#jinx gets created here twice

[thebottomfromhell]

can i request a uppermoons x female reader who is like jinx from arcane (you can watch arcane on netflix!!)

I have watched Arcane, good show, saying it as a person who never played LOL. It's one of those series where one minute leaves 3 hours discussion of a topic, and Jinx is wonderful in it. I love what they do with her, showing her struggles with her mental issues and the violent and political world around her, one having to accept that she is very hard to deal with as everyone is trying their best and failing at whatever they are doing.

Let's see if I can make her justice.

Female Reader like Jinx (Arcane ver) interacting with the Uppermoons

Warnings: Small Hantengu, Cannibalism, Unhealthy relationships, Mental health issues and neglect, Bad coping mechanism, Implied polyamory (can be read with Hantengu and all the clones, some or just one), Excesive use of violence, Bullying, Mentioned non-character human death amd Slight angst.

Gyutaro (ft. Daki):

If Gyutaro had a yen for every girl that got attached to him in an unhealthy manor creating a dynamic of co-dependance due several mental issues that remained unsolved because his over-protectiveness and his comforming nature, he would have two yen. Which isn't much, but it's weird it happened twice, specially with how ugly he is. But Daki doesn't mind and you seem to like his unsettling face and body. Gyutaro is not against taking care of you both, he doesn't mind and will gladly make his life about someone he loves for the sake of having any worth and purpose...

The problem, or one of them, at least, is that Daki nor you like Gyutaro taking care of the other. You both seem to want the older demon for yourselves, having him comforting you, making every tiny bit of ick and pain go away. "I was here first! I was with him before you! I will be here when you are gone! You are only a phase! Get lost and stop bothering my onii-chan!" "Shut up! If I am a phase then why are you so bratty about it! Just accept that your brother likes me better than you! Right Nichi-nichi?" You talk to a blade from a dead slayer that you turned into a snake toy, hearing what it has to say. Nichi-nichi agrees with you, "of course you are more likable than that Daki bitch", you knew it would agree. And yes, Nichi-nichi pronouns are it/them, thank you very much.

Gyutaro just puts himself in between you both, letting you grab one of his arm and pull as she grabs the other. "Enough! Ne, both of you! Stop insulting each other, ne." He scolds both of you, not minding as both of you play with his arms, Daki bringing his hand to her face to have Gyutaro comforting her. "Onii-chan! Onii-chan, Y/N was mean to me!" Really, he has no idea how to deal with you both. What is he even meant to do, last time he chose Daki as the winner of the argument you not only tried to harm her but harmed yourself in the process. And he can't just... not side his little sister. The worst part is that he doesn't want you to leave, and you don't want to leave neither.

"Please, ne.. stop fighting." He pulls both of you into a hug, letting his sister nuzzle against his stomach and you against his hack, using his hands to sooth both of you, sighing when you both relax enough to the point you are almost asleep. Seriously, what is he meant to do?

Gyokko:

"STOP STEALING MY MATERIALS, YOU CRAZY WOMAN!!" He screams on top of his lungs as you stole some bones and katanas, besides some paint and ceramics to build a 4 bladed gun with shark appereance... with his stuff. "What?" You ask him, seeing his horrified look at the materials spread on the floor, some even wasted, to make... to make.. "What even is that?" He ask, not really knowing what to say, feeling his head is going to explode. "You like him? His name is Fishbones! He is a fish, just like you! Say "hi" Fishbones! "Hello Gyokko, is very nice to meet ya"."

Fishbones... fishbones, of course. WHY THAT PIECE OF TRASH HAS A NAME! WHY ARE YOU- WHY?! "My head hurts." He really doesn't know how to deal with the insane, with you. He means, you are fun to be around, always helpful to kill people and fetch materials of all times, you are also very creative and a piece of joy... most of the time. Other times you just behave like a brat, and he would usually get rid of you by now but he guess it was his mistake to warm up to you.

"Hey! It's rude to ignore people, Mer-artist. Fishbones is sad now!" You move Fishbones so the "face" looks down for him to be able to express his sadness. Sometimes Gyokko is just so rude! He should thank the gods that he is funny and has the best materials for art, or else you wouldn't stick around. He makes a weird face, which you guess could also be a normal face since his face is weird, and you just tale Fishbones closer to you. "Don't worry, Fishbones. The ugly mermaid is just like that, he will warm up to you." You reach your ear closer to hear what he has to say as Gyokko decides to ignore you for now, and god that was funny, you laugh at Fishbone's voices. "Hahaha! Good one!"

"Why did I do this to myself?" He ascts as he sees you running away to play... he should have just killed you the day he met you. For real.

Hantengu + Clones:

Hantengu... stands you. You are not the safest person to be around and not only he feels intimidated by you, but also a bit afraid. You are always on something, so, while he appreciates you and likes you, he prefers leaving you to his clones most of the time, who can entertain you and keep up with you easier. That doesn't stop you from pulling him off his safe space, taking in your hand when he is small and running around with him. "AHHHH! EEEEAAK! LET ME GO, PLEASE LET ME GO!" You only laugh and keep running as Karaku laughs while Urogi flies over your head, playing with you. "I will catch you! I will catch you!" "Try to catch me! But I have Hantengu! I am the queen of the ga-" you are interrupted with Sekido and Aizetsu arriving.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING! CAREFUL WITH THE MAIN BODY!" He says angrily as he walks where you are, everyone in their places without moving, until Sekido tries to reach your arm, making you dodge and keep running. "Catch me if you can!" Everyone stays dumbfounded for a while as Hantengu begins to scream again, grabbing himself on your fingers as the anger clone starts to build up fury as Karaku and Urogi begin laughing. "This is so sad, Hantengu looks like he will throw up. You are all just torturing the poor thing." Knowing he won't be heard, the sad clone just steps aside as Sekido explodes. "Y/N YOU FUCKING-"

He was about to strike you with the power of his staff but Karaku stops him as Urogi keeps chasing you. "Hey, hey, Sekido. Don't get so angry or you will be the one hurting the main body!" All the arteries seem to want to explode with some veins in the anger clone body, who just looks at the pleasure clone before stabbing him "THEN YOU GO GET THEM, YOU LAZY FUCK!" Karaku laughs as he heals "Ok! Guys! I was told to play with ya all!" This, again, angers Sekido as you all start chasing each other, except for Aizetsu who was waiting for everyone to calm down before inserting himself in all the action.

You like this group, it's mostly cozy and there is always someone willing to pay attention to you, to take care of you, listen to you. There are no expectations, just fun, being able to be a chaotic as you want, and you get to prove who you are in battle. "Got you!" Urogi lands on top of you, the impulse making you throw Hantengu in the air, being catched by Aizetsu's spear. "I think that was enough for today. It's making me sad." "Hahaha, great catch you both!" "Thanks!" "So scary! So scary!" "Can't you all stop causing trouble?!" Ypu would not change them for nothing. "That was great! Who wants another game?" "YES!" "NO!"

Nakime:

Look, you are a lovely woman, Nakime thinks it's endearing how you make your own projects and build up little things, as chaotic as they mey turn. You have like 7 rooms and 5 hallways to destroy as you wish in her castle, where you create your tinckets. She is very patient with you, listening to your problems when you want to talk about them, which you barely do, and gives you space when you need it. Sure, she doesn't talk as much as you probably wished she did, and Nakime does have her responsibilities, she still doesn't understand...

What did she ever do to you to blow up her room?! Nakime doesn't need to sleep, but of course she keeps a place for herself, one with luxuries and things she would have liked to have as a human, and now the surfaces are all burned up with the place destroyed. Her books, dresses, extra biwas... all gone. She doesn't even know how to react, the biwa of her Blood Demon Art almost slipping through her fingers. No words come from her mouth as you stand there, also burned but not as harmed as you could be. "Hey! Haha... this is not what it looks like."

Nakime then comes out of her shock. "What happened?" She knows better than to word it as "what did you do" since... you are not stable, at all. She understands that, and she also understand you have different needs from her, that your way of interacting with the world is naturally... other. Nakime likes to think that her stability is something that you need, something that will be good for you, as long as she can keep everything under control, as long as you both are in the castle. "I... wanted to make you a gift... but it didn't work like I wanted." You are guilty, you know how much Nakime loved the things in her room and you ruined it.

No, what are you talking about? You didn't ruin anythin, you had good intentions, you wanted to be helpful. That is enough, righ? You don't need to feel guilty about it, right? Right?! Nakime takes a deep breath before putting her hands in the side of you face gently, you can feel her loong nails scare away the ick and noise of your self doubt as her palms, not soft nor harsh, comfort you. "Ok. How about you lead me to your rooms next time." She is angry, but she also understand that her anger will be harmful, so as long as she can control everything... it will be fine. "Ok, next time!" You rush to put aside any bad feeling, relying in Nakime's stability for it.

Akaza:

He has to take care of you, he understands... you are a woman, and you are sick. Not the typical sick that can be cured, not that it ever bothered, but a sick more like... like Douma, not that Akaza will ever admit it. You have problems, a lot of them, and most lead you to cause problems. He understands that you want to prove your worth at the same time you just want to be able to live your life, he really does... but you need to stop. You need a break. To try and heal and it's awful because he can't nurse you as he should-

"Pinkie-flake! What are you thinking about? Your frown can basically shout in my ear." He doesn't get startled even when you break his concentration as you jump over his back, wanting a bit of attention. Akaza is nice, too worried for it to be healthy for either of you, as far as you are concerned, but he served as the best source of comfort. Now, if only he dared to let you fight, then things would be much better. Still, you like him a lot, Akaza lets you rambles and pays attention to you, trying to find solutions to your problems and is always around, so you never feel lonely or abandoned. "C'mon! Smile for me!" You say as you move to sit on his lap.

It's an innocent gesture, unlike what anyone would think, and Akaza understand that you want, need, the physical contact as he moves his arms to hold you in a more stable way. "C'mon 'flakes, say something!" He only looks at you for a while, not having idea what to say, or to do, besides embrace you close. It's a bit scary to not know what to do with you, because you do need help even if you don't want to accept it. Help that he can't give. "I'm thinking." Is all the can mutter.

You are not fine with not being told what is happening, so you start to poke his cheek with your finger, making sounds effects when you do. Akaza still lets's you be, berely noticing when the finger is replaced by a knife, stabbing the side of his mouth, blade meeting his teeth and tongue with the metalic taste of blood and the weapon itself. He turns to see you as he heals. "Oops... my bad." You laugh nerviiusly as you put the knife away, and Akaza feels like he is about to cry at the loss. "It's ok. It doesn't really affect me." "like if affects on you", he doesn't say.

Douma:

"Y/N! Can I ask you a favor? I have a pretty lady in my room, could you go there and make me dinner while I finish speaking with a recent follower of mine?" You do, eager to prove that you can do it, eager to test a new item you made with materials Douma gave you, you want to show you appreciate it, that you can help. You just want to help. So you do, as much as you can, even if that includes killing an innocent woman. If you are affected by it or not, it's not your priority.

"Well, it's a bit messy here." He comments, you over did it, you can admit that, but it's not like Douma minds. On the contrary, he seems cheerful at it. "Not that I would left the place better, my killings are almost clean, but I am a messy eater." He sits besides you as you smirk and laugh "Oopsie." He only laughs with you as he picks up a piece of leg and takes a bite, blood splashing in his face, making you laugh louder. "So..." he starts after chewing a little, swallowing before he continues. "How was your day?"

