are my son, Lance, and … my only one.” 

 "I'm not a baby," Lance looked down, but she could see his small grin. 

 "You'll always be to me," Isolde said, “now, I have to go make food. Try and start the book I got you.”

 Lance pouted. 

 “Trust me, you’ll like it.” 

 (She would be proven right, and Lance would reread that book a thousand times, kicking his feet in delirium, propped against his bed, his eyes wide. He would swear that there was no better literature out there.)  

 Like always, Lance gobbled down breakfast, eating as though he were in a massive rush. She didn’t mind, preferring to watch him eat - as she just liked to look at her son. 

 “Hey, Lance,” she whispered. 

 “Yes, Mama?” 

 “I’ve got one last surprise for you..” 

 A greyhound greeted the boy, tail wagging furiously from side to side. The dog barked, before tackling Lance in the gentlest way possible. As Lance giggled, the dog started sniffing him. 

 Isolde crossed her arms, leaning against the door. “All for you,” she said softly. “This was all for you, Lance, my soul, my everything.” 

 Of course, the young child did not hear her words, preoccupied with his new friend. 

 “I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU!” he shrieked loudly, hugging the dog tightly. “Thank you, Mama….!” 

 It did not matter if she burned for this, it did not matter if she was selfish or cruel for doing this. 

 It was all for Lance, and as the seasons grow warmer, they will grow together - two yarrows basking in sunlight.

 “His name is Hanky,” her son said with a cheeky smile. “He looks like the one I used to have.”  

 Isolde smiled, and tears welled up in her eyes, but she did not shed them. 

 “Good boy,” she leaned down to his level, as Hanky (who would later go by Hanks) laid down next to her, head lolling on her lap. 

 “Me or the dog?” 

 “Both of you,” she remarked, making Lance laugh.

 Isode Durand made a promise to herself - that she would never let Lance feel unloved. He would grow up, knowing he could say no to her, knowing she wouldn’t love him any less if he did, and he would know that he was worth as much as the twinkling stars above him, the blanket of darkness that covered the sky, each and every flower that roamed the grass - he was worth everything she ever held dear, for he was her world.

 “Mama! Look!” his voice broke through her thoughts, he was clutching Hanky, who looked rather pleased at the attention, “this is just like the book! Mama-” 

 ‘From the moment I held you in my arms, I knew you were my precious baby - but I couldn’t have known that I would spare my soul for you, that I would break every promise for your happiness, that you would make me want to do the things I never thought I could.’ 

 “I’m listening,” she instead said, watching the way he beamed, “tell me more, Lance.” 

 ‘You are beautifully made, crafted like fine glass, yet as unpredictable as abstract art. You are a mystery, an enigma, but despite that, you bring life to my own. I may never understand how you do such things to me, but I am forever grateful.’ 

 Her son smiled, and universes were both shattered assembled at that very moment. 

 Isolde would never know what would’ve happened if she stayed, but she didn’t exactly know if she cared, for as long as Lance would ramble on about his latest interests and hobbies, she was happier than she would ever be back in the Plaid kingdom, and she hoped he was, too. 

#cursed princess club #cross posted on ao3 #cpc queen isolde #cpc lance

[melodyalanaroster]

November Update As Of 11/18/2022

I am extremely happy to see that Lysander, Kentin and Armin are getting wedding episodes and that we are all getting honeymoon episodes! I can’t wait to see what Nathaniel’s honeymoon is like! We know they go to New Zealand... But I hope its quite the adventure!

As for My Candy Love: New Gen... I am still not sure if I will even play it... I might so that I can have access to the avatar customizer, but I’m not sure. I’ve thought of continuing Alana’s story with her daughter, Aurora, being my new Candy, but I’m nowhere near done with writing Alana’s story, so I really don’t know what to think and how to feel on this.

I have not played any of Armin’s route or the last episode of Kentin’s route yet. I was planning on finishing Kentin’s route by Christmas, but then we got hit with back to back events then Armin’s route. And now, we’re getting hit with more events and the honeymoon episodes... So, while I intend on playing Armin’s AL route, and ultimately writing a “What If” chapter about him and Alana, I have no idea when I will be doing that...

I am still writing The Melancholy of Melody Alana Roster! As of right now, my main focus is on the Episode 23 chapter for my rewrite of High School Life. That episode was hard to play for everyone, but it was a special hell for me... As, like Nathaniel, I am also a child abuse survivor. Writing this chapter is taking forever for me to do since it is constantly bringing up memories of what my mother did to me and what she let her best friend and her father do to me... That being said, this chapter is insanely important to Alana’s story and I will push forward with writing it. Just please bear with me.

Also, due to the fact that I am working around 39 hours a week at a job that, especially during the holidays, is extremely tiring, I am no longer writing on “my weekdays” (Sunday through Thursday). Especially with the facts that my boyfriend and I have a lot to do during the holidays and, even though it’s not until April 4th, 2026, we do have a wedding to plan.

In the meantime, I can say for certain that I have begun work on a nice little Holiday Surprise for you all! The Otome Haven Discord Server’s Holiday Fan Event has already been decided and I am looking forward to sharing the gift I’ve made for the fandom with you all next month! It’s going to be super!

As of the writing of this post, I am going to openly tell you all that this weekend (the 18th and 19th), I probably won’t be writing at all. In an effort to heal myself, particularly my inner child, I’ve been hyper fixating on Pokémon... Which has been working. I pre-ordered my copy of Pokémon Violet and, last night, my boyfriend and I went to my local GameStop and picked it up from the Midnight Release Party. He won the Super Smash Bros. Tournament! In other words, even though I worked a super early shift yesterday, I shot back 3 coffees over the course of the day so I could stay awake... Which resulted in me being awake from 5 am to a little after midnight... I tried to sleep in today, but my alarm, my cat, and my boyfriend’s chihuahua had other plans... So, my focus, this weekend, will be on my new Paldean adventure with my sweet little Sprigatito.

#my candy love #my candy love love life #my candy love university life #my candy love alternate life #the melancholy of melody alana roster #alana's canon #mcl #mclul #mclll #mclal #amour sucre #sweet amoris #amor doce #Sweet kiss #sweet love #Sweet flirt #sweet crush #Corazon de Melon #corazon de bombon #cdm #cdmu #slodki flirt #beemoov #beemoov games #dolce flirt #personal thoughts

[drwilfredwaterson]

Sorting Through Love and Hate, Truth and Lies, Being Cherished and Blessed or A 5 Generation Curse: Freewill Choices Have Nanosecond Returns on Investment. What Will You Sow? What Will You and Your Children Harvest for 5 Generations or A Thousand? Part 14/20.

"There are so many different ways that someone can be beautiful. For me, I think that when I meet someone and there's that magical thing about them that makes them unforgettable, it's that they're sincere and honest and whoever they are, be that funny, happy, sad, you know, going through a rough time, sarcastic, I think that these personality traits that come through when somebody is really sincere is what makes them beautiful." - Taylor Swift

Living Water Fountain, Burned Mountain, Mr. Anderson, and a Non-combustible Data Oasis,

Earthquake: 15:17:15 GMT+3 Jerusalem, Israel, 05:17:15 PDT Local Time (Approximately 21 minutes, 15 seconds (1275 seconds) after posting the 10/10 Lion posts)…

Strong's Concordance #1275 Beri: "my well/fountain," a descendant of Asher Original Word: בֵּרִי

The Building Blocks of the Temples/Vessels/Cisterns of Human Hearts, Minds, Bodies, Souls, and Spirits…

The basic elements that compose DNA are five atoms: carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, phosphorous, and hydrogen. (CDC.gov) Hydrogen is the chemical element with the symbol H and atomic number 1. Alef א Carbon is a chemical element with the symbol C and atomic number 6. Vav ו Nitrogen is the chemical element with the symbol N and atomic number 7. Zayin ז Oxygen is the chemical element with the symbol O and atomic number 8. Chet/Het ח Phosphorus is a chemical element with the symbol P and atomic number 15. Samekh ס

DNA: Alef א, Vav ו, Zayin ז, Chet/Het ח, Samekh ס

Oasis: אוזחס A fertile spot in a desert, where water is found. By weight, the average adult human is approximately 70% water, and the average child is approximately 60% water. (Wikipedia)

TANAKH (Jewish Publication Society, Hebrew-English): Pages 1005 and 1006: Jeremiah 2:1 The word of the Lord came to me, saying, Jeremiah 2:2 Go proclaim to Jerusalem: Thus said the Lord; I accounted to your favor The devotion of your youth, Your love as a bride--How you followed Me in the wilderness, In a land not sown. Jeremiah 2:3 Israel was holy to the Lord, The first fruits of His harvest. All who ate of it were held guilty; Disaster befell them--declares the Lord. Jeremiah 2:4 Hear the word of the Lord, O House of Jacob, Every clan of the House of Israel! Jeremiah 2:5 Thus said the Lord: What wrong did your fathers find in Me That they abandoned Me And went after delusion and were deluded? Jeremiah 2:6 They never asked themselves, "Where is the Lord, Who brought us up from the land of Egypt, Who led us through the wilderness, A land of deserts and pits, A land of drought and darkness, A land no man had traversed, Where no human being had dwelt?" Jeremiah 2:7 I brought you to this country of farm land To enjoy its fruit and its bounty; But you came and defiled My land, You made My possession abhorrent. Jeremiah 2:8 The priests never asked themselves, "Where is the Lord?" The guardians of the Teaching ignored Me; The rulers rebelled against Me, And the prophets prophesied by Baal And followed what can do no good. Jeremiah 2:9 Oh, I will go on accusing you--declares the Lord--And I will accuse your children's children! Jeremiah 2:10 Just cross over to the isles of the Kittim and look, Send to Kedar and observe carefully; See if aught like this has ever happened: Jeremiah 2:11 Has any nation changed its gods Even though they are no-gods? But My people has exchanged its glory For what can do no good. Jeremiah 2:12 Be appalled, O heavens, at this; Be horrified, utterly dazed!--says the Lord. Jeremiah 2:13 For My people have done a twofold wrong: They have forsaken Me, the Fount of living waters, And hewed them out cisterns, broken cisterns, Which cannot even hold water.

John 4:6 Jacob’s well was there, and Jesus, tired as he was from the journey, sat down by the well. It was about noon. John 4:7 When a Samaritan woman came to draw water, Jesus said to her, “Will you give me a drink?” John 4:8 (His disciples had gone into the town to buy food.) John 4:9 The Samaritan woman said to him, “You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?” (For Jews do not associate with Samaritans.) John 4:10 Jesus answered her, “If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water.” John 4:11 “Sir,” the woman said, “you have nothing to draw with and the well is deep. Where can you get this living water? John 4:12 Are you greater than our father Jacob, who gave us the well and drank from it himself, as did also his sons and his livestock?” John 4:13 Jesus answered, “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, John 4:14 but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” John 4:15 The woman said to him, “Sir, give me this water so that I won’t get thirsty and have to keep coming here to draw water.” John 4:19 “Sir,” the woman said, “I can see that you are a prophet. John 4:20 Our ancestors worshiped on this mountain, but you Jews claim that the place where we must worship is in Jerusalem.” John 4:21 Jesus replied, “Believe me, dear woman, the time is coming when it will no longer matter whether you worship the Father on this mountain or in Jerusalem. John 4:22 You Samaritans know very little about the one you worship, while we Jews know all about him, for salvation comes through the Jews. John 4:23 Yet a time is coming and has now come when the true worshipers will worship the Father in the Spirit and in truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks. John 4:24 For God is Spirit, so those who worship him must worship in spirit and in truth.” John 4:25 The woman said, “I know the Messiah is coming—the one who is called Christ. When he comes, he will explain everything to us.”

Earthquake: M 1.3 - 1.5 km (0.9 mi) NE of The Geysers, CA

2023-08-23 12:17:15 (UTC) 38.787°N 122.745°W 1.0 km depth

On Burned Mountain near Socrates Mine Road and Anderson Creek.

Anderson Springs, California 4.8 km (3 mi) ESE

Matthew 4:1 Then Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. Matthew 4:2 After fasting forty days and forty nights, he was hungry. Matthew 4:3 During that time the devil came and said to him, “If you are the Son of God, tell these stones to become loaves of bread.” Matthew 4:4 But Jesus told him, “No! The Scriptures say, ‘People do not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.’” Matthew 4:5 Then the devil took him to the holy city, Jerusalem, to the highest point of the Temple, Matthew 4:6 and said, “If you are the Son of God, jump off! For the Scriptures say, ‘He will order his angels to protect you. And they will hold you up with their hands so you won’t even hurt your foot on a stone.’” Matthew 4:7 Jesus responded, “The Scriptures also say, ‘You must not test the Lord your God.’” Matthew 4:8 Next the devil took him to the peak of a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their glory. Matthew 4:9 “I will give it all to you,” he said, “if you will kneel down and worship me.” Matthew 4:10 “Get out of here, Satan,” Jesus told him. “For the Scriptures say, ‘You must worship the Lord your God and serve only him.’” Matthew 4:11 Then the devil went away, and angels came and took care of Jesus.

"We must walk consciously only part way toward our goal, and then leap in the dark to our success." - Henry David Thoreau

"All growth is a leap in the dark, a spontaneous unpremeditated act without benefit of experience." - Henry Miller

Luke 23:37 They called out to him, “If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!” Luke 23:38 A sign was fastened above him with these words: “This is the King of the Jews.” Luke 23:39 One of the criminals who hung there hurled insults at him: “Aren’t you the Messiah? Save yourself and us!” Luke 23:40 But the other criminal rebuked him. “Don’t you fear God,” he said, “since you are under the same sentence? Luke 23:41 We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong.” Luke 23:42 Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” Luke 23:43 Jesus answered him, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.” Luke 23:44 It was now about noon, and darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon, Luke 23:45 for the sun stopped shining. And the curtain of the temple was torn in two. Luke 23:46 Jesus called out with a loud voice, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.” When he had said this, he breathed his last. Luke 23:47 The centurion, seeing what had happened, praised God and said, “Surely this was a righteous man.”

“Cram them full of non-combustible data, chock them so damned full of 'facts' they feel stuffed, but absolutely 'brilliant' with information. Then they’ll feel they’re thinking, they’ll get a sense of motion without moving. And they’ll be happy, because facts of that sort don’t change.” ― Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451

Luke 12:55 And when the south wind blows, you say, ‘It’s going to be hot,’ and it is.

TANAKH (Jewish Publication Society, Hebrew-English) Page 1379: Haggai 1:1 In the second year of King Darius, on the first day of the sixth month, this word of the Lord came though the prophet Haggai to Zerubbabel son of Shealtiel, the governor of Judah, and to Joshua son of Jehozadak, the high priest: Haggai 1:2 Thus said the Lord of Hosts: These people say, "The time has not yet come for rebuilding the House of the Lord." Haggai 1:3 And the word of the Lord through the prophet Haggai continued: Haggai 1:4 Is it a time for you to dwell in your paneled houses, while this House is lying in ruins? Haggai 1:5 Now thus said the Lord of Hosts: Consider how you have been faring! Haggai 1:6 You have sowed much and brought in little; you eat without being satisfied; you drink without getting your fill; you clothe yourselves, but no one gets warm; and he who earns anything earns it for a leaky purse. Haggai 1:7 Thus said the Lord of Hosts: Consider how you have fared: Haggai 1:8 Go up to the hills and get timber, and rebuild the House; then I will look on it with favor and I will be glorified--said the Lord.

John 1:1 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. John 1:2 He was with God in the beginning. John 1:3 Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. John 1:4 In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. John 1:5 The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

Colossians 1:1 Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God, and Timothy our brother, Colossians 1:2 To God’s holy people in Colossae, the faithful brothers and sisters in Christ: Grace and peace to you from God our Father. Colossians 1:3 We always thank God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, when we pray for you, Colossians 1:4 because we have heard of your faith in Christ Jesus and of the love you have for all God’s people— Colossians 1:5 the faith and love that spring from the hope stored up for you in heaven and about which you have already heard in the true message of the gospel Colossians 1:6 that has come to you. In the same way, the gospel is bearing fruit and growing throughout the whole world—just as it has been doing among you since the day you heard it and truly understood God’s grace.

1 Peter 1:3 Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, 1 Peter 1:4 and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you, 1 Peter 1:5 who through faith are shielded by God’s power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time.

1 John 1:3 We proclaim to you what we have seen and heard, so that you also may have fellowship with us. And our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son, Jesus Christ. 1 John 1:4 We write this to make our joy complete. 1 John 1:5 This is the message we have heard from him and declare to you: God is light; in him there is no darkness at all.