You start to ramble about it, making jokes and comments, sharing the moments with Douma as he listens, or is very good pretending at the least. He is interactive, but a paranoid part wonders if it's because he grew up doing this, he knows how to react, but does he actually care? Still, you would not just stop coming to Douma, who is not only a good resource of... everything, honestly, but he is just great. He lets's you do as you want, makes sure to listen, you both can have fun together, gives you chances to prove yourself. Really, why would you dislike Douma? Because he is fake? New flash, not everyone is as honest as they like to pretend they are.

Douma finds you entertaining, odd and new, exciting. He understand that you are both weird, that you should have been in a way that was not the same results as expected. Something is wrong with you, just like something is wrong with every demon he has met, himself included. Maybe one day he can turn you into one, would be hell of a demon lady, might even reach the Kizuki system. But those are thoughts, right now he is pretending he can help you, when honestly, nobody can. "Oh, really? Tell me more."

Kokushibou:

Kokushibou doesn't know what to do with you, rambling and using objects as toys, he thinks you as childish. It doesn't help the fact that you are sensitive, getting upset quite easily, but hiding it most of the time. Not that he would like to be responsible for your feelings, he can barely deal with his, so both of you shutting them down seems good enough. "Shi-Bobo! How've ya been! Missed me?" Urg, and the nickname. Seriously, he doesn't even know if you mean it as "death-eye-eye" or "death-moo-moo", why are you calling him that?

"It's not appropriate to call me that." Is the only thing he says, ignoring his question asn you walk around him playfully, slowly and gracefully before suddenly jumping on hin, graving yourself by his shoulders as you put a knife in his throat. Is it even a nichirin one? "C'mon, give a girl a break. It's always "blah blah blah rules! Blah blah etiquette! Blah bla blo-bloring-boring!" Say something fun for once!" His answer? Silence.

"Urg! You are so boring." You put the knife away, losing interest due the lack of reaction. Is it really too much to want something to happen? Something fun! A distraction from... ya know... everything. You really like Kokushibou, he is pretty and elegant, sometimes shy, which makes him easy to mess with. Other times he is just stoic, reacting at nothing, so you always have different buttons to press. So you move around him again before suddenly cutting one leg of his hakama pants and a little bit os skin. He didn't dodge due the surprise and the fact you didn't really hurt him... well, his pride is hurt with a leg exposed.

"What is wrong with you?!" He almost screams, almost, as he raises his voice and face becomes red ah he looks bashed and angry at you at the same time, you didn't know that mix was possible before him. "Awww. Is Shi-Bobo embarrased that his leg got exposed? Is he afraid to be grabbed by it? Big strong demon not liking the attention?" He reaches his sword, genuinely questioning if he should draw it out and slain you. He takes a few breaths, calming down, clearly flustered as you keep talking, not bothering with the fact he is doing his best to ignore you, but then.... "Run or I will end you." Some seconds of silence before you laugh and start running. "Sure, let's play tag! You're it!" He really doesn't know why he bothers to try with you. Really.

#demon slayer #kny #upper moons #kny x reader #urogi #karaku #aizetsu #sekido #gyutaro #gyokko #hantengu #nakime #akaza #douma #kokushibou #female reader #daki

[meteor752]

They deserve to go feral, as a treat

I was inspired

Someone asked who of the kids are most likely to go bad in the wake of Jimmy-boys villain arc, and 5/7 of em could very much go bad if they tried, and I gave all of them reasons as to why and how they would be evil

So here’s the evil guys

Also all of these exist in separate universes from each other, we don’t have five supervillains running amok at the same time lol

Watcher Liana

Liana has the watcher gene who most commonly in the fandom is depicted as not very nice guys, plus the hurt and betrayal of her dads would leave her impressionable to their words

Power: Clairvoyance, pupeteering, mind control, space warping

Status of the world: Hermitcraft, Empires, and the death servers have all been combined through a multitude of rifts. Hardcore rules, and some people are under her influence and out for blood

Weakness: Can be subdued if wearing the blindfold

Victims: Grian, BigB, Jimmy, Pearl, Martyn, Gertrude

Danger level: Severe

Wes of the under

Wes would be a villain who like, wouldn’t see himself as bad. Wes is a protector, and he’s also naturally anxious and fearful, so he’d do anything to protect the people he loves, even if it means hurting others.

Powers: Durability, Teleportation, Invisibility, Fire Immunity, Imp scouts

Status of the world: People avoid going underground and entering caves like the plague. The underground is a complicated tunnel system, a maze to anyone that isn’t apart of the imp hive mind. All of the kids, and some hermits and emperors, are missing

Weakness: Doesn’t kill, and will do anything to stop himself from doing so

Victims: None

Danger level: Medium, can be reasoned with

Princess Gertrude

Gertrude has also been hurt deeply, by both of her dads. She’d want control over her own life, and the best way to do that is to take ultimate control. Her dad has gone evil king twice, and she is a fairytale fanatic. What’s stopping her from going evil princess?

Power: Werewolf transformation, wolf army, influence over many powerful hermits, redstone skills

Status of the world: A dystopia with her at the top. Taxes are high, as is the threat of death. She has access to both X’s and fWhip’s admin controls, so she rules the world with her iron paw, and is quick to crush any rebellion

Weakness: Silver coated arrows

Victims: Grian, Xisuma, fWhip, Scar, Impulse, Pearl, Gem, Mumbo, Beef, Wels, Iskall, Katherine, Pixl, Joel, Liana, Wes

Danger level: Medium of alone. Very high if with her wolf army, or in her werewolf form

Jekiv the undead

Jekiv is a literal necromancer zombie without a soul, and little care for most people, with heavy daddy issues. The only thing actually keeping him from going villain is that Cleo raised him well

Powers: Full control of an undead army, dark magic, able to dismember and reattach his limbs

Status of the world: Zombie apocalypse dystopia. Zombies and Skeletons are immune to the sunlight, so they roam the overworld killing anything and all that they can. Most people have moved into isolated bunkers.

Weakness: Physically vulnerable. Able to be overpowered if you get his scythe away from him

Victims: Every other witch, including Shubble

Danger level: High

Novo, lord of ice

Novo is a Jinx. He’s already dealing with a lot of mental damage, so all it would take was something to make him snap and he’d loose it entirely, hurting people without even realizing it.

Powers: Freezing Water, freezing objects, creating Ice and Snow from nothing, giving life to snow and or ice, telekinetic manipulation of frozen water, creating an eternal winter

Status of the world: A frozen wasteland stuck in an eternal winter. Polar bears and strays roam freely, attacking on sight. People stay in underground grottos and homes, trying to preserve any warmth they can.

Weakness: Fire

Victims: Gertrude, Liana, Doc, Jevin, Xb, Cleo, Cub, Wels, Gem, Sausage, Katherine

Danger level: High, might accidentally kill you

—

Minor notes: The thing that made Novo snap was accidentally Killing Gertrude, a la Elsa style. His cloak, the only thing that’s not completely frozen, was hers. Jekiv and Gertrude are villains less because of something that happened, and more of they were raised differently. Liana is because of manipulation by the watchers, and idk with Wes.

Also shout out to Jassy and Johnny, who not only avoided going bad, but also remained alive in all five realities. Gg

#double life smp #dlsmp #dlsmp fankids #double life fankids #liana no last name given #wes double sv #gertrude stats diggity dawg #jekiv inthelittlewood #novo major moon #Scarian #Desert duo #Impdubs #Homewrecker duo #RenB #Box duo #Gertrude’s reality is the worst #And I wanted to showcase that through her having a very high kill count

[un-local]

15, 17, 18?

15. Do you foresee any personal or professional obstacles this year, that would keep you from creating fanworks? 

Ha, lol. Nothing will stop me. But I suppose I can admit some things may get in my way lol. For example:

Finding out I actually got into grad school

my HellJob worsens my burnout to the point that BG3 isn’t enough to fix it (god forbid) (it’s working so far… but let’s not jinx it, lol.)

Any number of possible family ordeals coming to pass. (Collapse, Reunion, Reunion destabilizing the system enough to cause Collapse…) (I know that’s vague, but I don’t want to elaborate more than that. TLDR: it’s a delicate ecosystem at times. But there’s no sense in worrying. Suffering ahead is suffering twice, or whatever.)

Truth is, 2023 was the year life really found new ways to fuck me up. And I still posted plenty nonetheless… so I wouldn’t worry too much. I’m nothing if not hardy. Like a scrappy little tundra plant 👍 (But if you’re the type see fanwork as merely content… then I guess you’ll be waiting longer than you like. Sorry. Can’t be helped.)

17. Do you typically answer all comments/reviews individually? Do you plan to change the way you interact with your readers this year?

Yes, I do answer everything—I love it. I plan to keep it that way until the end of time. If you left me an ask or a comment on AO3, I absolutely plan on answering it! (In fact, I have one I’m formulating a response to right now)

18. Do you typically post multi-chapters as you write, or finish it all and then start posting? Would you like to change your posting method? 

Oh, I have a weird workflow. It goes something like this: 

Draft a rough major outline for the fic as a whole. Barebones, plot skeleton. For SWRD, this is done. ✓

Go in and add in the fine details and emotional moments. The substance, if you will. With the way I write canon divergence, this is where it gets sticky: lots of rearranging, and setup for future divergences/characterizations here. Since I go past what canon gives us, it means I want to watch my footing and step carefully, so to speak.

Fill in the scenes with real words. The easy part! Mostly. 

For steps 2 and 3, I work in “sets” of chapters. So I have about 3 or 4 in the works right now. They might be on the longer side. 

Mostly, it’s about getting the emotional arcs balanced with the onset of Rogier’s true decline right now. And sowing seeds for their future dealings with Ranni post-Nokron 👍

Would I like to change it? Nah. It gives me time to think, so I can (hopefully) end up with something coherent. More free time would be nice tho… XD

Thanks for the ask anon, Happy New Year! 🎉

Send me a number!

#hare answers #hare posts #ask game

[meiakrp]

MINI EVENT : TEAM UP ! BI-ANNUNAL TEAM TRAINING 

Spring time is in full swing around Insidia. Trees and flowers are in full bloom and the heat levels are rising. With the agency moving forward from last months attack that left a whole in the building and it’s number of active agents. 

Suspicion and mistrust are high but the head agents are trying to get things back into order. With the completion of the repairs to the agency, and JINX finally being back on her feat, they figured it was a good time for a week of team building. 

That brings the bi-annunal Team Training.

Twice a year JINX and SOL put together a week to focus on bettering team coordination, running battle scenarios, and fostering good relationships within the agency. Teamwork is heavily enforced all year long in hopes to lessen in house tensions. This goes for not just an agents main team but also with every team, as it is common to switch up the teams for specific missions.

Training week will take placed from MAY 29TH to JUNE 4TH. Any team not currently on a mission is required to take part in at least two tasks on each day. Both Jinx and Sol are over seeing the event, and everyone knows that CELEST is always watching.