Acts 2:1 When the day of Pentecost came, they were all together in one place. Acts 2:2 Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. Acts 2:3 They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them. Acts 2:4 All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit enabled them. Acts 2:5 Now there were staying in Jerusalem God-fearing Jews from every nation under heaven. Acts 2:6 When they heard this sound, a crowd came together in bewilderment, because each one heard their own language being spoken. Acts 2:7 Utterly amazed, they asked: “Aren’t all these who are speaking Galileans? Acts 2:8 Then how is it that each of us hears them in our native language? Acts 2:9 Parthians, Medes and Elamites; residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Acts 2:10 Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya near Cyrene; visitors from Rome Acts 2:11 (both Jews and converts to Judaism); Cretans and Arabs—we hear them declaring the wonders of God in our own tongues!” Acts 2:12 Amazed and perplexed, they asked one another, “What does this mean?” Acts 2:13 Some, however, made fun of them and said, “They have had too much wine.” Acts 2:14 Then Peter stood up with the Eleven, raised his voice and addressed the crowd: “Fellow Jews and all of you who live in Jerusalem, let me explain this to you; listen carefully to what I say. Acts 2:15 These people are not drunk, as you suppose. It’s only nine in the morning!

The Matrix - He Is The One

Published: June 21, 2015 (172nd day) Duration: 4:45 (285 seconds) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vy7RaQUmOzE Vy7RaQUmOzE VyRaQUmOzE aemoqruvyz 1+5+30+50+70+80+200+700+400+500=2036. 2036+7=2043. 2043+285=2328. 2328+172=2500.

Strong's Concordance #2500 cheleph: an exchange, in return for, reward for, in exchange for, passed, spare, spare part Original Word: חֵלֶף

Neo saves Trinity | The Matrix Reloaded

Published: February 19, 2018 (50th day) Duration: 4:28 (268 seconds) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L2xZ6Ev4pWk L2xZ6Ev4pWk LxZEvpWk eklpvwxz 5+10+20+60+700+900+300+500=2495. 2495+2+6+4=2507. 2507+268=2775. 2775+50=2825.

Strong's Concordance #2825 chashekah: darkness, misery Original Word: חֲשֵׁכָה

Friends, White Hall, Red Car, Trying on Clothes, Letting Go, and Winning it All…

Darius Rucker - This

Published: February 24, 2011 (55th day) Duration: 3:47 (227 seconds) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bjKFb-4t_vg bjKFb-4t_vg bjKFb-t_vg bbfgjktv 2+2+6+7+600+10+100+700=1427. 1427+4=1431. 1431+227=1658. 1658+55=1713.

Strong's Concordance #1713 dagal: up, to set up, to flaunt, i.e. Raise a flag; figuratively, to be conspicuous -- (set up, with) banners, chiefest. Original Word: דָּגַל

A banner of darkness and misery has passed: דָּגַל חֲשֵׁכָה חֵלֶף

Here's what happened to the Romans 55 years after they activated the curses of 1 Kings 1-9 by implementing the antisemitic, genocidal, ethnic cleansing, antichrist/satanic Sunday "Lord's Day":

In 376, unmanageable numbers of Goths and other non-Roman people, fleeing from the Huns, entered the Empire. In 395, after winning two destructive civil wars, Theodosius I died, leaving a collapsing field army, and the Empire, still plagued by Goths, divided between the warring ministers of his two incapable sons. Further barbarian groups crossed the Rhine and other frontiers and, like the Goths, were not exterminated, expelled or subjugated. The armed forces of the Western Empire became few and ineffective, and despite brief recoveries under able leaders, central rule was never effectively consolidated.

By 476, the position of Western Roman Emperor wielded negligible military, political, or financial power, and had no effective control over the scattered Western domains that could still be described as Roman. Barbarian kingdoms had established their own power in much of the area of the Western Empire. In 476, the Germanic barbarian king Odoacer deposed the last emperor of the Western Roman Empire in Italy, Romulus Augustulus, and the Senate sent the imperial insignia to the Eastern Roman Emperor Zeno.

While its legitimacy lasted for centuries longer and its cultural influence remains today, the Western Empire never had the strength to rise again. The Eastern Roman, or Byzantine Empire, survived and remained for centuries an effective power of the Eastern Mediterranean, although it lessened in strength. Additionally, while the loss of political unity and military control is universally acknowledged, the fall of Rome is not the only unifying concept for these events; the period described as late antiquity emphasizes the cultural continuities throughout and beyond the political collapse. (Wikipedia)

#holy bible #tanakh #christianity #judaism #christian faith #jesus christ #christian living #earthquake #dna #dna activation #bible scripture #bible study #bible verse #jewish #antisemitism #genocide #ethnic cleansing #war crimes #crimes against humanity #roman empire #Youtube

[dailychapel]

Mark 13:1–37 NLT - 1 As Jesus was leaving the Temple that day, one of his disciples said, "Teacher, look at these magnificent buildings! Look at the impressive stones in the walls." 2 Jesus replied, "Yes, look at these great buildings. But they will be completely demolished. Not one stone will be left on top of another!" 3 Later, Jesus sat on the Mount of Olives across the valley from the Temple. Peter, James, John, and Andrew came to him privately and asked him, 4 "Tell us, when will all this happen? What sign will show us that these things are about to be fulfilled?" 5 Jesus replied, "Don't let anyone mislead you, 6 for many will come in my name, claiming, 'I am the Messiah.' They will deceive many. 7 And you will hear of wars and threats of wars, but don't panic. Yes, these things must take place, but the end won't follow immediately. 8 Nation will go to war against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be earthquakes in many parts of the world, as well as famines. But this is only the first of the birth pains, with more to come. 9 "When these things begin to happen, watch out! You will be handed over to the local councils and beaten in the synagogues. You will stand trial before governors and kings because you are my followers. But this will be your opportunity to tell them about me. 10 For the Good News must first be preached to all nations. 11 But when you are arrested and stand trial, don't worry in advance about what to say. Just say what God tells you at that time, for it is not you who will be speaking, but the Holy Spirit. 12 "A brother will betray his brother to death, a father will betray his own child, and children will rebel against their parents and cause them to be killed. 13 And everyone will hate you because you are my followers. But the one who endures to the end will be saved. 14 "The day is coming when you will see the sacrilegious object that causes desecration standing where he should not be." (Reader, pay attention!) "Then those in Judea must flee to the hills. 15 A person out on the deck of a roof must not go down into the house to pack. 16 A person out in the field must not return even to get a coat. 17 How terrible it will be for pregnant women and for nursing mothers in those days. 18 And pray that your flight will not be in winter. 19 For there will be greater anguish in those days than at any time since God created the world. And it will never be so great again. 20 In fact, unless the Lord shortens that time of calamity, not a single person will survive. But for the sake of his chosen ones he has shortened those days. 21 "Then if anyone tells you, 'Look, here is the Messiah,' or 'There he is,' don't believe it. 22 For false messiahs and false prophets will rise up and perform signs and wonders so as to deceive, if possible, even God's chosen ones. 23 Watch out! I have warned you about this ahead of time! 24 "At that time, after the anguish of those days, the sun will be darkened, the moon will give no light, 25 the stars will fall from the sky, and the powers in the heavens will be shaken. 26 Then everyone will see the Son of Man coming on the clouds with great power and glory. 27 And he will send out his angels to gather his chosen ones from all over the world--from the farthest ends of the earth and heaven. 28 "Now learn a lesson from the fig tree. When its branches bud and its leaves begin to sprout, you know that summer is near. 29 In the same way, when you see all these things taking place, you can know that his return is very near, right at the door. 30 I tell you the truth, this generation will not pass from the scene before all these things take place. 31 Heaven and earth will disappear, but my words will never disappear. 32 "However, no one knows the day or hour when these things will happen, not even the angels in heaven or the Son himself. Only the Father knows. 33 And since you don't know when that time will come, be on guard! Stay alert! 34 "The coming of the Son of Man can be illustrated by the story of a man going on a long trip. When he left home, he gave each of his slaves instructions about the work they were to do, and he told the gatekeeper to watch for his return. 35 You, too, must keep watch! For you don't know when the master of the household will return--in the evening, at midnight, before dawn, or at daybreak. 36 Don't let him find you sleeping when he arrives without warning. 37 I say to you what I say to everyone: Watch for him!"

Lord, just like Moses, I boldly ask that you will show me your glory. Reveal yourself to me in deeper ways, and allow me to experience your power, glory, splendor and abundance. You are awesome and holy, and I praise your name!

[packedwithpackards]

The Nebraskan Man of Mystery: The Story of Joseph Winfield Packard

Close up of an 1897 map of Nebraska on the website of Hall County, Nebraska

On the morning of Sunday, March 13, 1910, three boys from South Sioux City, Nebraska, who were on a duck hunt, found a horrifying sight near Coburn Junction. [1] A man, said to be 27 years old, was lying beside a train track, his body mangled with a deep gash in his forehead, a broken hip, and numerous contusions and bruises across his body. He had been dead for several hours. On his person was five dollars of change, a “quart bottle of whiskey” (a fifth of a gallon or about 26 ounces), a raffle ticket, and a receipt belonging to a saloon (Duggan and Heffernan) in nearby Hubbard, Nebraska. He also had a letter on him, dated at West Cummington, Massachusetts, on an inside coat pocket addressed to “B.F. Packard” (likely an error) and signed “father.” He was, as local papers reported, killed instantly by a passing freight train that morning by accident and was dragged by the train, furthering his injuries. These same papers said he was suspected of robbery at the Duggan and Heffernan saloon on Saturday night, not an uncommon occurrence for the saloon (which had been robbed and burglarized in 1902, 1904, and 1906). [2] They also supposed that he walked down the Omaha railroad northeast toward the Coburn Junction, on his way to Sioux City, Iowa, across the Missouri River, but was overtaken by a train. His body was held “awaiting some word from his relatives.” This man was named Joseph Winfield Packard.

Joseph was the third child of Cyrus Winfield Packard (1852-1924) and Dorothy “Dora” Ann Mills (1849-1895). He was born on June 17, 1885 in the small town of Plainfield, Massachusetts. [3] His fellow siblings included 3 brothers, John Henry (1882-1950), and Charles Edward (1887-1960), Robert (1891-1956) [adopted in 1895 by the Mills family], and 3 sisters, Margaret (1884-1976), Marion Estelle (1889-1965), and Mabel Hattie (1892-1961).

Little is known about his life, how he got out to Nebraska, what his occupation was, or where he lived. He may have been a boarder with the locally-known Streeter family in Cummington, Massachusetts in 1900 due the fact that it correctly lists his father’s birth place (Massachusetts) and mother’s birthplace (New York), while saying he was born in May 1885. [4] However, since census record lists a “Joseph M Packard” rather than a “Joseph W Packard,” it cannot be confirmed that they are the same person.

Further complicating matters is his gravestone in Plainfield’s West Hill Cemetery, which his father Cyrus once oversaw. It correctly notes his dates of birth and death (1885-1910). However, it also states that he was “buried at Sioux City Nebraska” even though no such place exists! On his Find A Grave page, a family bible entry, sent to me by second cousin once removed, is attached, stating that his death date was March 10th even though it was actually March 13th. This raises the question of who provided this faulty information, which went into the family bible, and who provided the incorrect burial place which was carved into the stone.

We know from local newspaper reports that Joseph was buried in a cemetery in Dakota City on March 19, 1910. Unfortunately, searches on the page for Dakota City Cemetery, the only cemetery listed for this town on Find A Grave, have been fruitless. Joseph’s remains were taken there by coroner B.F Sawyer. The county paid the funeral expenses as his father, Cyrus, said he was a “poor man” but he would like to know “the particulars of his son[’]s death.” This charge may have had some validity. The 1910 U.S. Federal census, enumerated about a month after Joseph’s death, showed Cyrus as a farmer who mortgaged a farm in Plainfield, married to his third wife, Clementina Cheney, and having five children in the household (Olive, Herbert, Rachel, Thomas, and Harold), none of whom had any occupation listed. [5]

Despite the lingering mystery of many of the particulars of Joseph’s life beyond his birth and death, there is something we can say for certain: Joseph lived in a small town environment, with Hubbard numbering in the hundreds of people, tied into the train system to nearby towns like South Sioux City and Dakota City, which are four miles apart, both to the Northeast of the town itself. [6] When authorities attempted to bring law and order to the Dakota County, ordering the closing of “remaining gambling houses,” there is no doubt that they were thinking of places like Hubbard, which had at least one saloon. These areas, within Dakota County, were also highly influenced by the railroad and agriculture, the latter due to the fact that the county was “originally vegetated with oak prairie savannas” and lies within confluence of the major rivers draining from Minnesota (Missouri, Minnesota, Mississippi, and St. Croix). [7]

The horrific death of Joseph was not unusual for those times. During the 19th century, railroads in the U.S. were “comparatively dangerous” to workers and their passengers, especially for freight trains. [8] In 1910, Joseph was one of the 314 people killed in railroad-related deaths and over 12,000 were injured, which was even a decrease from previous years.

In the end, while there are many remaining questions about Joseph’s life, there is no question that he was, to put it mildly, the Nebraskan Man of Mystery.

Editor's Note: This article was originally slated to be published in an upcoming issue of Packard's Progress, led by Dale Cook and pushed by others, which I submitted for consideration back in January of this year. I felt that it was wrong to let this article linger without further publication, so it seemed right to publish it at this time.

Notes

[1] “Mangled Body of Man Found Near Coburn Junction,” Norfolk Weekly News-Journal, Mar 18, 1910, p 8, Death of Joseph W. Packard, Daily Deadwood Pioneer-Times, 16 Mar 1910, p. 1; “The body of a man…,” Dakota County Herald, Mar 18, 1910, p 5; “Joseph Packard, the man who…,” Dakota County Herald, Mar 25, 1910, p 5; “B F Sawyer took the remains…,” Dakota County Herald, Mar 25, 1910, p 5; “Surviving Nebraska Railroad Stations,” American-Rails.com; M.M. Warner, Warner’s History of Dakota County, Nebraska: From the Days of the Pioneers and First Settlers to the Present Time, with Biograpical Sketches, and Anecdotes of Ye Olden Times, (Dakota City, Neb.: Lyons Mirror Job Office, 1893), p 97. A 1915 railroad map assists in locating where Coburn Junction was at the time. Coburn Junction is near South Sioux City, Nebraska and is “five miles due west of Dakota City…there is neither a settlement nor post office at this point” as M.M. Warner put it in 1893.

[2] “Hold Up [at] Hubbard Saloon,” Omaha Daily Bee, Dec 24, 1902, p 1; “Nels Anderson Disappeared,” The Lincoln Star, Dec. 15, 1902, p 3; “Notorious Robber is Convicted of Murder,” Lincoln Journal Star, Feb. 22, 1904, p 7; “U S Senator Norris Brown on County Option,” Dakota County Herald, Oct 14, 1910, p 4; “Former Negro Politician Dies in Insane Hospital,” Lincoln Journal Star, Nov 5, 1907, p 1; F.B. Tipton, “Anti-Saloon Legislation,” Nebraska State Journal, Jan 4, 1907, p 8; “A Question of Point of View,” Beatrice Daily Express, Apr 2, 1903, p 1; “Law and Order League,” Lincoln Journal Star, Apr 20, 1904, p 5; “Changes in the Mulct Law,” Omaha Daily Bee, Oct 18, 1903, p 6; “The Duggan and Heffernan saloon…,” Dakota County Herald, Apr 23, 1909, p 4; “The Dugan and Heffernan saloon…,” Dakota County Herald, Nov 30, 1906, p 4. The saloon was part of the local community, like other saloons in the area, leading to debates as to whether saloons should lawfully exist in the county. This was manifested by one writer in 1903 saying saloons “serve the devil,” F.B Tipton calling for limits on Saloons in Jan 1907, Norris Brown writing in October 1910 that “the county government polices and protects the saloons,” and a Law and Order League established in Lincoln, Nebraska in 1904, calling for “the union of all temperance people, the proper enforcement of the laws and the abolition of the saloon.”

[3] "Massachusetts Births, 1841-1915," database with images, FamilySearch, Packard, 17 Jun 1885, Windsor, Berkshire, Massachusetts; citing reference ID #90, Massachusetts Archives, Boston; FHL microfilm 1,428,207. His Family Search page, which I have contributed to, like other ancestral pages, is a work in progress like all good family history. It is used for rough information on his fellow siblings, the accuracy of which I can vouch for.

[4] "United States Census, 1900," database with images, FamilySearch, accessed 4 January 2019, Joseph M Packard in household of Edward B Streeter, Cummington Town, Hampshire, Massachusetts, United States; citing enumeration district (ED) 618, sheet 2A, family 31, NARA microfilm publication T623 (Washington, D.C.: National Archives and Records Administration, 1972.); FHL microfilm 1,240,653.

[5] "United States Census, 1910," database with images, FamilySearch, Cyrus W Packard, Plainfield, Hampshire, Massachusetts, United States; citing enumeration district (ED) ED 712, sheet 1A, family 20, NARA microfilm publication T624 (Washington D.C.: National Archives and Records Administration, 1982), roll 594; FHL microfilm 1,374,607.

[6] Charlene Jenson, “Hubbard,” Virtual Nebraska, 2005; Lori Steenhoven, “South Sioux City,” Virtual Nebraska, 2005; Shirley Sides, “Dakota City,” Virtual Nebraska, 2005; “Trains,” Sioux City History, accessed Jan 4, 2019.

[7] “A Premier County,” Dakota County Historical Society, accessed Jan 4, 2019; “Hastings Downtown District Added to National Register of Historic Places,” History Nebraska, Jan 3, 2019.

[8] Charles W. McDonald, “100 Years of Safer Railroads,” Aug 1993, p 14; March Aldrich, “History of Workplace Safety in the United States, 1880-1970,” accessed Jan 4, 2019.

Note: This was originally posted on August 2, 2019 on the main Packed with Packards WordPress blog (it can also be found on the Wayback Machine here). My research is still ongoing, so some conclusions in this piece may change in the future.

© 2019-2022 Burkely Hermann. All rights reserved.

#railroads #trains #packards #genealogy #family history #lineage #genealogy research #ancestry #nebraska #massachusetts #west cummington #cummington #iowa #adoption #find a grave #census #dakota county #saloons #workplace safety #births #alcoholism #drinking

[landinoandco]

Could I ask for a Max Verstappen request?

Where you get all excited to tell him you’re pregnant and it doesn’t go well. Could you make it super angsty

Of course you can :) here you go, I hope you enjoy! 

Max Verstappen x reader 

Warnings: angst but with fluff at the end

Word count: 2.2 k 

Requests are open...

Baby, the future is ours

At last the summer break had rolled around again, to the relief of the Formula one drivers and crew, they had 3 long weeks ahead of them to fill with whatever they deemed stress-free or relaxing. The subject of activity depending on person to person - most sane folk tended to stick to a holiday to Greece or if you were an adrenaline junkie like Daniel Ricciardo jumping out of planes or BMX biking. You had lost count of the times Max - your boyfriend - had rushed in to tell you about all of the exciting things his best friend had gotten up to as of late. 

You and Max had decided to take a break and travel to a cosy, quiet part of Italy - to escape the press, the stress and most importantly the eagle eye of social media. It would just be you and him for a few weeks before reality brought you back to Milton Keynes in the shape of Christian Horner and his motley crew. 

You and Max had met in 2018 at a gala event Redbull had hosted, Pierre Gasly - being a close friend of yours - had introduced you two and to say the pair of you hit it off instantly was an understatement, whether it was a mixture of the Dutch meets British humour you had no clue but you weren’t one to complain. A few months later and Max had asked you to travel around the world with him - you did so willingly and life had been nearing perfect ever since. Of course you had your ups and downs, where the universe seemed to really test not only your love for one and other but your patience. A few arguments had shown you that both being hot-headed never ended well. 

You were sat out on the balcony, a book in hand and looking out into the Italien countryside. Max had left for a run and to explore the local village, leaving you, your thoughts and your growing baby. You were pregnant - you had taken the test just before flying out, this meant that Max wasn’t aware. You hadn’t told him yet and you had no clue how you were going to. As it turns out telling your partner you were pregnant was easier said than done - ironically. 

You and Max hadn’t had the baby talk yet - you had but only along the lines of: “one day, when we’re older and married and driving isn’t the main priority anymore.” Those were Max’s words. He wanted to be there for his child, to watch him or her grow, to see every milestone but most importantly to be a good and nurturing father. 

There was part of you that was slightly worried because you just didn’t know how Max would take it - you couldn’t keep it in any longer though. You had to tell him. There was another part of you that was excited - from a very young age you knew you wanted to have a family of your own with the person you loved the most. Call it childish naivety. At this point in time, you were ready to become a mother - well as ready as anyone ever could be. 

Placing your book onto the table, you made your way into the kitchen, grabbed a glass and filled it. Sighing loudly as you leant onto the countertop. 

“That was a loud sigh.” A voice called out from behind you. You recognised it instantly. Whipping your head around, you saw Max standing there, wiping the sweat from his forehead. 

Chuckling, you hit back, “Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

Rolling his eyes, he made his way over to you and wrapped his arms around your middle, placing a sweet, chaste kiss onto the side of your head. Leaning into his warm embrace, you let out another long but content sigh. 

“Seriously, what is it with you and sighing today.” Max uttered, his lips still against the side of your head. 

You went to move forward, out of his welcoming embrace. You knew what you had to do. 

“There’s something I need to tell you.” Instantly the atmosphere changed, you could feel Max stiffen behind you. Maybe the tone you chose to make that comment in was too serious but it was now or never. 

“Haha, which of your friends is pregnant this time.” He quipped jokingly, trying to break the tension. 

Instantly you knew the way the conversation was going to end, a pang of hurt felt in your stomach. You squeezed your eyes shut, catching your lip with your teeth. He stood there with an air of innocence and unknown, concern dancing in his eyes - he went to reach his arm out to you, to offer that encouragement. 

You braved the words that came out of your lips, “Me.” You almost whispered. Time seemed to slow. Max dropped his arm and instantly took a step back. 

“Pardon.” Was the only thing he could force out of his mouth, his throat seemed to close up and his hands went clammy. He definitely heard you the first time but he wanted to make sure it wasn’t a night terror. A bad dream he had failed to wake from. 

“I am, Max,” You said again, your voice wavering. 

“Oh.” He stated, his face drained of colour, his mouth set in a straight line. 

“Is that all you have to say.” You swallowed thickly, your eyes swam with tears. You had a hunch this was how it was going to end but it didn’t stop is from hurting the way it did. You had hoped he would have proved you wrong, to have wrapped his arms around you and to have spun you around. To have laughed. To have cried. To have shown a little more excitement to the fact you were now carrying his child. His first child. 

You moved past him and sat down on one of the wooden chairs, rubbing your hands over your face. He was still stood there. His eyes fixated on the view out of the window. No emotion read in his eyes. It was almost like you had hit the ‘off’ button. He tapped his foot and made a clicking noise with his mouth before turning around to face you - meeting your gaze. 

“How long have you known.” His voice was hoarse.

“A couple of days before we flew out.” You answered him, moving your face back to rest in your hands. 

There was a pause. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner.”

You took a breath, looking him dead in the eye. “Because I knew this was how you were going to react.” You didn’t trust your voice at all, you also didn’t know whether you wanted to scream at him or cry in the corner. 

“Right.” Was all he said. Still stood there like some awkward teenager after a rather large telling off from their mother. 

“Is that all you have to say to me?” You asked him, nostrils flaring. You were allowed to be angry, right? 

“What do you expect me to say.” He rounded on you, his voice raising more than was necessary. Tears had spilled down your cheeks, you didn’t have the energy to fight back. As soon as he realised the effect this was having on you, he went to move forward again, his eyes softening instantly. “I’m sorry - I - I shouldn’t have raised my-”

“Get out, Max.” You stated lowly. By this point, you had stood up, shuddering away from his desperate grasp. He knew he had made a mistake. You knew he regretted it, the moment the words had left his mouth. 

“Get out?” He repeated quietly, his voice cracking, you could see tears glazing his vision. 

“Just - please, go on a walk - come back once you have more to say to me.” You spat.

“But - But I already have more to say-” You cut his rambling off once again. 

“Please. Max.” You insisted, your voice betraying you again. “Go.” You whispered. 

Max stormed out of the door, ensuring to slam it so hard the chandelier on the ceiling swung precariously. You sank back into your chair and let out a loud sob, unable to hold it in any longer. 

Max was mad. Not at you, that would be unfair. He was mad at himself. At the world. At everything actually because at this point why the hell not. You were pregnant - don’t get him wrong, he was over the moon. He was going to be a dad. 

It was too soon. 

He still had his full F1 career ahead of him. A promising and long F1 career as a matter of fact. He wanted a baby to be his main priority and he wanted to share those one in a lifetime moments with you. He knew there was no point in being mad, it wasn’t like they were in a position where they couldn’t have a child. They had plenty of things to offer, a nurturing home with parents who were head over heels in love with each other and a large family - blood and not - who would be willing to support and love the child as if it was their own. Max really was in love with you. He knew it would be you to mother his children in the end, he just didn’t think it would be now. 

He reached for his phone, went into his contacts and pressed on the number that read the name: “D.R new phone.” Whilst it wasn’t adventurous like many thought it would be, it saved the confusion from calling a number that no longer existed. 

Daniel picked up on the second ring. “Hey dude, how’s it going?” 

“Not good at all, Dan, not good at all.” Max admitted, his voice wavering once again. He explained the events that had happened a mere 5 minutes ago, the way he reacted and the way he left you. Hurt and alone.

“I’m not going to lie to you, mate, you’ve fucked up big time.” Dan spoke after what felt like a loud silence. After all, Daniel knew you just as well as he knew Max. 

“I know. I know I have, do you think I’ve been selfish?” He asked, his tone full of raw emotion. 

“Yes.” Dan stated simply, “I think you have been, especially since she even told you this is how she thought you would react. How much stress do you think she had been putting on herself? Come one, I’ve taught you to be better than this.” Daniel paused, Max could almost hear him place his thumb and ring finger onto the bridge of his nose. “You know, just as well as I know, she knows it isn’t the best time. Her becoming pregnant is very much a two person job, I think it’s time that you go back to her and have a conversation like the adult I know you are.” 

In that moment, Max was so grateful to have someone like Dan just a call away. “Thank you, Dan. Really. I don’t know what I would do without you.” 

“Alright Mr Father-to-be, don’t be going all soppy on me now.” Daniel joked, returning back to his normal teasing. That was the best thing about Daniel, he was quite useful when you needed him to be. 

“You can count yourself on being the godfather after that.” Max added, a large beaming smile plastered onto his face. 

He heard Dan let out a loud laugh, “Go on, leave me be. Good luck, mate, let me know how it goes and when the time is right tell her I say congrats.” 

“Of course, mate. Thank you, again.” Max muttered, looking back in the direction of the villa. After he hung up, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and ambled slowly - working out exactly what he was going to say to you. 

Once he had opened the door, he called out to you. “Babe?” He heard a sniffle in response. You were still slumped on the chair in the kitchen, shooting daggers at the cupboard opposite. 

Max sat opposite you, reaching out for your hand. Grudgingly you let him take it, you blinked and he took a deep breath before a large, beaming smile crept onto his face.

“We’re going to be parents.” He rubbed the back of your hand, speaking tentatively. You nodded, your lower lip trembled. Max stood up, still keeping a hold of your hand as he gave it a slight tug, indicating that you should stand up. You made your way into his embrace, his arms wrapping securely around you, tucking your face into the crook of your neck as he rocked gently side to side, burying his face into your hair. He then moved his hands to cradle your face, wiping the stray tears away before peppering your face with feather light kisses. 

“We’re going to be parents.” He repeated, a little louder and to this you let out another sob, laughing as he picked you up and spun you around. 

“I’m sorry. I was being selfish.” He said, as he wrapped you back up into his arms. You smiled into his chest. In that moment, you couldn’t be happier. It was like all of your childhood dreams had come true. In that kitchen stood your new family, mismatched and sometimes a little bit broken but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#f1 #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen fanfic #f1blr #f1 2021 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #f1 fanfic #formula one one shot #formula 1 x reader #formula one fanfiction #formula one x reader #fanfiction #f1 requests

[darkmulti]

(Yandere and non con warning)

Def not the only one who wants a 18th century h.c of possessive and controlling, husband!Jungkook x forced wife!reader. Jungkook gets jealous after witnessing another man asking you out and when you come back home at night, he breeds you. Please make it rough and non con. Thank you❤️‍🔥

-> you’re definitely not the only one. I can assure you that I’ve thought about this too many times😫

⚠️: NON CON, YANDERE!JUNGKOOK, Squirting/piss play, Physically, mental and emotional abuse, spit play,

-> sorry for any mistakes

Your parents owned a local bakery store

All the recipes were from your late grandmother

You spent almost all of your time there because you were in charge of everything

The store was under your parents’ name but you were the one running it

Sometimes, you even slept there because it’d be too late to walk home

Your dedication to the bakery made it successful

Although, you were the one doing all the work, you parents took all the credit and money

They weren’t paying you because you’re their child

They don’t need to pay you

“It’s a women’s place.” Your father said

You wanted to go back to school however, your parents laughed in your face

“School aren’t for girls, Y/N. Learn how to cook and clean. That’s all you need to know. Let the men handle everything else.”

You were tired of fighting with them and eventually stopped because they threatened to set you up in an arrange marriage

Now, it was just you and the bakery

You had many loyal customers and recently, one has been coming everyday, at the same time

He’d always buy a loaf of banana bread and if he was in a good mood, a blueberry muffin as well

Then, he’d sit in the corner table and eat two - three slices before getting up and leaving

He’d always leave a tip behind and you always kept it for yourself

One day, he didn’t come and you were surprised

For a year straight, he came and bought the same two things

Now, he hasn’t visited in 4 days

Tonight, you came back home for the first time in a while

Your parents had visited the bakery to collect “their” earnings and told you that you have to go somewhere with them that evening

After closing up and cleaning up, you went home and got ready

Your parents were taking you out for dinner as a treat for all your hard work

You were really excited because they were finally acknowledging your hard work

Once you arrived at the restaurant, your parents lead you to a table that already had three people seated

You immediately recognize one of them

It’s that guy who buys your banana loaf!

You sat in front of him while your parents greeted the two other strangers

“Oh, so this is your daughter? She’s gorgeous! Come here and give me a hug.”

You awkwardly chuckled and got up to hug the middle aged women

“Oh! Where are my manners? My name is Jeon F/N, this is my husband, Jeon F/N and this is our son, Jeon Jungkook. We’re your soon to be in laws!”

You heart dropped to the floor

“I-in laws?” You asked, confused

“Yeah, honey. Is this your first time hearing about this? We’ve been talking to your parents for a while now.”

You snapped your head towards you parents and they looked emotionless

“No, no they didn’t tell me anything.”

Dinner with them was hell

Your parents were talking about your wedding arrangements right in front of you

You didn’t know what to do

You wanted to rebel but then your parents would disown you

Just like that, you’d be homeless with little money to survive

In the end, you’d be paying the heavy price

You looked at Jungkook who was staring at you the whole time

You wondered if he knew about this

Maybe, that’s why he came to the bakery everyday

“Did you know anything about this?” You said loud enough for him to hear

“I did.”

“For how long?”

“Since last year.”

You eyes widen, in shock

You were right!

“Why didn’t you stop it?”

“Why would I stop it when I’m the one who wants it?”

You scrunch your eyebrows, in confusion

“What’re you talking about?”

“Since the first day I met you, I wanted to marry you. I told my parents and now, we’re getting married.”

Now, you were mad

You got up and stormed off, catching everyone’s attention

You walked to the bakery and locked yourself in

Here, you thought your parents were acknowledging you for first time, when they were actually setting you up for a marriage so they don’t have to take care of you

You cried yourself to sleep that night

The next couple of weeks, the bakery was closed due to your wedding

The wedding was spectacular

You would’ve love it if you weren’t being forced into a marriage

After the wedding, Jungkook took your precious virginity

He made sure to pleasure you until you passed out

He was so in love with you

Now, he was finally able to show you how much he loved you

And mark you as his

The next couple of months, he was attached to you

He took over his family’s business and you took over your family’s business

He’d visit you every day at work to check if you’re with another man

He was so paranoid about it, sometimes he’d come by 3 or 4 times to make sure you were not cheating

You thought he missed you and that’s why he kept stopping by (which is half true) however, you had no idea that he was possessive and controlling

You had to learn the hard way

Sometimes, you wouldn’t leave work until midnight

You had so much things to do like preparing for the next day, making a to-do list, making a grocery lists, and cleaning every area of the shop

It’s time consuming, so obviously you finish up pretty late

Jungkook absolutely hates that

Although you stay late in the shop once in a while, he can’t stand it

He wants you to be in his arms every night

Jungkook gets angry when you’re not

This was your fourth time staying out late in the shop and he’s had enough

He couldn’t help but feel paranoid about what you were actually doing in the shop

What if you lied and went on a date with another man?

What if you were running away from him?

Or even worse, what if you were having sex with another guy?

He raced to the bakery and banged on the door, which scared you

You saw that it was him and let him in

“W-what’s wrong?! You scared me!”

“Grab your stuff, we’re going home.”

“But I’m not done yet! I only have a couple more things to do and then I’ll come home. I told you already-”

“I don’t think you fucking heard me!” He yelled and grabbed your hair

“Grab your shit, we are leaving right now.”