The schedule for this training week is as follows:

SUNDAY 1000 HOURS : GROUP BREAKFAST 1200 HOURS : OPENING CEREMONY 1400 HOURS : WARM UP & PEP TALKS  1600 HOURS : LASER TAG - for all teams. It is a team free for all, meaning teams (raven, sparrow, finch, bluejay, dove, falcon) are working as one to tag out the other teams with laser guns created by ALISTAIR for this event.  1800 HOURS : DINNER  1900 HOURS : BONFIRE - this will be up until midnight. There will be snacks, and drinks, baby agents under the age of 20 are to retire at 2300 hours.  

MON-FRI EVENTS : 0600 HOURS : BREAKFAST ( for an hour )  0700 HOURS : NEW TEAM ASSIGNMENTS   0800 HOURS : WARM UP & PEP TALKS 0900 HOURS : EVENTS BEGIN

The events for the week are as follows : Archery Competition - The range is open challenges created by ALISTAIR to test aim, coordination, and focus. Every half hour a new challenge is open to up to 6 agents at a time. 

Water Gun Fights - The field behind the civilian housing has been cleaned up for matches featuring guns filled with water. Agents can join a 2 v 2 match of skill, aim, and timing. 

Foot Races - The indoor training gym has been opened for races. Three legged races, dead sprints, relays, and multiply lap races around the length of the gym floor. Agents can join solo or bring others to challenge against. 

Trivia and Knowledge - CELEST has stepped forward to challenge the agents to question games. One of the large meeting rooms on the first floor will host these games with CELEST or MAYLIN being the one to challenge the agents minds. 

Battle Simulation - JINX is running the simulation room. Teams of 3-4 are allowed to come in and challenge the robots and dummies' that have been programed with almost 100 different battle sequences.  

Wrestling Matches - The weights room has been rearranged to make room for a mat. SOL will be over seeing 1v1 wrestling matches in here. Try for fun, or take part in the roster to see who is the strongest? 

SATURDAY 1000 HOURS : GROUP BREAKFAST 1200 HOURS : CLOSING CEREMONY 1400 HOURS : WARM UP & PEP TALKS 1500 HOURS : CAPTURE THE FLAG - teams have been split into two team yellow verses team blue and each team’s goal is to capture the other teams flag while guarding their own. The game will run for three hours and the winning team is the one who has the most points by the end.  1800 HOURS : DINNER  1900 HOURS : BONFIRE - this will be up until midnight. There will be snacks, and drinks. All agents are allowed to stay up the full time. 

[ This event will run from MAY 9TH to JUNE 6th.

Teams will be arranged at the bottom of this post for each day. To gain rank points you must write one 4 post thread (at least 8 lines) with at least 2 people from your assigned teams in the event timeframe.

tag each post with #miattwsp

Bonus points : for every thread with a different person after the first two. Bonus Bonus : from writing a solo about your agents thoughts regarding the team training week. 

Rank points will come into play soon as CELEST has begun calculations.

There are no consequences to not taking part but every agent would be involved in team week.

TEAMS BY DAY :

Sunday :     regular main teams.  Mon/Tue:  1. helios zer0 harlequin luna clyde siren 2. ivy epsilon mist moon silk bonnie 3. aether phantom castle star shadow joker 4. seb sun wisp lucifer titan 5. remy vox sena puresnow eraser nano Wed/Thur : 1. ivy sun aether silk shadow nano 2. seb moon star epsilon bonnie siren 3. harlequin phantom wisp eraser joker 4. helios zer0 remy mist clyde titan 5. sena castle puresnow vox luna lucifer

Friday :    regular main teams 

Saturday :  Yellow team -  helios, mist, seb, wisp, harlequin, phantom, sun, vox, epsilon sena, puresnow luna, eraser, lucifer Blue team -   zer0, aether, ivy remy, shadow, silk, castle, star, moon, bonnie, clyde, nano, siren, joker, titan

Have fun, agents ]

#miaevent #miaminievent #miattwsp

[hauntingblue]

On my third watch I realize that this is the same bridge

#am i dense or just forgetful which one is it #the implications of this btw #they end right where it all started #jinx gets created here twice #all the family back together too haha :)))) (im not happy about this one) #arcane #jinx arcane #vi arcane #vi #jinx #i love how arcane is like their last names lmao #my buddy jinx arcane #sorry about the quality btw the first is a youtube screenshot so... #also i was watching a video and the last scene was playing and i thought wait.... why is the bridge broken.... #watching arcane #op #1k #!!! #pulling strings

[nctsworld]

two nights, one you

✩‌ jaemin ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|‌ fuckboy!jaemin | strangers (who f*ck) to (brief) enemies to lovers | ‌10.9k 

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ a last-minute one night stand gone awry is extended into two nights when you’re snowed in at the cute (but rude) stranger’s apartment on christmas eve. [loosely based on the movie, two night stand] // part of the x-mas in ncity collection  GENRES ⇾ crack | smut | fluff  WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ ‌lots of bickering and dialogue, smut, oral s*x (f and m receiving), fingering, mentions of alcohol/drinking, swearing, bit of angst before the end, jaemin’s an asshole... or is he? RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ explicit TAGLIST ⇾‌ @infnteen​ 

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ it’s late (and long fsldkm), srysry but here it is! i hope the humour comes out in this and look away if falls flat zzz fingers crossed that i can finish the last two installments for this collection asap! 

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

Maybe it’s because it’s the evening of Christmas Eve Eve and you’re feeling more lonely than usual.

Maybe it’s due to the two glasses of wine you guzzled down in the span of fifteen minutes that get you buzzed.

Maybe it’s your prominent six-month dry spell and you’re in desperate need for some much needed rain in your drought.    

Or maybe it’s just pure impulsiveness.

Regardless of the reasons, you’re aiming to get laid tonight.  

It’s 9:45pm as you make the rounds on Tinder. You’ve used it in the past, searching for a relationship in vain, but haven’t used it much since you broke up with your last partner. Bringing the app alive again, you’re already bombarded by distasteful messages, off-putting one-liners and jokes, and swiping left more than you’d like.

You haven’t had a one-night stand before, but isn’t there anyone on here that is just a little bit attractive, nearby where you are, around your age, and is somewhat chivalrous about the topic besides saying DTF? Maybe you need to lower your standards if you want to get dicked down tonight.

But then, you land on him.

One Na Jaemin, 20 years old, and only four miles away from you.

Scrolling through his profile pictures and Instagram feed, you assume that he’s into photography, is on the athletic side from the various hobbies he partakes in, and he must be at least half-aware of his beauty because there’s the occasional pic that shows off his lean, toned arms, which, if you can be frank, is more flattering than the shirtless ones you constantly see. Oh, and he attends the same university as you.

The cherry on top? His bio is simple and upfront:

“Not up for anything serious, but always down for a good time ;)”

You swipe right without hesitation.

“It’s a Match!” flashes instantly at you. Your mouth swings open in disbelief.  

Usually, you’d wait for your matches to message you and play hard-to-get, but not tonight. Tonight, you’re initiating and leading all the conversations, completely driven by your thirst.  

Messaging Jaemin is a breeze. He types with more than half a brain, and he flirts, but it isn’t overwhelming or repulsive. Segueing the current topic, you drag your bottom lip upward as you send the following message:  

so, hypothetically... if one were to have good time with you would tonight work?

Not even twenty seconds later and he replies with:

-wow, dont you go straight to the point -im impressed -but yeah -tonight works ;)

He’s quick to send his address.

-let me know when ur here and ill come get you out front!

Smacking your lips together, you squeal to yourself in the comfort of your home, excited to meet with him, but then a thought hangs over you—this feels a little too good to be true. Horrible scenarios run through your head, so your fingers dash across your phone’s keyboard:

tbh i haven’t really done this b4 so im kinda new to this is it ok if we video call or smth? gotta make sure you’re real and not a serial killer i’m sure you understand 😛

-for sure for sure -totally get it -ive had my fair share of fake girls and serial killers so i feel u 😛

Grateful for his consideration, you rush to rearrange your hair after you send him a Zoom link, hoping you look decent enough to not have him back off from his initial offer. He appears in the video call on his phone with the front-facing camera on a few seconds after you connect.

“Hi,” you chirp.

A corner of his mouth lifts. “Hey.”  

Okay, he’s definitely cuter in real-time than in his pictures.  

“You know, I’m not gonna lie, but I lowkey expected to see a dick or something,” you joke in an attempt to dispel your nervousness.  

“Same,” he chuckles, running a hand through his black hair.

Oh God, he’s not just cute—he’s devastatingly gorgeous.

“So, this is my place...”

Jaemin moves around with his apartment in the background, revealing his living room first. Envy prods you as you note the brick walls, high ceiling windows, and well-appointed furnishings.

Recalling his address, you ask, “How’d you get a place in the heart of the city?”

“Lucked out,” he shrugs. His phone shakes a bit as he’s still moving. “My friend slash roommate—who is at his girlfriend’s place tonight, so we have the place all to ourselves—his parents own the condo and they gave me a friend discount on the rent.”

He finally stands in one place and turns the light on to reveal a room. “And this is my bedroom.”

Nothing out of the ordinary. A desk table with a gaming set-up, in tow with a gamer chair, and a decently-sized bed beside a nightstand.

“Oh, and here’s my closet.” Jaemin’s on the move again as he opens his closet doors. “Just to make sure you don’t think I hide the skins of my past one-nighters in here.”

A bubbly laugh rises from you. “Okay, I didn’t think of that before, but now you’ve planted the seed in my head. Maybe you hide them in the other rooms.”

“Nah, my roommate would kill me if I did.”

Both of you laugh in unison, and you bob your head with puffed cheeks.  

“Okay, it all seems very promising. I’m going to get ready and I’ll guess I’ll see you in a bit, Jaemin.”

“Sounds good,” Jaemin nods, then winks. Although you’re sitting down, he’s still able to get you weak in the knees. “See you soon.”

You end the call and rush to bundle up for the snow starting to come down outside. A twenty-minute train ride later, you’re at the front door of a rustic, industrial apartment complex. After informing Jaemin you’re outside, you glance up at the snowflakes falling from the dark pink-grey sky, anticipating for what comes next.

Sex with a hot guy, what can go wrong?  

So, you must’ve jinxed it because the sex is...  

Unsatisfying. Finished faster than you’d like it to be. Sadly, overall disappointing. If you had to rate it, three out of five stars, at best.

But hey, he came, and you sort of did, and it wasn’t the worst sex you’ve ever had. It half-quenched your dry spell.

And enough happened that it tired you out, leaving you passed out in the handsome stranger’s bed until morning.

In the morning, your eyes slowly flicker, unused to the foreign, sweet scent engulfing you in your bed. Correction: Jaemin’s bed.

Your eyes flicker faster as you glance through the almost wall-sized window. The snow hasn’t let up from last night. On the contrary, it seems like it’s snowing non-stop. You groan at the thought of going home in this weather.

The bed is without Jaemin’s presence as you reach for your phone on the nightstand. 10:36AM and a few notifications greet you. You rub your eyes and start combing through them, rising upward to sit up on the bed.

“Morning. You’re finally up.”

Peering up from your device, Jaemin’s standing by the door with folded arms. His plain sweater and sweatpants match the colour of his hair. The dazzling smile he gives is so contagious, you’re not even conscious of catching one too.  

“Out you go.”

You blink.

Once, twice, and then you tilt your head as you stare blankly at him, uncertain if you heard him correctly.

After a few moments, because you’re not moving an inch, his smile dissipates and he cocks an eyebrow in expectancy. A serious expression rolls over his face.  

Suddenly, Jaemin strolls to the side of the bed and hitches his thumb towards the door.

You definitely heard him right.

And he’s dead-serious.

You replay the video call from last night, dissecting how you thought he was nice and funny and—

Realization dawns on you.

Why would you expect anything more from a two-faced fuck boy?

Still awestruck by the situation, you’re still solid as a statue, so Jaemin takes matters into his own hands and grasps you by your elbow, casually dragging you from his bed like he’s taking out the trash.  

“What the fuck?!” you screech.

“C’mon, let’s go. Out out.”

“My clothes, though!” you protest in the middle of the hallway. He sighs in frustration, scurries to the bedroom, and returns with a small pile in his arms, then continues to drag you to the front door.  

“Are you always this pleasant with your guests the morning after?” you rage, putting on the rest of your clothes by the door. “You don’t even have the decency to offer me tea or coffee?”

“This was a one-night stand, not a bed and breakfast, sunshine,” he says as he watches you put your shoes on. He’s folding his arms again and leaning against the wall, his attitude dripping with smug. If he wasn’t a stranger, you’d punch it off his face. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were new to this, huh?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!”

“It means you’re a borderline virgin who needs to toodle-loo, get going and gone because you’re overstaying your welcome as we speak.”

Finishing putting on your coat, you’re fuming as your jaw hangs at the personal jab over your skills in bed. Jaemin swings the door open and shoves you through it.

“But I’ll admit, it was still nice having sex with you!” he chimes with a sickening grin and a hand on the door.  

“Aw, thanks asshole, wish I could say the same,” you sarcastically reply, resting a palm upon your chest.  

He scoffs. “From what I heard last night, I think I can confidently say that you had a great time.”

Flashbacks replay in your mind of your screaming fest from underneath him. Little did Jaemin actually know—

“You know, for someone who I assume has many one-night stands,” you spit with squinted eyes. “I’m surprised you can’t tell when girls fake it.”

You must’ve hit a sore spot because he grinds his teeth and you could almost see the steam coming out of his ears.

Oh yeah, you’re definitely the winner in this fight.

“Okay, you know what, Merry Christmas and fuck you. Have a great life!”

“Fuck you, dickface. Wishing you a miserable Christmas!”

With a bitter smile, you flip him off as he slams the door in your face.

Carrying a basket filled with dirty clothes, Jaemin’s on the way down to the laundry room in the basement of his apartment with his shoulder scrunched up, squeezing his phone to his ear.

“Bro, she had the audacity to say that I didn’t make her come when she was screaming my God damn ear off—”

As he steps down the short flight of stairs and passes by the foyer area by the main entrance to the building, he notices you’re still here.

“Shit, uh, Jeno,” he mumbles. “I’m gonna have to call you back.”

He stuffs his phone into the pocket of his sweats and calls out to you as he strides closer. “Are you resorting to stalking me by my front door now?”

With crossed arms, you peer over your shoulder, eyes full of bitterness.

“Like I wanna be anywhere near you right now,” you grumble. You jerk your head towards the thick, wooden door. “It’s jammed from the snow.”

The laundry carrier shakes his head and places the basket onto the floor. “A little snow never hurt anyone. You’re probably just too weak.”

Stepping aside and holding out an arm, you signal for him to give it a try.

Jaemin twists the handle and, lo and behold, it doesn’t open. His forehead crinkles as he tries again and again, using more force each time.

Glancing through one of the partially frosted windows adjacent to the sides of the door, he notices the snow has piled enormously high, almost to the height of his chest.

“Well, shit.”  

Reluctantly, Jaemin brings you back to his apartment. You’re technically his guest and if he left you in the foyer to freeze, trouble would surely come his way, whether it be in the form of his landlords (also known as his roommate’s parents) or the police.

Without a word, he settles a spoon in a bowl, a carton of milk, and a box of cereal onto the small kitchen table.

At first, you stare at it venomously in rejection, thinking you can easily last a day without any hand-outs from this son of a bitch, but your stomach roars ferociously three seconds later.

As you chew across from him, you enjoy the company of your phone over him, while he does the same but with a cup of coffee in hand.

After finishing your food, you adamantly place your phone down and lean back into the chair, boring holes into his head.

“Why are you such an asshole?” you seethe observantly.

“Why are you such a bitch?” he retorts, not pulling his gaze away from his phone.

“Because you started it,” you say slowly, stating the obvious.

“No, you.”

You sigh defeatedly at his childish behaviour. The weather apps predict the snow will (hopefully) die down by tomorrow morning, thus you’re officially stuck with him for the next twenty-four hours or so. Your hands rake through your hair.

“Whether we like it or not, the snow isn’t going away until tomorrow. Merry Christmas Eve to us, I guess.”

He’s still glued to his phone. You exhale another sigh.

“Since we’re not getting out of this until then, can we just...” You soften your voice. “Start over?”

His eyes are still on the screen, but from the way his shoulders tense and how he stops scrolling, you know he’s considering your proposition.

“At least call a stalemate over this.” You drift your hand in the air, gesturing between you and him.

Blowing out air and shaking his head, he rests his phone onto the table.

“Fine.”

He crosses his arms, imitating you, and the two of you sit there, staring at each other in a long silence.  

One minute, to be exact.

You’re the one to break the silence game by running your hands over your face, letting out a hybrid of a groan and laugh.

“God, the fact that we had sex makes this kinda awkward, huh?”

Jaemin’s exterior melts slightly, letting out a snicker. He shrugs, “Then let’s just pretend that we didn’t have sex.”

“We can’t just pretend that we didn’t have sex,” you say, holding two upturned palms near your face.

“We did it, it’s done. I’ve seen your penis, you kicked me out, and you labelled me a prude—” You dart a finger towards him. “—which I am far from, by the way. All of those are pretty huge things.”

One of the corners of his mouth raises high. “Are you saying my penis is huge?”

“No, the implication of said penis is huge. Wipe that smirk off your face.”

He stretches an arm, holding an imaginary microphone to your face. “Do you deny that my penis is huge?”

Rolling your eyes, you swat his fist away. “What am I, on trial here?”

“Do you plead the fifth then?”

Annoyed, you roll your eyes again. Why do you get the feeling that you’re probably going to be doing this a lot more today? Another feeling tells you that if you don’t answer his question, he’ll probably pester you until you do.

You tilt your head side to side. “It’s... decently sized.”

“Bigger or smaller than average?”

“Perfect...” His eyes light up. “...ly average.” And a frown rolls over.

He squints his eyes accusingly at your sneer. “Are you lying like you did before about faking it?”

You scoff. “I wasn’t lying about faking it, and I’m not lying now about your average sized dick.”

Jaemin releases a disgruntled grumble and lifts his cup to his face. You notice he likes to take his coffee black and bitter, presumably like his heart.

“So, Miss I’m-Not-A-Prude-and-I’ve-Definitely-Had-Sex-Before.” His eyebrows perk up on the word definitely. “What’s your story? Why the last minute one-night stand?”

Shrugging your shoulders to your ears, you reply, “Haven’t had sex in a while.”

“When’s the last time you had sex?” he asks mid-sip.

“Half a year ago,” you respond nonchalantly, perching your chin into your palms.

Jaemin immediately chokes, almost spraying the coffee through his nose.

“Half a year?!” he gasps. It takes him a few hits to his chest to dispel the coughing. “Six months?!”

“Wow, you can count!” you exclaim in a condescending tone. You change the position of your hands so that your chin is now atop of the back of your curled fingers and tilt your head. “Can you also spell?”

“As a premed student, I can assure you that I am capable of doing both,” he says with a slight strain due to the coughing fit. The humble brag brings on another eye roll. Of course he’s a premed student with the attitude he wears.

“It’s just—” He clears his throat and swallows the last bit of coffee stuck in his windpipe. “—The last time I had a dry spell was for like, a month, tops.”

So the fuckboy gets laid way more on the daily than you expect. You’re torn between being envious over how much action he gets in comparison to you, or remorseful, since you’re now just one of the many notches on his bedpost.

No matter, sarcasm is always the best defence mechanism.

“Good for you, Jaemin. I’m sure you’re very proud of that.”

There’s an awkward beat. His head hangs for a moment while his thumbs stroke the sides of his cup. A strange pinch of guilt occurs. Did you overstep an unspoken line? But then he drags himself back to reality in a heartbeat.

Jaemin brings the cup to his mouth again, mumbling, “At least the sex on your part makes more sense now; you’re rusty as fuck.”

Completely aware of what he said, you trash your guilt entirely and narrow your eyes. “What did you just say?”

Following a long sip, he hums, “Mmm, nothing.” Soon after, he stands up with his cup.

“I’m gonna go game now. Feel free to watch Netflix on the TV and stay in the living room.”

As if you had anywhere else to go...  

He begins to walk towards his room as you mutter under your breath, “I’m not a dog.”

“Says the bitch,” he pipes up, taking you by surprise.  

“Thought we had a stalemate?!” you shout, leaning your head forward as you watch him entering his room.  

“Doesn’t mean we’re on peaceful terms!” he sing-shouts.

The flinging of the closed door echoes throughout the apartment.

Regret surges through you. You just had to choose a fuckboy fluent in assholery and end up incidentally being isolated with him during a snow storm on Christmas Eve.

You wonder if you can handle being around him for the next twenty-four hours without killing him first.

During the afternoon, you’re on the living room couch, playing a show as mostly background noise while you’re on your phone. At one point, your phone unsurprisingly begins to die and you tread over to Jaemin’s door to ask for a charger and if you can also take a shower. He’s still annoyed by your existence, but at least he hands you a charger and lets you know where the extra towels are.

Stepping into the living room with the towel in your hand as you dry your hair off, you peer out the large living room window and see nothing but white engulfing the streets and buildings as far as the eye can see.

You pray the snow will eventually stop as soon as possible so you can head back home.

By the middle of the afternoon, Jaemin emerges from his bedroom and shocks you by plopping down on the opposite end of the living room couch from where you’re sitting.

“Bored?” you ask, eyes fixated on the TV screen.

“Nope,” he replies, popping the p as he says it. His slings his arm around the top of the couch.

“Gotta keep an eye on you in case you do something.” Turning away from the screen, he faces you and motions circles with his hand. “You’ve got a little crazy in you, I can feel it.”

You quickly glance over at him, but try to refocus on the TV. “Need I remind you that you’re the crazy one, dragging me out of the apartment right as I woke up.”

That compels him to turn his whole body towards you. “Well, you’re the one who wanted a last-minute one-night stand.”

You match his stance. “As if I’m the first girl in your bed to stay in the morning?”

“Actually, yeah.” He aggressively tilts his head to one side. “Most girls leave before I even get up. The other percentage don’t fight me when I ask for them to go, so it looks like you’re the odd one out.”  

You press your lips together, refusing to admit that maybe he has a point, under the assumption that he’s telling the truth.

Jaemin twists his body back to the screen and adds, “I make it very clear on my profile that I don’t do morning afters, sweetheart.”

And you agree that his profile is clear about his intentions, but that doesn’t mean you can condone his shitty behaviour.

“Well, sorry that I expected just an ounce of respect instead of getting kicked to the curb after you stuck your dick in me,” you grumble, shifting back to the show and crossing your arms.