He pushed you towards the counter and crossed his arms

You let your breath out in shock but scurry to get your stuff

You’ve never seen him like this and it terrified you

“I have my stuff.”

“Good, let’s go.”

He helped you lock the door and wrapped his arm around your waist

The walk home was silent

You were scared shitless

All you wanted to do was run back into your parents’ house

But he didn’t let you move an inch away from him

Once you got home, he started pushing you around and arguing some more

“Jungkook, I told you this afternoon when you came to visit! I said I have to stay late so I don’t have to stress myself out in the morning!”

“Don’t fucking lie to me! Who were you fucking seeing?!” He screamed, frightening you more

“No one! I swear, no one!” You whimpered

He corned you into your shared room and locked the door

“Jungkook, I swear! Nothing happened!”

He didn’t believe a single word coming out of your mouth

It was like you were talking to a wall

He pushed you onto the bed and stripped you naked

Jungkook pushed two fingers into your cunt and pretended to scoop out cum

“If nothing happened, why is your cunt full of cum?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! I didn’t have sex with anyone!”

You weren’t very educated about sex, so Jungkook had an advantage

You began apologizing even though you didn’t have sex with anyone

You just wanted peace between you two

“I’m sorry! I didn’t cheat or anything, but I’m sorry if it hurt you! I really am!”

Jungkook slapped you and spat on your face

“Dirty slut. Telling me that you’re not cheating but still apologizing.”

“No! Please, I didn’t do anything!”

Jungkook pulled his cock out and shoved it in without warning

You were still new to sex so when he didn’t let you adjust, you automatically started screaming and crying

“Please, slower!” You cried, holding onto his biceps as he went faster and deeper

“Stop! Please!”

Jungkook loved the sound of his balls clapping against your ass

It honestly made him harder

All night, he was on top, fucking you hard

Your legs were spread apart, tears in your eyes and sweat dripping down your forehead

You looked like a hot mess

And he loved every second of it

“Mmh- Jungkook!”

You squirted around him and had a trembling orgasm

You couldn’t stop releasing your liquids on him and he couldn’t stop pounding you

The bed sheet was soaked by the end of it

He pushed his cock deep inside and came

After Jungkook fell asleep, you cried for while

How were you supposed to tolerate him for the rest of your life?

The next morning

You woke up in severe pain

You lower region was begging for some pain relief

But there was nothing you could do about it

Jungkook was still sleeping next to you

You decided to leave before he wakes up

After getting ready by leaning on everything, you slowly walked to town

When you arrived at the bakery, you saw a big “for sale” sign

You panicked and went inside the store, only to be greeted by your parents

“Mother, father! Why is there a “for sale” sign on the bakery?”

You parents looked at each other in disappointment

“You see, we have to explain the obvious to your daughter. Be grateful that someone willingly married your idiot daughter.” Your father said before walking out

His words did hurt but you cared about the bakery more than your father

“Why’re you selling it, mother? Can you not afford it anymore? Why-”

“Shut up, Y/N! You’re married now, you have wifely duties. You don’t have time for this bakery so the best option is to sell it.”

Your world fell apart right before your eyes

“But mother-”

“Save it. You already made your father upset. I’m warning you now, you don’t want to get on my bad side.”

You cried the whole morning

After you opened the bakery, lots of people gathered in line

All breads, cakes and muffins were going on sale

After you served the people in line, you went up to the tables and took their order

After you served them, a regular customer who was sitting alone gestured you to come over

You went over to the man and asked him if he needed anything

He told you to take a seat and accompany him

Since the crowd died down, you sat down in front of him

“You look a bit stressed and sad. What’s on your mind?”

You were touched by his words

Finally, someone cared about you

You told him you were upset about the bakery closing

He understood and even offered money to help you keep it open

You were flattered but didn’t accept the money

“Money’s not a problem, my parents just don’t want to keep this shop open.”

You talked with this guy for a couple of hours

Although this was your first time talking to him, you talked to him like he was your best friend

When closing time came around, he got up and asked you out on a date

You didn’t know what to do

You were married but you really liked this guy

You were considering saying yes when someone pulled his shoulder back and punched him across the face

“Jungkook! What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“You think I didn’t see that?! I saw it all. I saw you flirting with my wife for three hours straight and then asking her out on a date!”

Jungkook beat the crap out of the guy and pushed him outside

He then came back in the store, looking at you with devil eyes

“Yesterday’s punishment clearly wasn’t enough.”

The entire way home, he was yelling at you, slapping you, spitting on you, pulling your hair, pushing you to the ground and choking you

You were crying the whole time, apologizing over and over

When you arrived home, he seriously had no mercy on you

No foreplay, no lube, no adjusting

Just a raw, thick cock being forced into you

You were begging him to let you go but tonight, nothing was going to stop him

He was moving his hips insanely fast, not giving you enough time to breathe

You were choking on your own sobs

“Jungkook, please no! I’m sorry!”

“Why did you hesitate to deny his offer? You are a married fucking women!” With each word a hard thrust followed, knocking all the air out of you

“Answer me! Is he better than me? Does he take care of you? Does he provide money for you? TELL ME!” He was yelling so loudly, it was making you cry harder

“N-no, he doesn’t. He was just the first person to care about me.” You whispered the last sentence but, Jungkook was able to make it out

“Are you saying that I don’t care about you?”

He got more aggressive and fastened his pace

“Tell me, Y/N! Do you think that I don’t care about you?!”

You couldn’t answer him because you couldn’t catch your breath

He was going too fast and you were crying so hard, you couldn’t breathe

Jungkook noticed how much you were struggling and added onto your struggle by holding your neck down

“Apologize, right now Jeon Y/N!”

You softly apologize but it wasn’t good enough for him

He lifted your legs a little, giving him better access and fucked you till you squirted

This time you sobbed your apology and begged for forgiveness

“I’m so sorry, Jungkook! It’ll never— ah! It’ll never happen again! I’m so sorry! Please for- forgive me for my dumb m-mistake. Please! I’m begging you.” You held onto the bed sheet, praying he would stop

He huskily growled and pushed his cock in deep

“For the next 9 months you’ll be swelling with my baby. Now, everyone can back off.”

He shot his hot cum right into you, filling you up to the rim

Sorry for any mistakes. It’s 3:41am 😄

#jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #bts smut #non con #bts yandere #yandere bts #yandere jungkook

[peach-and-bugs]

💜Fairytail - Agatha Harkness x fem!Salem reader (she/they pronouns)💜

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10

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Summary: Agatha can still recall the rush of excitement that used to fill her chest whenever you held her hand, even after nearly 330 years. She can also recall the bitter pain of leaving you behind when she was forced to leave the sanctity of her Salem home. She's spent her time growing wiser and stronger, but a part of her still longs for that familiar safe feeling once again. She doesn't know how or when she'll find you, but this definitely wasn't how she imagined your reunion might go...

Warnings: Angst and fluff

Word count: 4,367

A/N: Alright, so I couldn't finish chapter 19 of Passing Notes today, but still wanted to post, so here we go. Initially, this was going to be an extended one-shot, posted all at once, but I don't really have the energy for that and haven't worked on the other parts in months. so instead, I'll be posting this intermittently in parts, like my Lilith/Madam Satan fic, Baby steps. I still love the concept and plan to finish it, but frankly, it's too long for one post already I still have a ways to go. As always, feel free to leave questions or comments in my comments or ask box, and happy reading! 💜

Fairytale Tag List: @danvers97

Agatha Harkness Tag List: —-

General Tag List: —-

-💜-

Sometime during the late 1600s...

Meeting you had been a complete accident. She was supposed to be at home studying up on her rune castings when she dragged herself out into the forest purely from boredom. She would be fine if she got home before her mother, who wasn’t even in town at present. She found you deep in the forest, among one of the more magical partings in the trees. She froze when she saw another form moving among the undergrowth, and when she got a better look at you she was instantly fascinated.

She hadn’t met many other girls her age. Her mother had waited sometime before having a child in comparison to the other mothers in the coven. Most of the younger witches were already in their 20’s and had no interest in mingling with a teenager of her age. But gazing from her hiding place, she saw you, a girl that had to be her age, milling around the clearing as though you were looking for something. She immediately froze when your head shot up and locked on her hiding place. She’d stepped on twigs without meaning it.

“Hello? Who’s out there?” you had called with wavering confidence. She watched as you moved slowly, then took a step back with clenched fists. She had to stifle laughter when you grabbed hold of a large stick on the ground to use as a weapon, but she cursed herself for startling you nonetheless. She came out of her hiding place with an anxious wave, holding up her arms in innocence. You looked her up and down with a shared curiosity before crossing your arms, the stick now tucked under your elbow.

“Were you spying on me?” you asked with a hint of laughter in your tone. She glanced away nervously before smiling at herself. She nodded and watched as she gave you a playful smirk. She was surprised by your rather sudden confidence.

“Yes, I might have been. But I never meant any harm,” she said with a rather coy smile. You giggled in response and propped your stick up against a tree before taking a step closer, approaching with your hands clasped behind your back. Your gaze was looking her up and down, but she found that she didn’t mind.

“No, I don’t think you mean me harm,” you seemed to confirm in a voice that only seemed meant for you. You held out your hand to her and gave her a honey-sweet grin. “I’m y/n. y/n y/l/n. My father’s one of the local cattlemen and my mother’s the town midwife.” you explained. She hesitated in taking your hand, startled by how close you had gotten to her. When she did take your handshake, she was surprised by how soft your palm was against her own.

However, she felt something else. Something warm that seemed to crawl under your skin. It was a new feeling, yet familiar at the same time. She felt as though she would get lost in it if she held your hand for long enough.

“You don’t seem familiar. Are you from one of the other villages?” you wondered out loud as you returned her handshake. Agatha was lost for a moment, too busy gazing into your eyes to hear your question. She squeezed her eyes shut and felt her face flush before letting her eyes flutter open once more as she let go of your hand.

“I’m sorry, what did you ask?” she stumbled over her words and you laughed. You’d let go of her hand by now, and when she noticed a part of her longed for the contact again, even for a moment.

“I asked who you were, and where you’re from,” she nodded, twirling a strand of the baby hairs along her neckline around her finger, (a habit she had picked up from her mother as a small child.)

“I’m from outside the village, along the treeline,” she explained rather vaguely. You arched a brow, crossing your arms in front of you again.

“My mother always said that only witches live past the trees,” Agatha felt her muscles tense before your serious expression became one of laughter.

“I’m kidding. Everyone knows that those are just stories mothers tell their children so they don’t go running off into the forest. The only real danger out here is probably bears, but I’m not worried,” you babbled with a silly smile. Agatha relaxed some, but there was still a twisting tension in her belly from your comment.

“Well, I guess those stories didn’t work very well,” she managed to quip back, hoping you didn’t hear the hesitation in her joke. You furrowed your brow, not understanding as Agatha glanced down at her shoes, which she shuffled around in the dirt. “Because you’re deep in the forest. Where the witches are supposed to be,” she awkwardly mumbled. You grinned once you heard her with soft laughter.

“I guess you’re right,” you laughed, your nose wrinkling as you did so. Agatha turned her gaze back up to you and was mesmerized by the way your face contorted in joyful laughter, even when she had to explain her joke. When you had finished you gave her a wide, sparkly smile as a few extra giggles trickled from your lips. She watched you say something, but she didn’t catch it over the buzzing in her head.

“Sorry, again. What did you say?” she could feel embarrassed warmth rush into her complexion, but your smile told her you didn’t mind.

“You never told me your name,” you repeated and she blinked, internally slapping herself for getting your name but forgetting about her own.

“Agatha Harkness. But you can call me Agatha,” her words were rushed as though saying them faster would also have her say it earlier in the conversation.

“Harkness. That’s a mouthful, but also very pretty,” you commented. You began to sway ever so slightly as you spoke with her, as though any tension from this stranger before you had melted away by now. It was rather endearing if Agatha was honest.

“Thank you. My mother says it’s been around for a while,” she shrugged. Harkness used to be a respected and feared witch’s name, back when normal society saw magic as a gift from the gods rather than a curse from the devil. Now, as far as she knew, Agatha and her mother were the only ones left to carry on the name. You smiled at that when something caught your eye.

“Wow, it’s late. I should be getting home. Father will kill me if I’m out after dark,” your demeanor became tough and rigid again. Agatha couldn’t help the worry that seemed to tangle in her already knotted-up stomach. She watched as you frantically collected a basket that had been hidden behind a bush this whole time and rushed past her. Without thinking it over, she grabbed hold of your sleeve, nearly causing you to fall in your rushed state.

“Wait! Let me walk you,” you bit your lower lip in hesitation, still somewhat pulling your sleeve away “just so that you’ll be safe. There may not be witches out here, but it’s still dangerous,” she explained, and the soft look in her gaze seemed to force you to give in.

“What about you? Will you be ok getting home alone?” you asked her once she had let go of your sleeve. She shrugged with a confident grin.

“I grew up running around these woods. If something were to go wrong, I’d be alright,” she assured you. You smiled at her confidence and let out a small laugh as the two of you began to walk home, the sun setting around you and draping the forest in orange and pink hues. You both stayed relatively quiet during your walk home.

You hadn’t gone far into the forest, but the walk back home seemed so much shorter than you remembered. It was getting darker now and a few stars began to dot the sky above the two of you, the sun fading away as the moon took her place. Pushing past the brush, Agatha could make out the forest treeline. The village was just beyond that, and your time together would be finished. She tensed at the thought, biting her lower lip.

You must have been able to tell how she was feeling, as a warm hand stayed clasped around her own and she felt that familiar buzzing under your skin. She was glad that it had grown dark around the two of you. Pushing through the brush, now hand in hand, Agatha had to stifle a gasp as the new moonlight captured your features, bathing you in a soft embrace that she wanted to keep locked in her memory.

“My house isn’t far from here, I can go the rest of the way alone,” your voice was soft, whispering as she stared, unblinking. She felt you begin to pull away, but she didn’t let go.

“Can we meet again? Tomorrow?” her voice was quick again like she feared your answer. You seemed surprised for a time but smiled with a quick nod.

“Sunrise. We’ll meet in the clearing again,” you replied, squeezing her hand in reassurance. She nodded, before hesitantly letting you go. You waved your goodbyes’ and she watched from the treeline as you ran to one of the village houses. A man, who Agatha assumed was your father, met you at the door and brought you into an embrace as you disappeared into the warm candlelight of your cottage.

-*-

“You want to read my palms to predict my future?” you asked with a smirk. Agatha was sitting across from you in your clearing, while you were laying on your back with your hands clasped on your belly and your legs propped up in front of you against a tree, your body making a capital “L” shape. She watched as you clicked your heels together. She also admired the way your hair formed a halo of sorts around you in the grass.

It had been some time now since the two of you met, and you had spent practically every day since together. Agatha still hadn’t told you about her magic, or that she was a witch since she had no idea how to break news like that. But she did enjoy sprinkling in little hints of her gifts, thinking that maybe you would eventually conclude yourself. You hadn’t yet, but she wasn’t giving up.

“I’m only reading your heart lines, which mostly talk about your love life,” she explained, rolling her eyes.

“Why? Do you think someone likes me?” you wiggled your eyebrows and she had to repress the blush that threatened her ears.

“I don’t know, but probably. There is a tone of people our age in that village, and you’re very sweet,” you pouted, poking out your bottom lip and pressing a hand to your chest.

“Aw, Aggi, you’re too good to me,” you joked and she rolled her eyes at your teasing. She then reached out her hand and made a grabbing motion. You gave her your dominant palm but didn’t move from your position. Agatha scooted closer to you, sitting right by your head with her legs crossed. She moved your hair out of the way, and it now dangled in her lap.

She held your hand with her own, tracing her fingertips over the creases in your palm. She felt that buzzing again, which had become a comfort to her in the time you had spent together. She spent a few minutes flexing your fingers and tracing the lines, studying every knick and scratch so that she could lock it in her memory.

“So, what’s the verdict?” she interrupted her. She hadn’t meant to get distracted, but that tended to happen whenever she held your hand. She felt a faint flush come over her complexion, but she powered through it with a small shake of her head.

“Well, this line here,” she traced it lightly with her fingertip and you had to refrain from giggling at the ticklish sensation, “it moves straight up towards your index finger. Which means you either are or will meet someone who is really in touch with emotions that are their own and belong to other people,” she explained. You grinned up at her from your position and nodded.

“That sound’s good. What else?” At that, you shifted your position, letting your head rest in her lap as you closed your eyes. Agatha had to refrain from squeezing your hand too hard.

“Um, you have a lot of little lines crossing over your mane line. That could mean you’ll go through some hardships when it comes to love,” you frowned and bit the inside of your cheek at this with your eyes still shut.

“That doesn’t sound as good,” you mumbled in your joking tone and Agatha let out a small laugh that sounded a little too much like a sigh.