“Morning afters lead to attachments, and attachments lead to feelings, and feelings lead to relationships,” he says the string of words clinically, as if it’s a mantra that he lives by.

Your eyebrows knit together as you whip your head towards him once more, studying him.

“And what’s so wrong with that?”

Deliberately averting your gaze, Jaemin grates his tongue between his teeth, a slight tsk audibly heard, and his chin juts out. There’s definitely a story behind his ways. He huffs and changes the subject.  

“Seriously?” He holds a hand out. “You’re watching this trashy show?”

Squinting your eyes at him, you could probably interrogate him further, but you decide otherwise.  

“It may be trashy,” you concur, looking at the TV. “But it’s my trashy comfort show.”

Following an over-the-top acted out scene between the show’s main love interests, Jaemin shoots up from the couch.

“Yeah, no, I can’t handle this. Can we either put on something else or game or something?”

“Why don’t you go back to your room to game, Mr. I’m-Not-Bored?”

“Like I said, I gotta keep an eye on you,” he says while bending over in front of the TV, already setting up the Playstation. He tosses you a controller as he strides to his side of the couch again.

He mumbles to himself, “Need to make sure you don’t go crazy from the lack of human interaction.”

Either Jaemin is selfish and only looking out for himself, or he wants to make sure you’re not feeling lonely in a stranger’s home.

Likely the first reason, you deduce—because why would a guy like Jaemin care about a mere one-night stand?

Admittedly, you’re not the best at games, especially at fighting ones. You can comprehend the move lists, but you like to live by button smashing the controller and repeating moves over and over.  

So it’s hilarious when you beat Jaemin every round with your surprisingly fruitful technique.

“Okay, this is bullshit,” Jaemin complains, sticking his tongue out in irritation. His ass is currently being handed to him on a plate again since you’re almost done killing his character off. “You must be lying to me; you have to be a pro player or some shit.”

Jaemin’s health bar is dangerously low as your character jabs his with a sword. He winces out loud and you snicker.

“Why do you think I always lie about everything?! Dude, you have serious trust issues,” you joke before you steal the opportunity to slice his character. One more hit and he’s done for.

“I do not! I just—nooo!”

You rise to your feet and pump your arms in the air, turning in circles in joy over yet another win.

Sulking, Jaemin eyes your little dance from his end on the couch, but as he watches you more, a feeling balloons in his chest. Something he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Finally coming down from your post-win high, you spot an emerging grin from the corner of your eye, making you pause.    

“What?” you eye him suspiciously.

Your suspicion pops the sensation in his chest and, like a fish out of water, his eyes widen and his grin melts away.

“Nothing, uhm.” He ruffles his eyebrows and palms the back of his neck, quickly facing the TV. “Let’s go one more round and then we can switch to another game—”

Suddenly, the TV and surrounding lights switch off. Both of you waver your eyes, anticipating for them to come back on, but they unfortunately don’t.  

Jaemin rushes over to the window. When he swivels his head towards you, his face darkens.

“Looks like it’s at least the whole block. The streetlights are out too.”

Without another word, he dashes to the linen closet and brings back several blankets. He calmly explains that there won’t be heat since it’s connected to the electricity, so it’d be best to keep warm with the extra layers.

Not wanting to scare you, he doesn’t add the fact that due to the huge windows in the apartment, more unnecessary cold air will come in, but you’re already cognizant of it from your own logic and since the remaining heat dissolves rapidly.

You groan and retreat into the massive blanket over your shoulders, turtling your head.

You can’t believe you’re going to fucking die in this asshole’s apartment on Christmas Eve.

On the ends of the couch in your makeshift blanket jackets, both of you attend to your phones for a while.

From what people and the news outlets are saying, it’s not just the block, but the whole city grid is out. You frantically text your friends, giving updates on how you are and half-jokingly telling them that you’re going to die with your dreadful one-night stand. Some time passes and Jaemin tosses his phone  off to one side.  

“Well, since there’s nothing else to do and we should probably conserve our phone batteries—” You glance up at him from your phone and pout. Slowly nodding in agreement, you toss it aside too. “—why don’t we play a game of ‘I’ll-Give-You-Pointers-on-How-to-be-Better-in-Bed’?”

A smile burgeons on his irritatingly handsome face and your eyes roll. At this point, you wonder if the reaction is conditioned into you. “It’ll be my early Christmas gift to you.”

“Wow, so thoughtful, how could I ever thank you?” You drag the blanket closer to your chest in false gratitude.

You think for a serious moment if you really want to go through with this. Hearing Jaemin run his mouth on you unwarranted is already painful, but to give him the go-ahead to do so? Especially criticizing your skills in bed?  

You blow out a sigh, noting the slightly visible cloud. You’re grateful Jaemin has thick, downy blankets.  

Well, if you’re going to die, may as well know what went wrong, right?

“Fine, but if we’re playing this game, we have to say everything honestly and take the criticism we get.” You point a stern finger. “No rebuttals, just acceptance.”

“Wait.” Jaemin crinkles his face in genuine confusion as his hand peeks out from his blanket.

“You have things to criticize about me in bed?”

Your lips tremble before you burst into laughter. Displeasure is on Jaemin’s tight-lipped face as you laugh for a while, almost keeling over in your blanket ball onto the hardwood floor. “How conceited are you, oh, my fucking God?”

He slices his hand through the air. “I’ve never had any complaints—”

“Because you’re too busy focusing on your own orgasm, you selfish dickwad,” you say as your laughter dies down.  

He sits in his snit for a few more moments until he gets over it.

“Fine, fine,” he huffs. Jaemin knows he’s not going to enjoy this, but he’s the one who suggested it. He can’t back out now. “Let’s just get this over with, you go first.”

With your blanket held by your chest, you hop off your end of the couch and shuffle over in front of him where he’s seated. Beaming, you begin.

“Let’s start with foreplay.” Jaemin’s eyes light up with confidence, thinking he’s at least decent with that. You crush his expression as your lips purse and you shake your head.

“Non-existent.”

“What do you mean?! I kissed you as you took off your clothes.”

You stick your free hand out from your blanket, extending your index finger.

“One: you only kissed my lips. You know, there are other parts of me to kiss, like, I don’t know, my neck, my arms, my shoulders.”

You extend another finger. “And, two: it’s weird to not help someone take off their clothes. Like you’re in a super rush to get somewhere or something—”

“We’re fucking!” he cuts in sharply. “This is a one-night stand, not a relationship.”

Closing your eyes and dropping your head, you pinch the bridge of your nose. You sigh in exaggeration.

“Thought we agreed no rebuttals...” you softly sing-say.  

Jaemin’s head sinks a little into his blanket. “Sorry.”

Removing your hand, you shrug. “Maybe there’s some rule that I don’t know about one-night stands, so this could be on me.”

You start to aimlessly tread back and forth in front of him, dragging the blanket along too. “But fuck, foreplay is foreplay for a reason. You work your way up to the heat of the moment and it makes sex much better, regardless if you’re in a relationship with the person or not.”

“Next point.” You stop walking and direct your focus on him. Pointing your finger and looking him dead in the eye, you ask, “Do you know what a vagina is?”

He snorts with a simper. “Uhhh, is this a rhetorical question?”

“No, I’m legit asking,” you say with a raised eyebrow and snarky smile. “Because when you went down on me, all you flicked your tongue at was the outside of it, also called the labia if you didn’t know.”

“I’m premed, of course I—”

“Which is great! But you didn’t go any deeper nor did you go near my clit.”

You thrust your finger again. “Do you also know what that is?”

“Yes...” he groans with the flickering eyelids.

You swipe your arm through the air. “Maybe make use of it, and not only when you go down on girls. Even during sex, touching it is great.”

“And lastly,” you continue. “I’ll be honest here, you have a decent dick.”

Jaemin waggles his finger. “So you were lying before—”

“I wasn’t lying,” you retort firmly. “But anyways, you’ve got the stuff, but why don’t you put it to better use?”

With the following words, you attempt to gesture with your body and execute moves as graphic visuals. Jaemin giggles at the sight.

“Vary the speeds and the angle, don’t just slam it in me and go crazy fast from the get-go. Build up to the climax. Jesus, I couldn’t even get close to coming because you’re like a jackhammer from start to finish.”

When you finally finish, Jaemin’s giggles morph into hollow laughs. Frustration is blatant on your face, pondering if he even absorbed a single word you said.  

After he calms down, he asks, “Are you done?”

You mumble, “Yeah, I think so.”

The two of you switch places. He shuffles onto his feet with his blanket while you sit back on the couch.

Jaemin pulls the blanket across the floor as he ambles. “Okay, your head game is decent—”

“Excuse you, my head game is strong.”

“Uh-uh, rebuttal,” he points out.  

You sigh. Pinching your fingers together, you drag the invisible zipper across your mouth, then wave your hand, allowing him to resume.

“Your head game is decent. You definitely can deepthroat, but—” He mirrors you from before and extends his index finger.

“One: this happened only a few times, but your teeth scraped against my dick, which is why I assumed you were a borderline virgin.”

You fume silently at the accusation, attempting to not speak up with a heap of rebuttals. But he wasn’t wrong—if you teethed on his dick, that’s a classic virgin move.

“But that’s okay, because we already established that you’re just rusty.” Jaemin flashes you a fake comforting smile as he continues to pace. You flash him one back.

“And two—” He holds another finger out. “Don’t be scared to use your hands and stroke me. Give my dick some love. If it’s too wet, just wipe your hands on the bed or something.”

“Okay, duly noted,” you hum. “Next.”

“Don’t be scared to touch me.”

“I touched you so much during—”

He shoots you a glare. You roll your mouth inward, your lips disappearing instantly.

“Your hands were mostly on the sheets, which is hot, but guys like to be felt up too.”

The attractive individual peers up for a second, thinking to himself. “Even hotter when a girl feels herself up during the fucking, but that’s beside the point. Baby steps, just remember to touch the other person.”

Jaemin does a full-stop and faces you.

“And just... don’t fake it.” Distress is evident in his pout. You hate to admit it, but it’s a little cute. He raises an arm and jerks it in the air. “Why do girls fake it?”

“Because guys with egos like you can’t handle criticism,” you reply bluntly.  

“What are we doing, having this conversation, hm?”

“We wouldn’t be having this conversation if it didn’t snow in and keep us here together.” You peel a hand away and gesture to the window. “If I walked out of here this morning, you would’ve just fucked the next girl the same.”

He defends himself, “Faking it just feeds our egos.”

“Yeah, well, if I told you afterwards that I didn’t come, what would you do?”

“Try to make you come in other ways?”

Shaking your head, you scoff. “Guys like you aren’t that considerate.”

“You’re right.” He assents, holding his pointer finger against his chest. “Because guys like me aim to please.”

A brilliant thought leaps in his mind and Jaemin gasps. You can only assume bad things from the wicked smile he sends your way.  

“Why don’t we try it again?”

Perplexed, you squint at him.

“Try what again...?”

“Sex,” he says enthusiastically.

You blankly stare at him.

“You’ve gotta be joking,” you deadpan.

“I mean, there’s nothing else to do and it’ll keep us warm.” 

You continue to stare at him until you groan.