“But, there’s an upside. Your line splits into three little lines at the very end. That means you’ll also have a lot of luck with love and other parts of your life,” she reassured you. You opened your eyes now to look up at her and smiled once more.

“So I’ll either be or be with an emotionally available person and have trouble with love, but I’ll ultimately have luck at the same time?” you clarified. Agatha shrugged and slowly let go of her hand, already missing the contact as she watched it settle on your stomach again.

“The lines never lie,” she joked and you wrinkled your nose.

“I dunno if I believe you,” Agatha laughed again, leaning back on one of her hands as the other timidly messed with the ends of your hair.

“I guess we’ll have to wait and see then,”

“How long do you think that’ll take?”

“I’m not sure. But we have all the time in the world to figure it out,”

-*-

Agatha never told you about her magic in the past year you had known each other. She wasn’t ashamed of her gifts, and part of her really wanted to show you, but the fear of your possible reaction held her back. It killed her to lie when you asked about mundane things like school and her home life, but it was worth it if she got to be with you.

Unfortunately, this became harder the more powerful she became. Stronger magic required more energy. You seemed to notice the tired demeanor she had adopted and the flood of worried questions was becoming too much. Still, she couldn’t come forward and tell you, so she formed a plan. She would somehow subtly hint that she was a witch and could do magic, allowing you to conclude on your own. This was easier said than done.

Her first attempt was talking and joking about witches with you.

“Did you ever hear that witches have familiars?” she asked you one day out of the blue while you had been lying beside her in the grass reading. You looked up at her with an arched brow that conveyed confusion, paired with an amused grin.

“What are you going on about Aggi?” you asked her, the book now abandoned, laying spine up on your chest. Agatha fiddled with her hair, twirling it around her finger as she tilted her head down to gaze at you. The sunlight captured your features and for a moment she forgot what she had been talking about.

“You had mentioned you heard stories about witches growing up. I was curious about what you might know,” she fumbled over her lie. You still had that confused look but shrugged.

“No, I didn’t know about familiars,” you watched her awkwardly glance away and nod as she fidgeted with her hair. “Wanna tell me about them?” you asked, clearly trying to indulge her in whatever game you thought she might be playing. She glanced back at you and smiled before going into a ramble about familiars and what they were believed to be. When you thought it was only a story, she thought up another idea.

“Have you ever seen a witch?” she asked you another day while collecting flowers in a field the two of you would frequent on the outskirts of the forest. You gave her that confused yet interested look again and shook your head.

“Not to my knowledge,” you said simply, turning your attention to the flowers again, which you had been collecting in a woven basket held in your right hand. She watched as you ever so gently broke the floor stems as though you feared hurting them if you were too rough. She admired that softness in your grip. You turned around again with your hands on your hips, tilting your head with an amused sparkle in your eyes. “Why, are you going to tell me all about the witches you’ve seen creeping around the forest?”

Your question was meant as a joke, but somehow Agatha felt caught, like you were starting to put two and two together. That had of course been her whole reasoning for bringing up witches and witchcraft so often, but now that her plan was possibly working she wasn’t sure what to do. She stayed still as you approached her with long, slow strides, grinning at her playfully. Once you were less than inches away from her, you began to study the worried witch before you.

“What’s gotten into you lately anyway? You know I love your antics, but all this witch talk has been practically constant,” you smirked, straightening to your full height. You casually reached out to adjust her ajar collar, making Agatha’s throat clog up. She sucked in a quick breath between her teeth, adrenaline coursing through her veins due to your proximity.

“I’m a witch,” she practically croaked out much louder than she ever would have intended. Her eyes blew wide and she slapped her palms over her mouth, practically tripping backward. you stood before her, rightfully confused with your hand still outstretched from where her collar had been. You scowled, then contemplated what she had said as pure panic ran through the young witch. If you didn’t say something soon, she felt like she might cry.

“I’m sorry, but what?” you finally said through exasperated laughter. Agatha slowly removed her hands from her mouth, replacing them over her arms in a hug. She kicked at the dirt below her feet, averting her gaze from yours. She

“I said, I’m a witch,” she repeated, pressing her lips in a fine line as she fought with how to proceed. “I’ve been asking you about witches because I am one, and I wanted to know how you might react if I told you,” she could hear the trembling in her voice and she hated every bit of it. Why had she told you like this? Why had she told you at all? You never really needed to know. She could have kept it to herself and you would have been together forever, but now you would leave her and-

“Aggi, hey, come back to me,” you murmured, your hands cupping either side of her face. She hadn’t even noticed that you approached her, or that the proximity that made her heart race was back. She felt her breath stop as she squeezed her arms around herself, but you didn’t let her shy away from you. “It’s ok, Aggi. Just focus,” you whispered. She took in a deep breath and you felt her relax, which brought back that beautiful smile she adored.

“You're not mad?” she asked, and you couldn’t help frown. You ran your fingertips over her hair and shook your head.

“No. No, of course, I’m not mad,”

“You don’t think I’m some bloodthirsty monster who's going to curse your town and kill your livestock?” she asked again as tears breached her eyelashes. You laughed and stroked her cheek, wiping away her tears as they fell.

“Of course not, Aggi. I’d never think that of you,” you insisted. Her bottom lip trembled as she squeezed her arms around her form. You sighed and pulled her against your front. You'd both long forgotten and dropped the bundles of flowers you had been collecting and they now decorated your feet among the stalks that remained untouched. Agatha began to cry harder into your chest as she clung to the layered fabrics of your dress.

She wasn’t sure how, but you'd managed to lower her and yourself so you were sitting amongst the wide array of wildflowers. From there, you continued to hold her, your fingertips gently combing through her hair as her whimpering subsided. She looked up at your warm face with a trembling breath and somehow, she knew.

She knew that it was you she wanted after all, and when she moved she couldn’t help it. There was no stopping her actions despite the voice telling her to. She sat herself up and her hands moved to cup either side of your face, her thumbs comfortably settling on your cheekbones. You stared into your eyes and then after a quick inhale of air, she moved forward. She snapped her eyes shut and pressed her lips to yours and she marveled in the overwhelming softness and warmth that rushed down her spine.

She would have expected you to pull away, but after a small, muffled sound of surprise, she felt you settle into her new touch. Your fingertips moved farther into her hair, one shifting to the base of her neck to cling to the baby hairs that grew. The gentle tug added to the exhilaration of it all and Agatha thought that she could die right that second and regret nothing.

The squeezing feeling in her chest inevitably became unbearable and she was forced to pull away from you to gasp, but you didn’t stray far, trailing after her as you leaned into her touch. You kissed her nose as she caught her breath, your hands still tangled in her wild hair. She stared into your eyes and saw no malice, no distaste or regret. All of it was just warm. When she thought of warmth, it was you that came to mind, and realizing that made her want to cry all over again.

She looked down at the scattered flowers that you had picked just moments before and selected a bright white one. It had already begun to wilt, but she knew you wouldn’t mind. She glanced back into your eyes, fondly tucking it behind your ear as your smile grew. She heard you laugh and you tugged her forward out of pure excitement, tipping you both over into the flowers as you kissed her all over again.

You broke apart once more and Agatha smiled down at you as she traced your features with her fingertips. She was about to say something when she lost her train of thought. She heard a rustling, but it didn’t sound like it was coming towards you. Rather, it sounded like it was coming from all sides. She looked up and over the flowers as she sat above you, and to her surprise, the flowers had begun to sway with a breeze. The bazaar part of it all, however, was that there was no breeze to feel. Instead, there was the faintest sparkling of blue that danced over the swaying flowers.

“Is that you?” you asked her, sitting up to admire the scene before you both with a bright smile. She turned and shook her head. Your smile wavered into a confused look.

“No, it’s not me,” she stated. You laughed nervously, craning your neck to ensure you were alone.

“Well then, what is it?” you asked, clenching your fists together in the grass. Agatha looked down at your hands and she noticed it, the blue warmth that emitted from your hands. She gingerly reached down in with mesmerized eyes and took your hands while you happened to still be distracted. She squeezed your hands, her thumbs rubbing circled in your palms and she felt that magic that had been pulsing through your veins this whole time. “Agatha, what-” you let out a sudden gasp and instinctively tried to tug your hands away. Agatha held them tighter and you stopped as the blue feeling subsided, melting back into your skin as her thumbs pressed into your palms.

“W-what was that. Agatha, what was that,” you asked frantically with alarm. “Is magic contagious?” She smiled, shaking her head as she issued your hands before letting them go. You took in quick deep breaths and brought your hands too close against your chest, rubbing them together as though you were trying to keep warm.

“I think you might also be a witch,” Agatha murmured after you had relaxed more. You stayed quiet before you laughed. You laughed at how silly that idea had to be. She was kidding you, right? She must be.

“No. No! There is no way I’m a witch,” you assured her, though her expression wasn’t reassuring. “How can I be a witch?” you asked, shaking your head. Agatha scooted forward, pulling you against her shoulder as she rubbed your back.

“Sometimes it’s a rare gene lost in families for generations,” Agatha offered.

“Then how did I only just now find out,” you questioned.

“In some cases, it manifests later than others. I knew I was a witch because my mother was the head of our coven. I grew up surrounded by the culture. But not everyone has that,” she explained. You covered your eyes with your hands as tears began to form. Agatha wrapped her arms around you tighter, kissing your forehead as she rubbed your shoulder in comfort.

“Are they going to hurt me?” you sniffled, referring to your village. “Oh god, they’ll burn me if I find out,” Agatha felt her heart break at the question and shook her head, nudging your head up so you would look at her.

“No one is going to hurt a hair on your head. Not if I have anything to do about it,”

#marvel x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #marvel fandom #marvel universe #wandavision spoilers #wandavision x reader #agatha wandavision #wandavision #wandavision fic #agatha harkness #agatha harkness x y/n #agatha harkness x female reader #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness fanfiction #agatha harkness imagine #agatha harkness salem

[cocobeanncteez]

Ateez Hongjoong: Tame (Final Part)

Genre: Fluff, angst, smut, mafia au.

Pairing: Mafia!Hongjoong x OC (written in 2nd person)

Word Count: 17k in total, 2.2k in this part. (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3)

Warnings for all parts combined: Mafia themes such as torture, abuse, violence, human auctions, murder, drugs, guns. Mentions of rape, human trafficking, sex slavery, organ trafficking, unprotected sex, pulling out, facesitting.

“What are you guys up to?” you questioned, plopping down on the couch beside Wooyoung. Yunho, Jongho, and San were seated on the opposite couch.

“Just talking about one of our hostages who we will kill tonight,” Yunho replied while playing with a rubik's cube.

“What did they do?” you asked.

“He tried to sabotage our latest drug deal with a secret dealer from Russia. We didn’t know how he found out about it, but he spilled the beans on his gang,” San answered. “So we don’t need him anymore.”

“Well… rest in peace, I guess,” you remarked, making Wooyoung snort.

“Would’ve been better if we killed Yang Daeyoung instead.”

You turned to look at him. “Who exactly is he? I’ve heard his name a few times, but I’ve never gotten the opportunity to ask.”

Jongho gently cleared his throat. “He’s the man who raped and murdered Hongjoong’s sister. Him and three of his men. He wasn’t from a very powerful gang or anything, but he does his work extremely well. He wanted to take us down, and he used Hongjoong’s sister as bait to trap him. Hongjoong refused to give up on Ateez. By the time we managed to track Hongjoong, the damage was already done.” You felt your heart break; you couldn’t even imagine what your boyfriend had to go through.

“Where is Yang Daeyoung now?” you asked.

“Rotting in our torture chamber as we speak.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “What?! Why haven’t you killed him yet?”

“We are looking for his child,” Hongjoong replied, joining the conversation. “The man has over five trillion won kept in a secret bank account. He also has information, good and bad, on every mafia gang and the corrupted politicians and locals involved. That’s why all gangs are still on the lookout for him even though we captured him eight months ago. He has a secret place somewhere in the world and only his child can access his possessions as he used iris pattern recognition. He has covered up everything though. We can’t find shit on any of his family members.”

“No amount of threatening or torturing works on him. We even told him that we’ll find his child and torture them,” Jongho added. “But he won’t reveal anything to us.”

“Maybe I can try?” you suggested. You did learn how to torture someone for information, but it wasn’t something you really enjoyed.

“Your chances are extremely low,” Wooyoung remarked.

“I’m aware of that. But even a little information could be helpful, right?”

“Go ahead then, sweetheart,” Hongjoong said with a smirk. “I’d love to see my girl torture that filthy bastard.”

You pecked his lips. “Then let’s go now, shall we?”

You made your way to the torture room, Hongjoong, Jongho, and Wooyoung following you. Seonghwa joined you after finishing his work in the interrogation room, satisfied with how much information he was able to obtain. Jongho entered a passcode for one of the rooms, letting everyone inside.

The room was pretty dark and looked like a jail cell. You saw a plate of untouched food on the floor. There was a chair in the middle of the room and a cot at the end of the room where Yang Daeyoung was sleeping, his back facing you all, long chains attached from his hands to a pipe.

Wooyoung moved to the sleeping form, giving the man a kick on his back to wake him up. “Get up, fucker.”

Yang Daeyoung groaned in pain before sitting up, looking at the faces of everyone in the room. As soon as you made eye contact with the man, your heart dropped to your stomach.

His eyes widened. “Kiah?! What are you doing here?!”

The boys immediately turned to look at you. You weren’t able to utter a word due to how shocked you were at seeing your own father there. His hair was quite long and he had a long beard and moustache. There were a few scars on his face and arms.

“How do you know her?” Hongjoong interrogated.

“Run from here, Kiah! They’re gonna kill you,” your father yelled at you.

“Do you know him?” Seonghwa asked you, but you weren’t able to answer. You felt sick. You felt terribly sick that it was your father who raped and murdered your lover's sister.

Tears rolled down your eyes when you glanced at your boyfriend. How could you ever face him now?

“Kiah!” your father yelled, tugging hard on the chains, grabbing your attention. “Get out of here! They’re gonna torture you in front my eyes! They said they will find you and torture you!”

Hongjoong looked at you with an emotionless expression, finally understanding the situation. “You’re his daughter?” You couldn’t respond.

“Are you this bastard's daughter?!” he yelled at you. Before you could answer him, he rushed out of the room. You couldn’t help but cry, burying your face in your hands, feeling your heart ache.

Your father glared at you angrily. “Why are you involved with Ateez?! What is wrong with—"

“Shut up!” you shouted, cutting him off. “You’re fucking pathetic! How could you r-rape someone when you have a daughter?! How could you lie to me all these years that you’re a cop, when you’re nothing but a heartless monster!” you sobbed loudly, collapsing onto the floor. You felt someone kneel beside you, wrapping their arms around you.

“Get away from her, Park Seonghwa!” your father spat.

Seonghwa turned to glare at him. “Shut it,” he said, before helping you stand up, taking you to your room.

You blankly stared at the window of your room from your bed, watching the horizon darker as night was approaching. It has been four days since you last saw Hongjoong. You felt nothing but emptiness and agony. You didn’t know if he was at the mansion or if he went somewhere as you haven’t left your room at all ever since Seonghwa brought you to it. The girls tried to make you eat, but you barely had the appetite to.

You sighed, forcing yourself to get out of bed to take a shower even though you were going to crawl right back into it.

Stripping out of your clothes and entering the shower, you pushed the tap, letting the warm water soak you. Closing your eyes, you could feel a dull ache in your chest when you began to think of Hongjoong. A sob got stuck in your throat, but escaped a few seconds later. You couldn’t hold it back anymore. You sat down, hugging your propped up knees. Your sobs got louder, and your throat was aching, tears mixing with the water running down your face.

After spending a few minutes crying until you couldn’t anymore, you finally washed your body and your hair.

Stepping out of the shower, you wrapped a towel around your body and another one for your hair. You exited the bathroom after putting some clothes on, having no strength to dry your hair with a blow-dryer. You stopped in your tracks when you noticed a figure seated on your bed.

“I'm sorry…” Hongjoong apologized, getting off your bed and moving towards you. He stood in front of you with a pained expression on his beautiful face. You wondered how long he was waiting for you and you really hoped he didn’t hear you cry. Even if he didn’t, he could still tell you were crying as your red, puffy eyes gave it away.

“F-For what?” you stuttered, voice shaky.

Hongjoong sighed, looking down at his feet.  “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I shouldn’t have left you alone when you were going through much worse. It was a shock for you too…”

Your eyes filled with tears. “I understand why you did it. It’s okay…”

He shook his head. “No, it’s not okay, baby. I’m ashamed of how I acted. You didn’t deserve that.”

You blinked, causing the tears brimming at your eyes to slide down your cheeks. Hongjoong reached up to cup your cheeks, gently wiping your tears away with his thumbs. He placed a gentle, lingering kiss on your forehead. “I’m so sorry.”