“Oh, my God...” Your blanket droops a bit off your shoulders as you drag your palms across your face. “I cannot believe I’m stuck in this snowstorm with you out of all people...”

Sitting next to you, Jaemin persistently reasons with you. “Think of it also as another learning experience for the future partners we’ll have.”

“Yeah, if we don’t die first!” you shriek.

“We’re not going to die,” Jaemin replies in a mocking tone and a dart of his tongue.  

Outside the window, the snow seems to have slowed down, but not by much.  

God, Jaemin better be fucking right because you want to live to see another day.  

“Fine,” you mutter and match his gaze. “But we have to be vocal throughout the whole thing. Say whatever’s on our mind.”

“Fine,” he agrees to your terms. He produces the same wicked smile again. “But can we film it then? So we can study it after?”

You fire him a death glare that melts his face off, even in the frigid atmosphere.

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” he says, waving his hand.

They say that jokes are half-meant true, but you think Jaemin fully meant it. Still in your blanket jackets, Jaemin snags your free hand and leads you to his room.

“You gotta give me credit for trying, though.”

“No.” You shake your head with an unwilling smile creeping on the edge of your lips. On second thought, maybe the joke was a little funny, but you still stand by your opinion that he’s the most annoying person in the world. “I don’t think I will.”

“Thank God Chenle has so many scented candles...”

On the edge of Jaemin’s bed, huddled by the blanket, you watch him light up several large jars, placing them on his nightstand and desk in hopes to brighten the room. It’s already late afternoon, but one could mistaken it for nighttime with the muddy sky due to the snow.

“Is Chenle your roommate?”

“Yeah,” Jaemin answers with a slight shiver, igniting the last candle near the bedside. He removed his blanket when he went to nab the matches and candles. “His girlfriend gets free ones from work, so she always gives him a shit ton, even though he never uses them.”

With a glowing hue against his face, he blows out the match. He makes his way to you, a cocky grin plastered on him, as he says, “Guess we’re making use of them now, though.”

Before you can even respond, Jaemin gets right down to business—sitting beside you on the mattress, he palms your face and drags you in for a kiss. You softly yelp, but immediately reciprocate.

The cover falls off your body as you reach to touch him, fingers drifting over his solid arms.

You don’t want to stroke his large ego, and maybe it’s because you haven’t had anyone else on you in a while, but Jaemin’s kisses are something else.

The cushiony pair of lips always executes enough pressure against your mouth, increasing and decreasing on command in perfect tandem and timing. His hands hover over your waist and the nape of your neck, fingers sinking into your hot skin.  

His mouth trails downward the side of your neck. You crane your head back, indulging in his caresses as soft moans trickle out.

He gently signals for you to recline back and lay onto the mattress, moving the sea of blankets aside. Inclined on his elbow, almost atop of you, his cool fingers glide under your top layers, his thumb stroking against your stomach.

Pulling away from your body, he tugs on the ends of your clothes. You rise from the bed to better the angle for him to discard of them.

The hairs on your skin are standing on end from the frigid air, but you’re too focused on Jaemin’s mouth migrating over your upper arm and your bra-covered chest to care. Without notice, he stuffs a cup of the bra to one side and takes your bosom into his mouth.

Air’s seized from your lungs and your core contracts from the pleasure. Your fingers tug on Jaemin’s luscious locks and his free hand squeezes your unoccupied breast.    

After a few twirls of his tongue and a gentle drawing of his teeth on the pointed tip, he mumbles hotly into your chest while he thumbs your other nipple, “Foreplay still non-existent?”

“It’s better, I guess,” you sigh with fluttering eyes. His chuckling reverberates against your cleavage, a sign of amusement from your obstinacy. A gasp pierces the room as Jaemin repeats his actions onto the other breast.

He aids you in taking off the rest of your clothes and, obviously aware of your goosebumps and shuddering, tells you to get underneath the blankets while he strips himself.

Under the toasty ocean of layers, despite how both of you are bare-boned and how easy it is to jump into the main act, Jaemin purposefully continues to prolong the foreplay. Side by side, your lips meld endlessly; your legs and hands are intertwined in an amorous pretzel.

Jaemin ensures he doesn’t leave any part of you untouched—the pads of fingers virtually graze over every inch of your body. Each grip and drag of his digits sends you in a frenzy. Your chest is pressed into him and your eyes are blinded with desire.

In the back of your mind, you think about how you were right about foreplay working up to the heat of the moment—literally, because you’re dripping, he’s hard, and you two have embraced so much that you don’t need the blankets anymore.  

On the other hand, you wonder if Jaemin was right about skipping foreplay, because with every whisper of each other’s name, the intimacy rises immensely. You don’t know him, and neither him with you, but you’re both freely drowning in one another in a plane beyond the lust.

Although the room’s beginning to smell of a mix of all the scented candles, Jaemin hones in and drinks in your sweet aroma and your entirety behind his hazy eyes and already tousled hair. All of a sudden, one drag of his fingers over a particular sensitive spot on your body makes you giggle.

“I’m ticklish over there.”

“You mean right—” He drums his fingers over the area again. “—here?”

With a toothy grin, he generates more suffering from you and you begin to lively howl. Soon enough, you beg him to stop.

“You’re such an asshat, c’mon, let me live!”

When he ceases, his head hangs over yours and your gazes connect.

The same feeling blooms in his chest from before in the living room.

He gulps as his eyes waver over your face, unknowingly tracing your beautiful features and etching them into his memory.

Your starry eyes. Your glowing aura. Your everything.

You barely register the change in his expression because he quickly tramples on his moment of weakness by kissing you passionately.

Jaemin whips the blankets aside as he lowers himself between your legs. Your eyes are fixated on him, matching his stare, until he starts to devour you by swiping against your lustrous folds. Your back bows, and, following a few more licks, Jaemin makes a point of his knowledge of the vagina by spreading your lips and ravishing your pussy, tongue penetrating deeply.

Rippled moans release in harmony with your undulating chest. You swear you’re getting more wet, too wet, likely making it overwhelming for Jaemin, but he’s eagerly lapping every drop up.  

“How’s that?” he inquires with a grin, hovering over your trembling nether lips. His mouth is evidently glossy, even under the dim lighting.

“Good,” you pant in the most nonchalant tone you can muster up. “Very good-ahhh—”

Jaemin kindly interrupts you by tonguing your clit as he fingers your sex deeply, shattering your fake indifference.

“Move your tongue up more,” you direct, creasing your eyebrows in despair. He follows your direction, and droning moans ensue.

Jaemin’s immersed in your pleasure, but also adding to his own. The more he laps up your wetness, the more he grinds his length against the bed, aching to be inside of you.

Your desire pulses faster, contracting tighter against his fingers, body winding tensely by the second.

“Fuck, Jaemin,” you whine, leaning your head to one side with a parted mouth. “I’m close.”

He draws back and temporarily replaces his tongue with his thumb.

“Good,” he pants, cocking his head to one side. His eyes are filled with determination. “Because I’m not stopping until you come at least two more times tonight.”

You exhale a light laugh. “That’s ambiti-ohgodohgod—”

His tongue works wonders on your clit once more, so much that he has to brace your bucking hips.

Okay, maybe Jaemin did learn a thing or two and actually listened to what you said during your critique.

But now it’s time to demonstrate to him what you’ve learned.

You don’t need much of a break to catch your breath, nor do you want to immediately freeze due to inactivity, so you pull Jaemin in for an intense kiss, tongue dipping into the remnants of your own nectar, then beckon for him to take your former place on the bed.

Perched on the bottom of your feet, you’re on one side of Jaemin, lackadaisically fisting his prominence. After a few strokes, you gradually swallow his inches, keeping in mind to relax your jaw and to not rush in order to avoid any potential teething. You do this to prove yourself worthy of giving head, but also in spite, because you absolutely do not need Jaemin to brand you a virgin again.  

You read his quiet groans and his long fingers running lazily through your hair as a positive sign and advance further.

Carefully, you rest your tongue beneath the underside of his cock and bob your head, licking him until he’s sopping with your saliva. His grip in your hair grows in strength as his length reaches the end of your throat, his groans becoming more and more drawn-out.

A needy whimper leaves him as you suddenly withdraw. Dribbles of your spit follow, and you wipe it off with the back of your hand.  

“How am I doing?” you glow in a pant, lazily stroking the doused shaft.

He simply nods with half-lidded eyes, barely able to look at you. “Yeah.”

You snicker at him in his breathless position, a prickle of pride running through your spine over the fact that you blew his mind as much as you blew his dick.

“Use your words, Jaemin.”

Teasingly, your fingers curl around his blunt head, soothing the sensitive tip and sending jolts throughout him.

“Fuck—” he pulls his bottom lip upward. “Awesome. You’re doing awesome.”

“Anything to critique?”

“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head restlessly. You revel a bit more in having the upper hand on him a little while longer. You grip him tighter and hasten your speed, leaving him gasping for air.

“Am I still rusty?”

“Nope, nope,” he croaks, voice rising to a whine. “Definitely not rusty.”

“You sure?” His cockiness has transferred over to you.

“Yes, yes—fuck, slow down, please,” Jaemin begs.    

Granting his wish, you abate your rhythm and free his inches from your touch.

You wipe your hands on the sides of the bed while Jaemin rummages through the drawer of his nightstand and hastily rolls over the rubber over himself before he prepares to enter the body beneath his.  

Recalling your advice, Jaemin mindfully starts off slow. You sigh blissfully in sync to his thrusts. He adjust himself, attempting another angle, and you draw in air between your teeth.

“There, there—“

Jaemin’s quick-witted and keeps at it, plunging a bit more vigorously. Out of habit, your hands grasp onto the bedsheets, but you wittingly attach them to his frame. Hands grazing his neck, his firm pecs, and his taut muscles.  

“Touch-touch my stomach,” he orders in a hush.

You hands follow through and feel up the flexed valley of his abs. Feeling up evolves into desperate gripping and even the slight dragging of your nails.

“Your abs are so fucking hot,” you state thoughtlessly, eyes eating up the view alongside his cock disappearing in and out of you. “Jesus, fuck.”

“Yeah?” he rasps with that devilish smirk of his. God, you want to smack it off him, but not right now—not when you’re reaching euphoria. “You’re not just saying that?”

Oh, you’ve definitely stroked his ego now, but there’s no turning back. Truth spills from you on a whim.

“You’re a fucking masterpiece,” you gasp acutely.

You’re starting to wither away, yet, as if they have a life of their own, your hands drift away from him and find a new home atop your breasts.

“You make me feel so good, Jaemin...”

Jaemin’s eyes go wide. His mouth hangs at the lewdness of you touching yourself.

“Fuck, holy shit.”

His gaze doesn’t leave your ecstatic face or humming body for a second as you knead your breasts and tweak your nipples between your fingers. Your back arches further when Jaemin deepens his sweet, fulfilling thrusts. He’s holding himself back, not wanting to end this beautiful deed just yet.

The stimulation bursts over your body, both from your own doing and Jaemin’s.  

You plead, “Faster, please, faster.”

And he complies, but he also rubs your bundle of nerves, causing a tight knot in you to build up and your shallow moans transform into heavy screams. You clasp onto his back and claw at the protruding shoulder blades.  

“I’m-I’m—”

You clench, both with your core and your nails digging into him, but Jaemin’s unrelenting, capturing your second peak for the evening.