You closed your eyes, shaking your head in his hold. You pulled away from him, taking a deep breath. “Hongjoong, I-I think it’s best if we end things.” His eyes widened, heart aching due to your words. He opened his mouth to say something, but you spoke before he could. “I’m the daughter of the man who raped and murdered your sister, Hongjoong. I-I can’t…” you paused, sobs taking over. “I can’t live with that fact. I can’t look at you without thinking about it.”

“I don’t care, Kiah,” he reached out to hold your hands, his own eyes filling with tears. “I love you. Do you understand? I fucking love you. Yes, I was furious when I found out that you were the daughter of that bastard, but you shouldn’t have to suffer because of him. You didn’t even know what he does for a living. It’s not your problem.”

You sniffled. “You don’t h-hate me?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“Baby…” he sighed, pulling you into a hug, his own tears rolling down his beautiful face. “I could never hate you. Never. You’re the love of my life. Fuck, I can’t even live without you. These past four days… I felt like I was gonna go insane if I didn’t see you, but I had to give you some space.” You didn’t know what to say.

“There's no me without you,” he continued, gently pushing you away so that he could see your face. “So please… never try to break up with me again. I’d rather die than live without you,” he cried. You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his chest while you both cried together. Hongjoong placed soft kisses onto your head, trying to calm himself and you down.

When your sobs stopped, he gently pushed you away so that he could look at your face. He cupped your cheek, titling your head back before he leaned in, capturing your lips with his own in a soft kiss.

He pulled away, resting his forehead against you. “I love you,” he murmured.

You smile slightly. “I love you more.”

Epilogue

 “Oh my god! We’re finally here!” Jiwoo squealed, running on the cooling sand. Ateez managed to find out the location of your father's secret hideout in Fiji with the help of Yeosang who used your iris pattern to track the computer. Ateez managed to receive all your father’s possessions and now you all had flown across Fiji for a mini vacation.

“Jiwoo's dream destination is Fiji and now we’re here,” San said, watching his girlfriend with love and adoration. You chuckled, watching San run after Jiwoo to join her little hyper session.

“We’re gonna go rest for a while,” Seonghwa stated, holding Aeji's hand.

Wooyoung smirked. “I know what that means,” he said, earning a smack on his head from the older man before the couple went to their beach house in the chain of houses.

Hongjoong took your hand in his, intertwining it. “We’re gonna rest too. See you all for dinner,” he said, dragging you along to your little beach house.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence, sandals leaving prints on the sand, observing the various hues of orange, red, blue, and purple in the beautiful sky as the sun was setting. Hongjoong let go of your hand when you reached your beach house, pausing in his tracks. You gave him a questioning look, wondering why he wasn’t going inside.

He cleared his throat, moving his hands to wrap around your waist. “You’re the only one who could tame my temper, as the boys always say," he started, making you giggle. “The only one who could make my heart beat so fast. I’ve never wanted anything more in life than to be with you. You aren’t just my girlfriend, you’re my best friend and the love of my life. But now I’d like to change that,” he reached into his pocket, taking out a small velvet box.

Hongjoong got down on one knee, and you gasped, realizing what was about to happen. “I’d like to be upgraded from your boyfriend to your fiancé.” You chuckle at that and he opened the box, revealing a beautiful oval-shaped diamond ring.

“Moon Kiah, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

“Yes!” you squealed, face beaming with happiness. Hongjoong took your hand in his, sliding the ring onto your finger. He got up and you pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. When you pulled away, he grinned before placing a soft kiss on your lips. “I love you. Thank you for bringing light to my life.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck. “I love you too, Joong. So much.” Hongjoong chuckled, pulling you into a sweet kiss.

You couldn’t wait for this new chapter in your life, spending it with Hongjoong by your side for the rest of eternity.

#ateez #ateez mafia au #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez angst #ateez fluff #ateez smut #ateez mafia imagines #ateez reactions #Hongjoong #ateez kim hongjoong #kim hongjoong #san #seonghwa #yeosang #choi san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #yunho #jeong yunho #kang yeosang #song mingi #choi jongho #park seonghwa #mafia ateez #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfics #ateez hongjoong imagines #Hongjoong smut

[jaeminlore]

Landslide | Mark Lee

summary: time makes you bolder. even children get older, and i’m getting older too.

words: 7.1k+

category: teacher!mark, single parent!reader, fem!presenting!reader, graham is the sweetest kid, mark is that teacher that lets kids pick earthworms during recess, friends to lovers, mark’s apartment is flooded so now he has to live in domestic bliss with his secret crush oh nooooo

warnings: talk of absent fathers

author note: it’s my birthday tomorrow so i wanted to give u all a present for supporting me for so long!! here’s to you <3 (cross-posted on /honklore)

Mark helps one of his kids press their palms onto the wall. When they release their palm, pink paint remains, making a sort of leaf to the tree branches painted onto the wall.

“Now write your name,” Mark advises another kid, whose orange paint had already dried.

“G-R-A-H-A-M,” the boy writes out with a large permanent marker. “Can I take a picture? For my mom?”

All the rest of the children begin to shout their agreements, also wanting to bring home a picture for their parents. Mark grabs his yellow Polaroid camera and takes a picture of each handprint.

He keeps all of the pictures in the chest pocket of his denim jacket. “Okay, guys— to the sink! Whoever has the cleanest hands gets to help me pass out snacks!”

“Why are we having snack time so early?” It’s Graham that asks, the little one always eager to be around Mark.

Mark ignores the boy’s paint covered hands poking at his clean jacket, and answers him as politely as he can. “Mr. Lee forgot his lesson plans today, so we’re going to watch a movie instead.”

“A movie?” Graham’s eyes widen.

“Yep,” Mark giggles. He crouches down to Graham’s level and whispers, “You wanna pick it?”

“Nature Nut!” Graham cheers almost immediately, causing Mark to wince.

Ah, yes, the wonderful little DVDs of a lonesome man teaching the watcher about bugs and weird types of slugs. Mark actually has the entire collection, and Graham happens to adore them just as much as Mark did when he was a kid.

“Alright, go wash your hands and I’ll get it started.”

It’s a little girl named Hana who cleans her hands the best, so she passes out organic fruit gummies to everyone while Mark puts in the DVD.

While they watch the video, Mark checks his text messages.

There’s one from Taeyong: “I’ve already got Haechan on the couch. Sorry, man. You can have the floor, but it’s not gonna be comfy :(“

Right. Mark forgot that Haechan lives in the same complex as him. His apartment is probably just as flooded as Mark’s is. Now if the landlord would just answer his calls and help him... maybe this situation wouldn’t be so stressful.

Mark didn’t forget his lesson plans; they’re just submerged in his bedroom with everything else Mark has left lying on his carpet. And maybe it’s his fault for not buying more storage bins, but a studio apartment can only hold so much stuff.

Serves Mark right for doing his lesson plans at home instead of at the school like most of his fellow kindergarten teachers.

He lets out a quiet sigh, careful not to disturb the children. He only has a short list of friends left to ask, and while he doesn’t think they’ll mind him asking, he really hates to put anyone in that position.

Besides, most of his friends have roommates or significant others and Mark doesn’t want to ruin their routine. He’d hate to intrude. And he could always sleep in his car for a few days, but the amount of stuff he had to pack because of the flooding has barred any chance of a good night’s sleep.

The video ends, and Mark gets the kids seated with coloring pages until their parents arrive.

One by one, he I.Ds the parents and tells the kids goodbye, helping them put on their coats and take home whatever library book they picked out earlier.

Finally, there’s only one kid left, and Mark is a bit embarrassed of his hyper-awareness to Graham. It’s not even his fault, really. Graham just has a beautiful mom, who happens to be Mark’s beautiful friend, and sometimes Mark gets eager to see you during pickup time.

Whatever. It’s no big deal.

The kindergartener already has his coat on. His curly brown hair is almost unruly as he continues to work on his coloring sheet.

Mark pulls at the hem of his sage sweater sleeves and wonders if his hair looks okay. Maybe he should invest in a little desk mirror; or maybe that’s vain.

“Hey, Mark! Sorry I’m late!” You rush in, holding on to your leather messenger bag. You fix your glasses before they fall off the bridge of your nose, and Mark is so focused on the movement that he almost forgets about your child.

Until said child is scolding his mother. “Mom! You have to call him Mr. Lee! It’s rude to call him Mark!”

“Your mom is an adult,” Mark reminds Graham (as soon as he finds his voice.) “Since she isn’t a student, it’s okay for her to call me Mark.”

Graham pinches his lips together, and then shrugs. “Fine. Mom, we watched Nature Nut today.” He runs up to you and wraps his arm around your middle. “Can we go to the park and look for slugs?”

“Sure,” you giggle. “But we need to get home soon, okay, Bud? I have to make dinner and then we have to clean up the mess we made last night.”

Graham turns to Mark and smiles naughtily, like the trickster he often is. “Mom said I could tear up her papers last night. She said it’s There-pee.”

“Ther-a-py,” you emphasize for the five-year-old.

Mark studies your face, and he can tell that you seem a little more stressed than usual. “Therapy, huh?”

You smile sheepishly. “Well, when your son catches you tearing up old love notes, you have to let him in on the fun, right?”

“You are a team,” Mark acknowledges. He wants to ask more; wants to dig into your heart and extract whatever is hurting you, but your son is standing between the two of you, waiting for him to say goodbye. Mark clears his throat and picks at his sweater again. “Anyways, uh, text me tonight? Let me know you two got home safe. And, I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” you breathe. You smile at him and then take Graham’s hand. “Thanks, Mark. I’ll text you.”

Mark spends the night at a motel down the road. He texts a few of his friends and hopes for good news in the morning, or at least a confirmation from his landlord.

When you text him, a little selfie of you and Graham, holding up what looks like microwaved s’mores, his heart grows fond, and he forgets about his own problems for a moment.

-

Life has never been very easy for you. From the get-go, you have always been destined to fail, growing up with an absent father and an overworked mother. With a dead-end dream like yours (writing, of all things), it’s no wonder you clung to what little breaths of freedom you had.

He was handsome and bold, with a carefree smile and brown eyes that mirrored the sun. The lead singer of a band, with a voice like chimes. And you fell just as hard as one of your many protagonists. Perhaps the mistake always lay in the fact that you put too much fantasy into reality. You have always romanticized the littlest things, and that comes back to bite you more often than not.

You never expected one: to get pregnant your senior year of high school, and two: have to go through it alone.

Of course, most people you come to love leave eventually. It’s something you have always remembered; something that sticks in the back of your brain like gum to the bottom of your child’s Spider-man skechers.

Graham is the only constant in your life. Though you’ve been blessed with a decent job editing for a webazine company, and you can work from home more often than not, Graham is the real thing that keeps you alive.

He’s the most precious boy, with brown curls and big brown eyes. He favors his father, and though that should deter you, it reminds you of innocent days, and it gives a new meaning to brown eyes. Graham is not his father, and he never was.

Graham certainly got his love of learning from you. Though he likes science more than writing, you adore how eager he is to always get to school. It helps that Mark is his teacher.

Mark’s been your friend since freshman year of highschool, when the two of you both took the same creative writing class the local university offered. Though the two of you had differing end goals, you often studied together and encouraged each other. He was there when you found out you were pregnant, and he was there when you found out you’d be raising your child alone.

Now life comes full circle, and you see him twice a day. You could go out on a limb and say he brightens up most mornings, but you would still give that slot to your son.

Mark is standing at the doorway now, greeting all of his students and helping them take off their book bags and coats. He’s wearing monochrome today: red pants, a red sweater, and red shoes.

Graham lights up almost immediately, and you are thankful today that you decided to dress Graham in his red t-shirt. “Mom! We match!”

“I know,” you grin, squeezing his hand.

Mark glances at Graham, and then you. His cheeks showcase that same pink hue they always do, and while it should clash with his red garments, it doesn’t. “Hey, Mark.”

“Hey,” he grins, cheeks full at the sight of you two.

Graham spreads his arms and waits for Mark to help him take off his jacket. “Do you see that we match, Mr. Lee?”

“Yo, that’s awesome, Little Man!” Mark gives Graham a fist bump that seems to appease him, and you wait for Graham to run to his friends before addressing Mark.

“How have you been?”

Mark sighs. He brushes his hair away from his eyes. “Okay. My- uh- my studio apartment flooded so I’m staying at a motel until my landlord can get me estimates on when I can come back home.”

“That sucks,” you frown. “You know, if you need a place to stay, I have a pullout couch in my office. And obviously, Graham wouldn’t mind.”

Mark pales. “Are you serious? I didn’t mean to suggest anything, Like I know you work from home and you need your office.”

“And you’ll be at school until three,” you say. “I’ll work then. C’mon, Mark. I don’t like knowing one of my friends has no place to stay.”

Mark bites his bottom lip and scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll drive over after I check out of the motel.”

“Great!” You smile. “I’ll order pizza.”

-

"Graham, clean your room," you say, struggling to push your desk against your office wall. "We're going to have a guest for a few weeks."

"Mom," Graham whines, "They aren't going to look in my room."

You begin to take the cushions out of the spare couch to start setting up the pull-out bed. "Mr. Lee is coming over, Graham.  Don't you want to show him your collections?"

Graham's brown eyes grow wide. "Mr. Lee? You didn't tell me he was coming!"

"He's going to be staying with us for a little bit, okay? So I need you to be on your best behavior."

“Can I show him my worms?” Graham asks, alluding to the compost bin in the small backyard of your townhouse.

“Yes,” you say, thankful that he isn’t putting up much of a fight toward cleaning. You’re also thankful he isn’t asking any questions, as Graham always seems to have a few at the top of his tongue.

Graham cleans up his room quickly. You know for a fact that he’s just shoved all of his toys under his bed, but it’s enough until the weekend, when you’ll have more time to help him organize.

The little guy hoards rocks like no one’s business. You curse the day Mark decided to teach the kids about geodes.

“Wanna help me make up Mr. Lee’s room?” You half-yell, while grabbing spare bedding out of your linen closet.

Graham’s little footsteps are heard before he answers, and soon he’s at your hip with a quick, “He can have my Frozen pillowcase!”

You hesitate to tell Graham that his Frozen pillowcase is currently on one of your pillows, and you can’t give your guest a dirty pillowcase. “That one is in the wash, Buddy. Why don’t we give him your Spider-Man one?”

“So he matches my pajamas!” Graham is easily pleased, and he even takes one of his stuffed bears to add to Mark’s made-up bed. (“So he doesn’t get scared at night.”)

By the time the pizza arrives, Mark is just behind, so you keep Graham busy with a slice of cheese and a glass of diet pepsi (only half of a can, and only because it’s a special occasion) while the two of you bring in Mark’s stuff.

He surprisingly didn’t bring much, and when you ask about it, he grimaces. “My studio is pretty small so a lot of my stuff was on the ground and got mildewed. Other stuff was in bins so I just left it there. I only need clothes and my lesson plans, anyway.”

“Well, here’s the desk and bed. It’s not much, but there’s a lock on the door in case Graham ever gets too inquisitive — bless him — and curtains so the stupidly bright sun won’t wake you too early.”

“Those both sound like personal experiences, Y/n,” Mark teases. He takes off his jacket and throws it on the bed. “Yo! Spider-Man?”

“Graham picked it out,” you say. “He also relinquished one of his bears to keep you safe in the middle of the night. His words, not mine.”

“He’s so cute,” Mark mentions offhandedly. The fondness in his tone takes you back a bit. Not because the phrase isn’t true, it’s just that most people find your son annoying before they find him endearing. The change of tone is nice.

“He is,” you say. “And he’s dying to show you his room after we eat dinner.”

Mark gives you that same lopsided smile he often had in high school. Part of your brain shifts to his personal life, and you wonder why Mark himself isn’t in a romantic relationship. Not that he has to be, but the both of you are getting older, and Mark has always been one to express a fondness for having his own family one day. Maybe he just hasn’t found the right person.

It isn’t until Graham is peacefully in bed — after a very chaotic reading of Goodnight Moon by yours truly, and an argument that Mr. Lee cannot, in fact, sleep in the same room as him — that you actually have a chance to show Mark around the house.

“Here’s the guest bathroom. Graham almost always uses the bathroom in my room because he likes looking at the big tub. He will beg you to play with him, but if you’re busy don’t feel guilty telling him no. He knows what no means and he’s good about playing by himself.”

Mark giggles. “Okay. I don’t mind playing with him, though.“

You show him around the kitchen, where you left little spaces for him in the pantry. You show him the garbage bags and the T.V. settings and the list of compostable ingredients. “And also, please come and go as you please. Like, I completely understand that you’re here temporarily and you aren’t a babysitter or anything like that. I don’t expect you to be in charge of Graham any time outside of school.”

Mark blinks. “But if you ever need time away, you can ask me. I don’t mind babysitting.”

“I know,” you smile. “But Graham is my kid. I don’t need time away from him.”

You’re lying. Mark knows it. You’ve been in this single parenting thing for five years and you aren’t about to reach out for help now.

“Anyways, if you have any questions just ring me or ask me,” you say. “I’ve got to get to bed. Goodnight.”

“Thanks, Y/n.”

-

Mark thinks it’s sweet the way Graham insists on making his own breakfast.

You’re already up when Mark gets out of his (temporary) bedroom with his clothes tucked under his arm. You’re busy arguing with Graham. “You can’t fry your own omelette for the last time.”

Mark quirks an eyebrow at your exasperated face. You look stressed beyond belief, even though the day has just begun.

Mark tosses his clothes back in his room and walks into the kitchen. “Hey, Graham! Do you want to show me your rock collection?”

Graham spins on his sock-clad heels, eyes bright at the thought of seeing his teacher. “Mr. Lee! Yes! Let’s go!”

He grabs Mark’s hand with ease, leaving you room to finish making breakfast.

Graham’s room is fairly simple. The small wooden bed is covered in a green quilt, and beneath that, frozen-printed sheets that certainly don’t match. He has a tub of stuffed animals shoved against a small dresser.

Mark gets distracted by the framed picture on top of the dresser. It’s a picture of you and Graham’s father, a few months before you got pregnant. He’s smiling, and you’re holding up a peace sign. It makes Mark feel a bit sad, knowing that Graham’s dad never stayed around to see how wonderful he turned out to be. Then again, a lot of people in your life left as soon as they found out. In high school, no one wants to be friends with a teenage mother.

Mark reckons that if he had a family like this, he’d never take them for granted.

Graham pulls out a gemstone. It’s a murky green one that Mark has let him take home from class. “Do you remember this, Mr. Lee?”

Mark grins. “Yeah, bud. Thanks for keeping it so safe for me.”

Graham beams. He grabs Mark’s hand and pulls him towards his dresser. “Can we match? I want to look like you.”

Mark feels his heart swell. He wants to smother the young boy in affection, but he doesn’t want to cross a line. He’s your friend, sure, but he’s also Graham’s teacher. He can’t coddle Graham more than the other children. He already has a godchild to coddle. “I’m wearing yellow today. Do you have any yellow clothes?”

“Let’s look!” Graham yanks open one of the drawers and begins pulling out the articles of clothing one by one. “No, no, no... Here!” He finds a pair of yellow overalls, folded amongst the mess he made. “I’ll wear these!”

“Let’s clean up first, okay?” Mark grabs the overalls. “So it’s clean when you come home from school.”

Graham, looking like the last thing he’d ever want to do is disappoint Mark, begins to pick up each shirt with obvious intent. He tries to fold them, and does a somewhat decent job, so much so that Mark leaves it, thinking you’ll find it endearing rather than annoying.

He really loves that about you. He likes your patience with Graham. You’re so young, and in reality, he squashed so many early dreams of yours. No matter your lot in life, you never blamed your child. Mark thinks that’s why Graham is so open, so adaptable, so endearing.

He helps Graham get dressed and leaves him in his room so that he, himself, can get ready.

When he emerges from his shower, hair wet and clothed in yellow, he smells something amazing.

He doesn’t want to intrude on your morning with Graham. He already feels too indebted to you already.

“Have an omelet,” you say. Wisps of hair cover your face. You place a plate down in front of him.

Graham is already eating his omelet, slowly, while flipping through a picture book. He sounds out words he recognizes, but stays silent the rest of the time.

Mark takes out his phone and scrolls through his instagram feed just as your own phone begins to ring.

“Shit,” you curse, and then immediately apologize to Graham. You press the red button and tap anxiously on the tabletop.

“Everything okay?” Mark asks.

You run your hands over your hair and let them rest on the back of your neck. “Yeah is just—“

The phone rings again, and this time you pick it up. “What do you want? ... Why would you tell me that? ... Why should I care? ... Please stop contacting me, okay? Goodbye.”

You slam the phone down and leave the room. Mark watches you disappear down the hallway, sniffling.

“Mommy is upset,” Graham says. He looks at Mark, lip quivering. “At me?”

“No, Buddy! Of course not!” Mark reaches over the table to ruffle Graham’s curls. “Never at you.”

“When we tore up paper, she was crying.” Graham fiddles with his book page.

Mark wonders why your ex’s actions are being brought up five years later. Last he heard, you had fully healed from the breakup long before Graham’s first birthday. But now he’s about to be six, and you're suddenly upset?

He’ll have to ask you about it soon.

“Are you ready to go to school, Buddy?”

“Yeah!”

-

You cradle your face in your hands and try to ease the tears back in. You’ll never get this article proofread and sent if you can’t see the keys.

The door opens, and Graham runs in just in time for you to finish wiping your eyes. “Hey, kiddo! How was school?”

“Mr. Lee let us finger paint!” Graham holds up his palm, covered in dried paint, and grins brightly. “Can I have gogurt?”

“Yeah bud. Why don’t you put something on the T.V.? You can have your snack in the living room today.”

“Yes!” Graham takes blueberry gogurt out of the fridge and — after getting you to tear it open — runs into the living room. Sneakers and backpack still on.

Mark trails behind, clutching a messenger bag to his chest. “What’s going on?”

You sigh and close the laptop. The manuscript will have to wait. “Ben called. About a week ago. His girlfriend is pregnant. Called me to tell me he wasn’t going to leave her— like that would heal what he did to me. Then he called this morning to tell me they’re engaged.” You burst into tears then, and you feel so pathetic for doing this in front of your old schoolmate, that you hide your face behind your palms and allow your shoulders to shake. “Why weren’t we enough? Why wasn’t I enough?”

Mark scoots one of the chairs in front of you and sits, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Hey. Look at me.” With gentle hands, he grabs your wrists and pulls them away from your face. “It is not your fault he left.”

“But it has to be me in some way,” you retort. “He must not have loved me. Something, because now he’s going to raise her child after he left mine. Graham deserves a dad.”

Mark places his forehead against yours. The two of you used to do it all the time in school, mostly with immature giggles in the spaces between, but now it’s heavy with intention. “Graham has not felt even a little bit unloved in your care. You are all he needs, okay? You’re amazing.”

You nod, head still pressed to Mark’s. “Yeah. Okay. Sorry for getting too emotional, there.”

“Be as emotional as you want,” Mark says. “I’ll be here to balance you out.”

Your heart stutters at the words, like maybe they mean something more than he’s letting on. Of course it’s stupid to think Mark Lee would ever even consider you, but just the knowledge that he cares makes your soul feel a little lighter.

“I’m a mess,” you stutter, bringing your fist up to wipe at your nose.

“Nah,” Mark grins. He runs the pad of his thumb across your cheek and grins. “You’re alright.”

-

“It’s snowing!” Graham wakes Mark up by jumping on his chest.

Mark sucks in a breath, winded at the sudden weight, and grabs the boy, lifting him off of his chest and onto the mattress. “Hey, Buddy. Let’s not jump on sleeping people, okay?”

“Okay,” Graham says. He’s already lost interest in Mark, now crawling off of the bed to open the blinds. “Come look at the snow!”

“I see!” Mark rubs his tired eyes and checks his watch. “We might have a snow day, Graham.”

“Yes!” Graham pumps his fist into the air. “Let’s go tell mom!”

You’re sitting on your bed, chewing on a red licorice rope and flipping through a fashion magazine. You look up when Mark and Graham enter.

Mark likes seeing you like this: the domesticity of you in the morning, lazy and true. His chest sparks when he thinks this may be one of the only moments he can capture you like this, so he intends to commit the sight to memory.

“Did I hear snow day?” You grin at Mark, childlike wit in your own eyes — the same as your son’s.

“Looks like it.” Mark rolls up the sleeves of the sweater he slept in. “You want pancakes? I make some mean chocolate chip pancakes.”

You shift your gaze away from his arms and clear your throat. “Uh, yeah. Just let me get dressed and I’ll help—“

“No need,” Mark insists. “Enjoy your quiet time. Graham and I will make the most delicious pancakes you’ve ever tasted.”

“With lots of chocolate chips!” Graham shouts.

You give him a pointed look. “But not too many.”

Graham huffs. “But not too many,” he repeats.

-

Momentary splashes sound from your bathroom, followed by Graham screaming “It’s a dragon! Run for cover!”

Mark giggles from his place on the couch. He’s got mushroom-patterned socks on, and he’s tucked up into the cushions, nursing a can of Monster. “How does he still have so much energy?”

You sigh and pull your beanie down over your forehead. “You’d think a snow day would tire him out. Thanks for constantly carrying him up the hill, by the way. I know you’re a teacher, but sometimes I forget how good you are with kids.”

“I do have a godson,” Mark reminds you.

“But Mikey is a baby,” you say. You only know the baby’s name because of Mark’s constant snap stories about him.

“Most babies and kids want the same thing. Affection and attention.” Mark scoots over to the edge of the couch and pats the cushion.

You sit next to him. “I guess that’s true. You’re really good with Graham. He’s not this open to other adults.”

Mark is clearly blushing now; you can see his pink cheeks even in the light of the television. “He’s great in class, always helping the other kids.”

“He wants to impress you,” you say. You pop open a can of orange soda and take a sip. “He thinks you’re just the coolest guy.”

Mark laughs and shakes his head. “Didn’t you hear, Y/n? I’m handsome and cool.”

“Oh, of course,” you nudge his shin with our own sock-clad foot. “How could I forget? Mr. Ladies Man in high school.”

This makes Mark blush even harder, because he most certainly was not a ladies man in high school. In fact, he was a nerd in all senses of the word, part of the debate club with a few other boys. He had a few dates here and there, but nothing ever stuck.

“Shut up,” he mumbles. “My time is gonna come.”

“Hasn’t it already?” you ask before you can really process your own words. But of course he knows that he’s grown into his face, right?

Mark is positively handsome, eyes bright and lashes long. He’s so warm and comforting to you. He must be just as comforting to everyone else.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re handsome, Mark,” you say plainly.

“You mean that?”

“Of course I do,” you say. “Why would I lie?”

Mark opens his mouth, perhaps to call you out. To tell you you’ve been too honest, but he’s interrupted by your son.

“Mom! I’m ready to get out now!”

“I should go,” you say, still looking at his eyes.

“Yeah,” he says. His sweater has small spots on the shoulders where snow has fallen and since melted. He shivers.

“You should take a shower. You’ll catch a cold.”

“Okay,” he whispers. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

-

Haechan comes over the following Saturday night to hang out with Mark, and you’re surprised at how much he truly hasn’t changed since high school.

He’s still got infamously perfect eyebrows, and his voice is still high despite its blunt sarcasm. “Nice place.” He raises his brows as he looks around.

“Who are you?” Graham is sitting at the kitchen table, watching Minecraft playthroughs (kid-friendly ones you’ve watched through yourself) on your phone to entertain himself while you clean.

“I’m Haechan, Mark’s friend.”

“This is Mr. Lee’s friend from school,” you say, detailing your words so they’re easier for your son to digest.

Graham stares at him for a moment, not quite judging but not quite accepting either. “Okay. Do you want to see my rock collection?”

Haechan looks genuinely excited, and accepts before you can come up with an excuse for him. Graham tells Haechan to stay in the kitchen while he grabs all of his rocks.

“How have you been?” you ask the taller man. “Like, with the flooding and everything?”

“Well, I’m on a couch at Taeyong’s, which is good since he doesn’t charge rent. But that means I’m near Mikey, and that baby has some lungs.”

You laugh. “I remember when Graham was a baby. I was so young, and my mom told me it was my responsibility to wake up and take care of him whenever he cried in the middle of the night. I was so pissed at her for making me do that, but those were some of the best nights to bond with him.” You realize you’re rambling and shake your head. “Whatever. Baby screams are loud as hell.”

“You can say that again. I’ve been talking to my friend Johnny about taking his spare room and paying rent. I dunno how many more sleepless nights I can take.”

“Why would you need to pay rent if you’re just crashing?” You wipe down the kitchen table to keep yourself busy.

“Didn’t Mark tell you? Our landlord is in heaps of trouble because the pipes weren’t up to code and that’s why they busted. The damage is basically too expensive to fix, so we’ve got to find new places.”

You stop cleaning. “Mark didn’t tell me that.”

“Oh.” Haechan scratches his brow. “He probably didn’t want to worry you. He feels really bad that he’s stayed with you this long.”

“It’s only been a month or so,” you counter. “Besides, Mark’s a great housemate. He cleans and keeps Graham occupied. Plus, now I have someone to watch corny game shows with.”

Haechan grins. “Oh. Okay, I get it.”

“Get what?” Mark, finally out of the shower, steps into the kitchen and immediately tackles Haechan in an energized hug.

“Nothing!” Haechan’s voice cracks

You shoot Haechan a weird look, and change the subject. “Where are you guys going?”

“To play video games at Johnny’s.” Mark says, and the thrill in his voice makes you think of high school. Of the debate team bus rounding the corner. Of you standing there, waiting to congratulate him with a big hug and a frosty from Wendy’s.

You miss it. “Have fun, okay? I’m probably going to tuck in as soon as Graham does, so just let yourself in.”

“You’re leaving?” Graham comes in, and his arms are filled with smooth and rough stones and gems he’s both found by himself and bought at random general stores while traveling.

“Not before I see your rocks!” Haechan says with so much enthusiasm, you think he’s telling the truth.

Graham giggles and drops the rocks onto the ground. Of course, he wants your guest to sit on the floor and count rocks. You’re almost embarrassed.

“ ‘ Okay, Y/n?” Mark laughs at your expression. Then he places his arm on your shoulder, thumbs the skin of your upper arm.

And once again, it’s high school. It’s senior year graduation and Mark is the only one who congratulates you. It’s his comforting touch, him coming over in the middle of the night after you texted him a picture of your first sonogram. It’s that same comforting touch. That little “I’m here,” and it melts you on the inside, leaves you in the shell of an eighteen girl again. Scared, and worried, and a little less alone.

“Yeah,” you manage. “I’m okay.”

-

The television plays Cartoon Network reruns on a low hum. Mark is curled up in a blanket, nursing a bottle of water and thinking over Haechan’s words.

You’ve liked her since high school, dude.

Which is a complete lie. Seriously, Mark didn’t have a crush on you in high school. He would know if he had a crush on his best friend. You’ve been his friend since freshman year, and that’s all you’ve ever been.

Now in college, it was different. In college, Mark was alone in a dorm with Taeyong, and you were one of the only people from high school he stayed in contact with. In college, he would bring you your favorite snacks and drinks, and other things you would forget to buy because you were a part-time student and a full-time mom. In college, you would pull all-nighters with him, working on your exams while Graham was asleep, then using energy drinks to get through the next day.

Mark even remembers the time your mom caught the three of you fast asleep on your rug, with unopened monster cans and an empty milk bottle beside you.

Throughout your entire pregnancy he was warned not to stay friends with the pregnant girl — it’d be too much for him, he wouldn’t want to become the new father, and all kinds of other stuff people would mumble to him when you weren’t around.

But you never expected him to be anything other than your friend. You never asked him for the help he gave — though you thanked him always — and you never once assumed he’d take the role of Graham’s dad.

And now… now he finds himself wishing you would.

“Mr. Lee?” Graham creeps up without him even realizing.

Mark jumps, sets his water — and thoughts — aside. “Hey, Bud. It’s really late. What are you doing up?”

Graham sniffs, and Mark realizes that the boy is crying. “I had a nightmare.”

Mark holds out his arms before he can think, and lets the five-year-old crawl into his lap. He wraps them both in his blanket and turns the television up just a little more. “Was it scary?”

“You left.” Graham says, voice less watery, like he doesn’t know the weight of his words. He’s focused on the rerun of Adventure Time that’s playing. He’s not even remotely interested in his nightmare now, with his tears dried up, and his eyes drooping back towards slumber.

“I’m going to leave one day,” Mark says, because he thinks it’s important that Graham knows.

“You should stay with me and Mom,” Graham says. He yawns. “We like you so much!”

Mark’s heart stutters. He tries not to think about it.

-

When Graham’s bed is empty the next morning, you freak out. He’s always in his room in the morning. Even if he wakes up before you, he stays in and plays with his toys.

You’ve already got your phone out, and your mother’s number called, when you walk into the living room.

Relief floods your system. Mark and Graham are asleep on the couch, snuggled up serenely like they didn’t just cause you to have a premature heart attack.

You hang up before the call to your mom can go through and stand there, watching the two boys sleep. Graham has both his arms wrapped around Mark’s forearm. It’s such a sweet picture that you take out your phone and snap one.

The flash is on.

Mark scrunches his nose and winces. “What the–”

“Sorry!” You whisper. “You both looked so cute, I couldn’t help it.”