Instead of coming after you, he shockingly veers lower and closer to you and curbs his pace.

“Was that real?”

You respond with an exhausted nod. Oddly, the smile he shows this time isn’t arrogant, but warm and teetering the line of tenderness. His lips fuse with yours before they stray towards your neck. The passion stews as he sucks your tits, all the while lunging laxly into you.  

With an obscene pop!, Jaemin removes himself from your nubs.

“Ready for the last round?”

His fast thrusts, hitting you precisely in the best spot, cloud your already weakened logic, deterring you from making any response.    

Perspiration is blatant on both individuals. For him, his forehead glistens gorgeously with his damp hair. For you, the back of your bent knees are gluing together. Your bodies are about to pass out, but you both persevere until the end.

As you convulse and perish together in beautiful agony, coincidentally enough, the bulbs in the room and in the streets leap to radiance.

Together, you collapse onto the bed side by side, panting heavily and laughing.

“Told you we weren’t going to die.”

You turn your head to see Jaemin looking at you with a cheeky grin. In retaliation, you stick your tongue out.

By nighttime, it’s finally stopped snowing outside. However, the streets won’t be cleared until morning, at the very least.

But... you’re surprisingly okay with that.

In a turn of events, the sex inexplicably makes the two of you warm up to each other. There still is targeted banter and tension between you, lingering from before, but it’s less hostile and more playful.

During a fancy Christmas Eve dinner of microwavable pizzas, you poke fun at each other’s majors and discuss your respective hobbies in depth, especially his love for photography. Jaemin even asks if he can take a picture of you, claiming that the kitchen lighting actually looks nice on someone for once.  

“Is that how you collect the memory of your one-night stands? Instead of hanging their skins in your closet, you sweet-talk your way and keep all the photos of them?” you joke, referring to the video call from yesterday night. It feels like an eternity ago, but snowstorms tend to do that.

He chuckles behind the camera as he snaps a photo of you scrunching your face cutely.

“Yeah, but you’re the first one who has clothes on,” he says, glancing down at the photo on the camera roll.  

“Ugh, gross,” you cringe and take a sip of tea.

Jaemin doesn’t add anything further. He leaves out the fact that he never keeps any traces of his one-night stands, that you’re the first girl he’s taken a picture of in a while.  

After a few hours of more talking and even some gaming with one another, sleep is much needed. Jaemin offers an extra toothbrush and a sweater and pair of sweats to sleep in. You’re facing each other on his bed, noses almost touching.  

“It’s been a while since I haven’t had sex with a girl before I slept next to them,” he whispers, adjusting himself comfortably. The side of his face rests on his piled hands. “It’s kinda nice.”

You cover your mouth as you yawn, then lay your hand back under your head, reflecting the same position as Jaemin.

“You know, it might be my sleepiness talking, but maybe you’re not the worst person in the world to be stuck with during a snowstorm.”

A lovely chuckle echoes in your ear. “I’m glad you’ve had a change of heart.”

After a few moments, your eyes are fluttering to a close until he softly calls out your name.

“Hm?” you stir awake, but not by much.

“Do you...?”

Jaemin doesn’t know what’s gotten to him, doesn’t quite understand why the defences he built for so long are crumbling down in only a day of knowing you.  

And yet, something urges him to give it a chance.

Blowing out a shaky sigh, he anxiously intertwines his fingers with yours. You hum softly at the action and a small smile blooms on your face.

“Do you want to go on a date with me sometime?”

“Hm?” His question doesn’t take you aback as much as you would be if you were fully awake. But even in your drowsy state, you have quips in hand. “Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, wants to go on a date?”

“Yeah,” he replies gently, brushing your loose hair out of your face.

Another yawn. “I thought you said you don’t want feelings and relationships and all that shit.”

His fingers trace your pretty jawline and shrugs. “One date doesn’t mean we’re going to be in a relationship, I’m sure you know that.”

You pause for a good two seconds, but the two seconds feel like forever for Jaemin.

“Mmm, fine. One date, just one.” You barely hold up your pointer finger. “And only because it’s Christmas tomorrow. ‘Tis the season to be giving...”

Relief washes over Jaemin in the form of a smile. Embracing the blatant feeling in his chest this time, he plants a light kiss on your nose and wishes you sweet dreams, even though you’ve already fallen soundly asleep.  

Sunlight pours over your eyes on Christmas morning.

Déjà vu peculiarly creeps up on you, but the only thing that’s the same as yesterday is waking up in Jaemin’s bed.

He’s next to you this time, deep in his peaceful slumber, instead of waiting for you to leave by his doorframe. The snow has finally stopped, and you think you hear the faint noises of snow plows outside. You inhale deeply and also notice the faded aroma from all the scented candles from last night.

The scenes of yesterday flicker across your mind. The incredible sex. The talking. The dinner. The interlocking of his fingers with yours.

The date he asked you out on.

You stare at him, watching him sleep with a sense of content.

Turning your body, you routinely check your phone, which is charging beside his. You have a slew of Merry Christmas texts from several chats and a few private messages from your friends.

Your attention falls on Jaemin’s phone when it lights up with a notification, likely texts from his friends and family too.

But that’s not what you’re focusing on.

Your heart sinks at the sight of his lockscreen.

It’s a picture of him and a girl kissing.

A twinge emerges in your chest and twists harder and harder.

Jaemin being a fuckboy, you can respect. People can do whatever they want with their lives.

But to cheat?

That’s unforgivable, and a true sin if there ever was one.

You scramble to dash out of there, careful not to make any noises in fear of waking Jaemin up. However, Jaemin’s sensitive to the sounds of the front door, so he rouses awake. His eyes flit open, noticing how you’re gone. He then sees his phone blowing up and adds two and two together.

With his phone in hand, Jaemin rushes to get on a coat and stuffs his feet into his boots, not giving a shit that he’s wearing his thin pajamas in the coldness. He’s bounding down the flight of stairs and onto the bright, white wonderland of the streets.

He swivels his head and catches sight of you almost past down the block, slowly trekking through the thick snow. Jaemin sprints, as much as he can, and hops towards you.  

He yells your name, making others on the street turn, but you don’t. You continue forward without looking back.

“Wait! I can explain!”

You’re trying to gain speed, but cardio isn’t your friend. Thankfully for Jaemin, it’s a close friend for him.

“I don’t wanna fucking hear it, Jaemin,” you grunt, hearing the rapid crunching of his shoes coming closer. “Get lost.”

“No, listen to me for a second.”

The boyish man grasps you by the arm and turns you around. You throw his arm away from you and he holds his hands in the air, letting you know that he respects your space. He drops his hands and sees that you’re seething, even worse than you were when he kicked you out yesterday.

“How are you going to explain your lockscreen with you kissing your fucking girlfriend?! Hm?”

“Ex,” he pants in clarification. “Ex-girlfriend.”

Your eyebrows mesh together in utter confusion.

“Okay? That doesn’t make me feel any better, knowing that you’re still hung up on your ex.”

Jaemin shakes his head and rakes a hand through his hair. You note the large clouds he exhales and how he’s barely wearing any clothes. A tinge of sympathy passes through you, wanting to give him some of your clothes for extra layers, but you smother that quickly in your state of rage.  

“I’m not hung up on her. Remember you asked me yesterday why I don’t want girls to stay the next morning?”

You cock your head impatiently, as if saying, “Yeah.”

“Well, I don’t want to attach myself to girls. I can’t. I...”

He lowers his head to one side. Shutting his eyes, a long puff emits from his mouth.

“She cheated on me.”

The snow plows in the distance can’t compare to the pumping of your heart in your ears. All the feelings you felt in the last day, but especially in the last fifteen minutes, jumble together in your head, making you feel uneasy and unsure of what to exactly feel or comprehend of the situation.  

But you do know one thing, despite the fact that you two barely know each other, the pained look on his face is real—that this is the untold story behind his ways.  

Jaemin lifts his head and holds out his phone for emphasis. “The lockscreen serves as a constant reminder that dating and feelings will and can fuck me up.”

Carefully, he steps a little closer to you and slowly cups your face in his shaking hands. You don’t pull away nor is there the same anger from moments before, so he daintily runs his thumbs over your cheeks.

“Until you showed me yesterday that maybe I’m willing to give it all another shot. Risk it all for fuck knows what, but you make it look like it’s worth it.”

He continues his ramble after adjusting some of your hair from the ongoing breeze.

“Sure, it’s Christmas today, but I don’t want you to say yes to going on a date with me just because it is. I want you to say yes because maybe you like spending time with me just as much as I like to spend it with you.”

You’re completely disoriented—your eyes are shifting everywhere but his eyes and your lips are quivering with no words coming out. He sighs understandingly. 

“Look, I know you’re probably having second thoughts and you don’t have to give me an answer right now. Think on it for as much time as you need, but I want you to know that I genuinely like you and I want to go on an actual date with you.”

He peels his hand away from your face and raises it into the air as if taking an oath.

“I, Na Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, will devote to monogamy once again if it means I can date you.”

His hands grab yours, kisses the back of them, and then he presses one kiss onto your icy cheek prior to walking away.

“Merry Christmas,” he says with a sad smile. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

Later that evening at your large family’s Christmas party, you take another dreadful gulp of your wine.

It’s the happy holiday season, but why does everyone feel the need to stick their nose in your dating life? Well, really, a lack there of.

“Why are you still single?” Layers of their voices resound the same question in your head. You take another swig.

Potential unsaid answers that you kept to yourself fly around as you swish the drink in your glass.  

Because you choose to be.

Okay, not really, but it’s the easiest answer.  

Because you haven’t found the right guy to get you back in the game.

What does that even mean? What makes the right guy even right?

The right guy? It’s someone who makes you laugh, someone who gives as good as they can take it, someone who wants you just as much as you do.

The cogs move in your head as you take one more sip before you finally come to the conclusion—  

Because you didn’t find the right guy until last night.

Despite the mess of today and yesterday morning, you realize that Jaemin is... actually sort of sweet. Annoying, yes, but he keeps you on your toes. It’s a plus that he’s easy on the eyes, but it’s a bigger plus that he’s even easier to talk to.

And if he can find it in his scorched heart to trust you, you can find it in your heart to trust him too.  

You quickly say your good-byes to your family and let them know you have other plans with friends tonight.

As the Uber rolls up to his apartment building, you realize you probably should’ve messaged him on Tinder, but it’s worth a shot to see if he’s home. Anyways, impulsiveness is a controlling entity, as evident from your Christmas Eve Eve’s adventure.

And in retrospect, perhaps Jaemin was the perfect pick of the crop after all.  

Someone’s entering the building and lets you in behind them. You take the stairs two at a time and hear booming music coming from his floor. At first, you assume it’s from other apartments, but it’s all coming from one—his.

Without a thought, your knuckle taps the door.  

A handsome figure that’s definitely not Jaemin opens the door. Behind him, you see a group of young men scattered around the living room, and some have a few girls tucked under their arms.

The man eyes you up and down with a spark in his eye. He’s not Jaemin, but he surely reminds you of him.

“And who might you be?” he asks.

“Who’s at the door, Jeno?” An unknown male voice hollers in a high pitch from the couch. He’s one of the guys with a girl attached to him.

You blink. “Uhm, I’m—”

“She’s with me!” Jaemin shoves the flirty stranger aside and tugs you by your wrist, making headway to his bedroom. He flips the light switch on and the door clicks shut.