Mark smiles, still sleepy, and finally opens his eyes. He peers at you, copper brown under fluttering lashes and you’re almost intimidated into looking away. “He had a nightmare.”

“Oh?”

“About me leaving.”

“Oh.” You frown. “I’m really sorry about that. I keep telling him that you’re moving out soon, but I don’t think he fully understands.”

Graham stirs. You reach down and pick him up. Your knuckles brush across Mark’s warm, sweater-clad chest and you suddenly wish you could cuddle with him, too. You shake the thoughts away and focus on your drowsy son. “You’re staying at Grandma's for a few days, remember?”

Graham rubs his eyes and perks up. “And I’ll see her cat?”

“Yes,” you confirm. “But we’ve got to get you dressed because she’s coming in a few minutes.”

-

“Mark Lee!” Your mom’s voice embarrassingly rings through the apartment, and you realize Mark has taken it upon himself to open the door. “Y/n told me she had a temporary roommate but I never thought she would finally ask you!”

“Oh my gosh…” you mumble, buckling Graham’s overalls and hauling him up into your arms. “Mom! His apartment flooded so he’s staying here. Don’t be weird about it.”

“But he’s so handsome,” your mom coos. You’re concerned she might reach forward and pinch Mark’s already ruddy cheeks.

“Thanks,” Mark laughs. “But she’s right, I’m just squatting until I can find a new place.”

Your mom harrumphs. “Well, I don’t see why you can’t stay here forever. Y/n doesn’t even use that office room. And even if she did, the two of you could just share a room.”

“Mom!” You plunk Graham into her hands and grab his overnight bag. “You have to leave.”

“Did I say something wrong?” She sounds worried, but there’s an undisclosed mirth in her eyes that makes you think of your freshman year, when you did have a crush on Mark.

“You said everything wrong,” you say, kindly pushing her out. “Have a good time, Graham. I love you! As always, Mom, call if you need me to come get him.”

“Yeah, right!” She yells over her shoulder. Graham is already giggling, so you close the door with confidence.

You turn back to your roommate. “I’m sorry about that, Mark.”

“It’s fine.” He smiles, but it’s reserved. “But speaking of me finding a place… I know Haechan told you that I can’t go back to my own apartment. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“It’s okay,” you say. You want to say “You can stay here as long as you want, and long as you’ll let me keep you,” but that would reveal too much, and you don’t want to lose the one good friend you have.

“And I was thinking I should move out soon anyway.” Mark pulls his sweater sleeves until they cover his hands. He’s hiding. He’s shielding himself the same way he did in junior year, when he got turned down by his crush to go to the prom. “I don’t think it’s good for Graham to get this attached to me if I’m just going to leave.”

“Oh,” Your sleeves are too short, but you want to shield yourself too. “Yeah, that’s… that’s probably a good idea.”

Mark stands there for a beat, like he’s waiting for you to say something more. Like he hasn’t just taken your heart and pushed it aside. Like this hurts a lot less than it actually does.

But any word out of your mouth would be tearful. It would be honest. It would ruin everything. “I’m going to go on a run.”

-

There’s a cricket outside that won’t stop chirping against your window. You blame it for your insomnia, choosing to ignore the anxiety of eventually losing Mark. It feels so horribly childish, since you’ll see him when you drop Graham off at school. And you’ll see him whenever the two of you go out for coffee on weekends.

But you won’t see him in the kitchen, reaching for the pancake mix so his shirt rises up and you can see the dimples in his back. You won’t see him humming along to the radio while he works on his lesson plans. You won’t feel his warmth when the two of you stay awake, nursing spiked lemonade and giggling at the commentary videos you find on YouTube.

He’ll just be Mark again. He won’t be home anymore.

Startled by the realization, you get out of your covers and rush to your door.

It opens before you can even reach for the doorknob, and there’s Mark in his pajamas, biting his lip and avoiding your eyes.

“I don’t want you to leave,” you say.

Mark confesses, “I love you.”

You open your arms and he dives in, face pressed into the space where your neck meets your shoulder. Warmth envelopes you and the scent of pine fills your nose.

Mark is timeless. Youthful glory and childish pride. He’s a pinch on the side and a push on the swings. Like a rock that actually skips on the first try. Like shoes that you can slip on when they’re still tied. And he’s here, in your arms, squeezing you like you’re something valuable enough to lose. He’s confessing love like you aren’t the worst possible candidate for his heart.

“I can’t offer you much,” you start, but Mark bumps his forehead against yours, boyish and playful — football fields and bright red lockers and secret notes on bathroom walls.

“I’ve known you for years, Y/n,” Mark’s voice is a low rumble. Copper eyes blinking at you like you’re something to second glance at. “I know what I’m getting into. I want you. I want Graham. I want everything this is, and everything we’ve been for the past month. I don’t want this to end.”

You close your eyes, because his are too honest. He’s open and vulnerable and gentle — a child on the first day of school, ready to make friends. You take a deep breath, try to remember what you were like on your first day. Rosy cheeks and shy glances. Knobby knees and a trusting heart. You reach out for whoever you once were — the Y/n with a heart open and willing to be loved. “I don’t want this to end either. I’m in love with you, Mark.”

His grin lights up your world in its entirety. Gold flecks in onyx black disappear as he smiles, too thrilled to keep his eyes open. And when he kisses you, warm lips against cold ones, you feel like a puzzle has just slotted into place.

It would only make sense that you would grow to love the boy you grew up with.

#Nct fluff #nct fanfiction #Nct angst #Nct scenarios #mark lee fluff #mark lee imagines #mark lee angst #mark lee fanfic #mark lee scenarios #mark lee x reader #nct x reader #destwrites

[arty-shadow-morningstar]

A Failed Betrothal (5)

This is going to be the last part I am going to post in a while. My school is finally starting up again and I am sure to be swamped with homework. Without further ado. Enjoy ❤

[Masterlist]

(Part 1)(Part 4)

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Damian laid in bed, thinking about the recent turn of events. Lady, who told them that they can call her Marinette since they might as well get acquainted while the Waynes were in Paris. She had found out Jason’s identity after a few google searches and by extension, the rest of the Bats while they both were taking a shower. It had taken a few arguments and one sentimonster attack that cut one of the arguments short to trust the Dupain-Chengs with their secret identities. His bride was apparently a superhero too. Has been for a few years. In a different world, he might have actually dated her out of his own free will and fought crime with her together.

Damian shook his head at that thought.

That was the curse talking. Get a hold of yourself, Wayne. Resist. Don’t think about Marinette and her blue eyes.

Back to the akumas, Paris had been under the control of a magical terrorist for years. Lady Noire, formerly known as Ladybug, formed a team to battle against him. He also found out about the Guardian who chose Marinette and someone else, who wasn’t spoken about much except that his name was Chat Noir and she now wields his ring temporarily, to fight against Hawkmoth as partners. The same Guardian that promised her hand-in-marriage in exchange for protection from the League of Assassins. Sabine, the Blue Reaper, had to be restrained from killing the old amnesiatic man by her bear of a husband who was reluctant to do so and also wanted to help her.

Hawkmoth also had a partner who went by the name, Mayura, with a power similar to his and could create sentimonster out of negative emotions. Their top suspect was Gabriel Agreste, with much evidence pointing his way but they had difficulty trying to confirm it and had the time to gather evidence to do it. The local authorities were helpful but getting a search warrant for a famous, rich designer who was a known recluse with circumstantial evidence is not possible.

After informing their father of their kidnapping and the situation in Paris (and racking up the Dupain-Cheng's phone bill), they were told to stay there and help as much as they can. Tim, who was coming to Paris for a vacation (suspicious), got his plans hijacked and was now going to help uncover Hawkmoth’s identity.

When the Justice League had reached out a few years ago, they were rebuffed by the Mayor. Nightrunner got into contact with the one of the heroes, Ladybug who asked for a meeting outside of Paris with Wonder Woman and Batman came along, to assess her. They didn’t expect a young girl to be Paris’s heroine.

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3 years ago…

“Bonjour, Princess Diana of Themyscira, daughter of Hippolayta, it is an honour to meet you. And you too, Batman.” The spotted heroine greeted both of them with Nightrunner besides her. Their meeting point was in the gardens in the Palace of Versailles.

“The pleasure is all mine, Ladybug. But I am confused as to why you have refused the Justice League’s help.” Wonder Woman was worried that the Ladybug Miraculous was active again and for many good reasons.

“I would be glad for some help but Paris is run by an incompetent fool. He wants no one outside of Paris to think that the city is unsafe due to Hawkmoth and keep the tourism numbers high. The other reason is that my Miraculous Cure can restore any physical damages done during a fight and involving you might result in more damages than I could cure. But I also think it would be better if there were less powerful heroes in Paris, akumas amplifies one’s power and I don’t want to fight you after you had a bad day.” Ladybug explained. Nightrunner murmured in agreement.

“Do you know how Hawkmoth operates?” asked Batman. He had read reports of the situation but wondered the true extent of it.

“Have Wonder Woman explained to you about the Miraculous?”

He nodded.

“Hawkmoth has the butterfly miraculous, and it has the power of transmission. In the right hands, they would be used to grant ordinary people powers as the user’s champions. But in the hands of Hawkmoth, he targets people with high negative emotions, a girl after a bad break-up or a student with a failed grade. He grants them powers to use for revenge or some obscure version of justice. In return, he asks for mine and Chat Noir’s miraculous. With our two miraculous, he can make a wish but wishes always come with a price so it is best if we keep it out of his reach.”

“How have you not captured him yet?”

“Hawkmoth is a coward who rarely comes out to face us. I have never met him face-to-face. He uses people to get what he wants. Not very honourable. The Mayor has refused to help my attempts to stop him or prevent more akumas because his bratty daughter isn’t given a Miraculous to be a hero. I don’t have the time or resources because I am still in school and have other obligations outside the suit. I can’t tell my family and ask for help because the Guardian’s ,the one who gave me the Miraculous in the first place, secret identities rule and some magic thing that makes me unable to tell them.”

The adults were all horrified at what the girl was going through.

“We could help in other ways. Not fight the akumas but provide you the resources to track down and capture him. Do you have any training? From the footage we have seen, you know martial arts and how to use some weapons.”

“I was raised in a forgotten temple somewhere in Asia with brutal training everyday before I ran away. I met someone on my way out who took me in and adopted me.” She said it seriously enough that they have no room for doubt.

“Batman, she just said she was adopted. She may have the features but the answer is no.” Wonder Woman said with a knowing look in her eyes.

“I wasn’t thinking about it. She has a duty to Paris right now and I am not going to take away from her life here. I don’t adopt every black-haired and blue-eyed child I see.” Batman denied.

“I am confused.” Ladybug said, tilting her head.

“Batman here has a bad habit of adopting kids with a tragic past, especially kids with black hair and blue eyes.” Nightrunner explained to his fellow Parisian hero.

“Well, Mousier, you will have to fight my parents for custody. While I have training, Chat Noir doesn’t and he hinders the battles with his ‘help’. I would give him some but he sees them as dates even though I have told him it’s not.”

“His incompetence is a liability. Why is he your partner?”

“The Guardian chose him too like he chose me through some stupid trial I somehow passed the requirements for. I am just hoping that there is a really good reason for choosing Chat Noir. I have some questions on how you are-”

“Ladybug, what are you doing?” A sharp voice cut in. An old man who appeared to be dressed as a tortoise landed in front of them.

“Master Fu, this is Princess Diana of Themyscira and the world’s greatest detective, Batman. I am asking for their help in finding Hawkmoth.” Ladybug explained, confused why Master Fu looked upset.

“Ladybug, that was extremely foolish of you. This is a matter of the Order. You shouldn’t have involved other heroes in it. We can resolve this on our own. I apologize on behalf of her for wasting your time.”

“But, Master-” “We will talk about this later, Ladybug. You are young and don’t understand things yet.”

“Guardian, with all due respect, my mother was a Ladybug wielder herself and the Amazons will lend a hand to any miraculous holders in need.”

“It is appreciated but Ladybug, Chat Noir and I can do it on our own. Come along, Ladybug.”

“Let me at least apologize for my mistake, Guardian.”

“Very well. Meet me later.”

“I am sorry but it looks like I have to fight Hawkmoth without your help. That being said please don’t try to look further into Hawkmoth’s identity and leave any notes of your leads in the mouth of the gargoyle on the northside of Notre Dame where I usually rest after I finish patrol. Salut, Princess Diana, Batman, Nightrunner.” She left using her yo-yo to swing away after giving them a wink.

Batman smirked. He had to give it to Ladybug, she was clever and resourceful and Diana was right, he wanted to adopt her.

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Present time…

(Words in bold are French)

Now that the previous Guardian was out of the picture, the Miraculous team would gladly accept any help they can get.

Damian and Jason had picked up Tim from the airport and they had already set things up in one of the Wayne penthouses in Paris. Less chance of nosy maids than in a hotel.

Bilal had already handed over all the evidence he could find. He was also one of the Miraculous team’s trainers when Sabine couldn’t make it. Jason and Damian were going to help in training and be back-up heroes when needed. (Bilal wore a miraculous once to help out. And that one time was weird enough to last him a lifetime and he was never doing it again.)

Sadly, all the magic users who were allies or part of the JL were busy with other missions or MIA so they couldn’t break Damian’s curse yet. Bruce didn’t see the problem with the curse so unless it causes major problems or someone is free to break it. They couldn’t go back to Gotham until they got the necessary things in order so it looks like they were going to be in Paris for a while.

The next morning, Tim was nowhere to be found. Because they were paranoid Batboys, they tracked his phone to see him at the Dupain-Cheng’s bakery with Marinette and a group of other people, having breakfast.

“There you are, Replacement.” Jason shouted as he entered the bakery, “So, this is where you were? I see you have already figured out who Ladybug is and met her.”

Marinette looked at Damian and Jason, then at Tim and back at them again.

Oh.

Oh.

She face-palmed as she connected the dots and realized what the nagging feeling she had around Tim was about.

“Oh my Kwamis, you are Tim Drake, adopted by Bruce Wayne aka Batman. Jason and Damian are your brothers. And judging by your build, you are Red Robin. I feel so stupid.”

Thankfully, there were no customers around yet to hear some of the world’s most important secrets being out.

“I am- We are not- Bruce isn’t- How?! How the hell did you find out? And you are Ladybug?!” Tim was floundering at Marinette’s words and the caffeine from his first coffee of the day hadn’t kicked in yet. He looked at her friends, who were looking at the Wayne boys with shocked expressions….and looked similar to the rest of the Miraculous Team.

The caffeine finally kicked in.

“Oh my God. I was talking to the entire Miraculous Team and I didn’t know it. That means Chloe Bourgeois is a hero. That bratty blonde I met as a child is a hero.”

“Speak for yourself, Timothy, my childhood friend is a hero too. I can’t believe we are all heroes.” Chloe said in total disbelief.

Introductions and alter egos were exchanged.

Nearly everything went swimmingly if it weren’t for Chloe jokingly elbowed Marinette and said, “You get to date a hero too. No need to worry about flaking out on dates.”

“What do you mean dates? Dupain-Cheng and I aren’t dating.” Damian said, “My mother wanted us to marry each other, not date.”

“Mari, looks like you need some explaining to do.”

Marinette gave the short story on how she met Damian and Jason.

“So you guys are absolutely not dating? Cool. Tim, are you still open to being Mari-bug's fake boyfriend?” Chloe asked. Tim looked at her incredulously.

“You called me all the way here to fake-date your friend. Why? Not that I am complaining about her or anything.” “There is this boy in our class, Adrien Agreste and he has a little obsession with Marinette.” Chloe explained. “Romantic Soulmates.” Nathaniel chimed in, doing air-quotes.

“So I volunteered on your behalf to be my best friend’s long-distance boyfriend in America who has video-call dates with her once a week. You are going to have little romantic dates coincidently where our classmates are going to be, especially Adrien. It might put him off from pursuing Marinette for a while. After you leave, we are just to mention you every now and then to prevent him from getting any ideas.”

Damian felt a hot, burning sensation in his chest and clenched his jaw at the thought of Marin- Dupain-Cheng holding hands, cuddling and doing all those romantic actions with Drake of all people. (No, he wasn’t jealous. Not at all. Don’t be stupid. )

“Tch, Drake is going to be busy trying to find Hawkmoth. He can’t go around Paris, being Dupain-Cheng’s boyfriend. Besides, he can’t be a proper boyfriend even in his most lucid moments. I will be her boyfriend instead.”

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(PART 6)

#damian x marinette #mlb x dc #daminette #maribat #Betrothal AU: take 2 #A Failed Betrothal #betrothed couple fake dating #Chloe and Tim as childhood friends #Master Fu salt #damian is not jealous. it is an absurd notion to make