“What are you doing h—”

You cut him off with a kiss.

An innocent one, at first, with hints of alcohol on each other’s lips. Your arms wrap around the other and the passion increases with the mingling of your tongues, each party tasting and confirming the specific drinks you both consumed tonight.  

Jaemin forces himself to pull away and presses his forehead against yours. “Did you just come all the way here to kiss me, or...?”

“Maybe I came over to ask... if I can stay with you for another night?” you playfully ask, fingers intertwining behind the nape of his neck.  

He chuckles heartily. His fingers sink into the sides of your waist. “Is my dick that great? The sex with me that amazing?”

“Mmm, that’s definitely a benefit,” you agree, fluttering your nose against his. “But I want more than that—“ You poke a finger to his chest. “—I want the man behind the dick.”

Your gazes converge, bringing you together as one.

“I want to go on that date with you. I want you, Jaemin.”

He flashes a megawatt smile that could compete with a million Christmas lights, but it fades suddenly and you’re unsure why he seems like he’s about to bawl his eyes out.

“That’s so beautiful, I might cry.” He brings a finger to his eye, pretending to shed a tear.

Oh, yeah—you’re definitely going to need to hire someone to constantly shove your eyeballs back into your sockets if you’re going to date Jaemin.

“Oh, shut up,” you whisper, yanking him in for another kiss.

Three dates later, including a memorable New Year’s Eve, you finally decide to rid of the Tinder app for good.

With his arm around you on his living room couch, Jaemin glances over your shoulder.

“Really? You’re finally deleting your Tinder?”

You snort in disbelief. “That’s gold, coming from the King of Tinder himself. When did you delete?”

He turns to face the television and shrugs coolly.

“Maybe I didn’t.”

“Wouldn’t put it past you,” you nod, eyes still on your phone.

“Nah, I’m kidding, I did.”    

You sharply turn your head.

“No way. When?” you press with narrow eyes.  

A shy smile emerges on Jaemin’s face as he picks his pants over his thighs.

“On the night of Christmas Eve, after you agreed to go on a date with me.”

#jaemin #na jaemin #jaemin x reader #jaemin smut #jaemin fluff #jaemin angst #nct #nct smut #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct fanfic #jaemin imagines #jaemin scenarios #jaemin fanfic #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream fanfic #nct dream smut #nctcreations

[simpfiles]

For Me: Chapter 2 of A Work in Progress |4K|

CHAPTERS: 1 | X | 3

A/N: we got pegging, we got jinx, we got some weird magic subplot going on. did i mention the pegging? ao3 link.

The first time you met Silco was by a dumpster fire behind an old fish market near the alleys. He talked enough for two people–a good thing as you weren’t in the headspace to carry on a conversation. The viscous humidity of the night air mingled with the foul stretch of sewage and bile that collected in the canal’s mouth. Pollution, tangled webs of pipework, rusted wires, and crumbling infrastructure created a canopy that hid away any stars to wish upon. It made you claustrophobic.

You excused yourself rather curtly, bumping shoulders with a brick house of a man on your way in your temporary home. Your apology to him was in a similar vein.

“You come on too strong.” Vander laughed, patting his brother on the shoulder. “Give ‘em time.”

Silco cracked a smile, skillfully pivoting out of Vander’s grasp. “Time is a luxury we can’t squander.”

“Perhaps.” A pipe rested on Vander’s lower lip as he patted himself down for a match, to which Silco generously provided. “Ah, thanks.”

Vander stroked the light against the wall they leaned on and brought it to his pipe. He inhaled, a languid trail of smoke fluttered between the two of them. Then handed it off to Silco for a puff. “But with someone like that? Mourners need their time to grieve.”

“You must be drunk.” Silco’s head tilted towards your door, chapped lips pursued tight around the pipe. A mourner? Nooo, that’s not right. There was fury in your eyes.

--

It’s difficult– working with such restrictive guidelines. Silco wasn’t the type to give out a free meal, not anymore that is. It appeared that those same standards applied to his adoptive daughter, albeit with leniency to loopholes not privy to the public. She has to complete any given task to receive a reward. How she completes the task is irrelevant, even if it’s through others. While other children are hard at work producing Shimmer, Jinx is too busy doing a whole lot of whatever insane garbage she’s fixated on- you believe this month’s fancy is welding.

Your annoyance is tangible and growing as Jinx launches herself across your office in a rolling chair.

“WEEeeeee!” She squeals in a discordant note, flying past you only to return with a WHOOOOSH!, her arms held out like a superhero. She rears up for another go, muddy boots on your cabinet and legs locked and coiled. “BLAST OFF!” Her trip is cut short by your foot and she goes flying, scraping her knee on the ground, though one wouldn’t know by her wry smile and cheerful “I’m okay!”

How has Silco survived this long with her?

Hands on hips, you greet her cheerful disposition with stoicism. “Are you done?”

“Yup!” She beams, repositioning herself criss cross applesauce hands in her lap. “Whatcha gonna teach me today?”

You narrow your eyes, unable to trust her willful corporation at face value. “The art of combustion.”

“Aw what?” Jinx blows a raspberry, newly polished nails making a sharp thumbs down. “I already know that stuff, can’t you teach me something interesting? How about the birds and the bees? You can start by telling me what you and Silco did last ni–”

“You’re learning the art of combustion.”

“It’s just that, I don’t really do the whole school thing. ”

“For me you will.”

“Mmmm, noooo, it’s not my style. I’m more of a free thinker. Y’know? I already got all the knowledge I need up here in the ol’ noodle.” She knocks twice on her temple for emphasis.

“You’re learning the art of combustion.” You’ve learned through her interactions with others, that dealing with Jinx requires steadfast resolve and a lot of alcohol. The trick was not to let her comments get underneath your skin. Better said than done, but there was one good thing about Jinx: she always needs to prove herself.

“Let’s make a bet.”

She takes the bait, her head lopping to the side with inquisition on her mind, “I like bets.”

From your desk you pull a well used book, most of the pages cat eared at one point or another. “Replicate all twenty of Sovolka’s combustion methods by the end of the day.” She begins to stammer, standing up in protest at the daunting task before her, but you cut her off. “Do it, and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know about last night.”

Trepidation laces her thoughts, her attention scattered until she focuses on a point, past the book, past you. The picture she had previously tagged. It was cleaned once more and she could see your stupid heinous face, mocking her. Laughing at her so loudly it boils her blood. “…Ok” she whispers somberly, “but when I win, I want to burn that picture.”

You meet her fixed point, gripping the book tighter. A voice from a ghost enters your consciousness: do not gamble what you cannot lose. “Fine.”

You hand over the book but pause mid-trade as she attempts to tug it from you. “Ruin this book in any way and the deal is off.”

She nods with a sour face, neither one of you particularly thrilled with the arrangement. But she’s only 13, what are the chances she’ll actually succeed?

She ends up using the picture as fuel for her 20th combustion. An astonishing feat for a girl her age. Applause, however, for her ingenious intuition, would have to wait as little Jinx did could eclipse the fervent loathing you held for the girl and yourself.

Stupid.

A grimace ripples across your features, thinly veiled disgust bleeding out from your poor attempts at keeping an even face. You adopt a rigid stance, pulling a bottle of green liquid from your bottom desk drawer, forgoing the shot glass resting on its capped neck, in exchange for chugging a swig down from the bottle itself. The bottle leaves your lips with a pop and you cross your legs, leaning back in your chair. “So, you ready to know what happened last night?” At least you'd have the satisfaction of telling her how the man she looks up to clings to you in the night.

“Nope!” Jinx answers grinning, unable to suppress her laugh. Why the fuck would she want to know what Silco does behind close doors? YUCK! Just thinking about the possibilities makes her want to hurl. “Bye~!” Manicured fingers wave with whimsical flagrance marking her exit.

Your jaw tightens and you shut your eyes in profound anger.

--

“I hate her so much.” Waves crash against the steep cliffs as thin shells break on impact. “I want to snap her neck like a cadaver.” You ignored whatever virulent expression Silco had waiting at the end of your declaration. There is a turbulent heart within that teenage vessel of chaos and you don’t have the tools or experience to soothe it to a murmur. In truth, you’re not sure Silco does either, but for whatever reason, she seems to respond more readily to him.

“Yes, you've made that clear,” Silco concedes, tasked with maintaining an aloof air of ethereal wisdom. He had hoped your time tutoring her would bring about common ground. A horrible miscalculation on his part.

Another wave comes crashing in.

"A topic you and Sevika can discuss over a drink."

"Trust me, we have."

Silco's frown deepens.

A wordless ‘after you’ settles in the way he stands aside and looks at you expectantly. Cascading cliff shoulders leave little margin for footing or errors. You stumble slightly over a crack and Silco yanks you back to safety, the jagged surface piercing your flesh on collision. “Better a scrape than a splat.” he reasons, one step ahead of your complaint. Suspicion tugs at your gut that it's not his only reason...

The two of you travel the length of the ridge before dropping a story to the entrance of a cavern. Noxious gas throttles your lungs and you regret not putting on a mask sooner. It hisses into place before you step through the cave’s mouth with Silco following close behind, shining a chemlight on shattered remains of malachite stalactites. Narrow corridors direct your pathway, whirring through native flora, and past arcane sigils carved in crystal and rock that illuminate as you pass.

A few scant critters litter the cavern walls, retreating from the light of Silco’s flare, they only make it a short distance before redirecting from the sunlight shining through a clearing in the cavern's roof. Here the air is more breathable, so you remove your masks and take a seat on a slope, looking over a patch of honeydusks. There’s less than a half a dozen. The flower’s stems twist together in rivets, their translucent petals wrapped tightly in circular buds that give off the appearance of grapes.

While you advance forward to your life's work, Silco stays behind, perching himself on a ledge with a deck of cards tucked in his coat. He sets up a game of solitaire. "You complain more frequently than I remember."

"That's not true." You tell him, preparing your equipment for test samples. "We just used to agree more."

“Ah, so that's it.” A peal of amusement mingles with his tone. He flips over the first row of cards, producing nothing he can play on.

Silco looks to you, so buried in your work. You're exactly the same as you were before, and yet, drastically different-- paradoxical, he supposes, but there is simply no other way to describe it.

Slender fingers graze the top of the deck as he recounts the past; even in a graveyard of memories, you bloom. He should have never made you leave. Then maybe he'd still view you as human and not an apparition of nostalgia.

He flips over three cards: the hanged man, the emperor, and death.

Once all your notes were accounted for and his games well won, you come to sit close to him. And he to you. A stray shift from his pinky would be enough to brush your hand.

It's dark now. Quiet.

There is a property of night that makes one so vulnerable to spill those little tragedies tucked just under their tongue. When it's easier to be themselves without the bellowing spotlight of the sun. It's only reasonable to believe that those desires increase within the walls of a cavern.

In silence, you both ignore the way the chamber seems to sway and breathe. That unfriendly warmth between you, a strange humidity. It's oppressive.

You have to say something.

"I really think this time's the charm."

That's not what you wanted to say.

Silco inspects the crystal shard that fills the palm of your hand, vibrantly purple and jagged into an unrecognizable parody of its previous state. Its blunt edges bear the burden of your past anxieties. You add to them by stroking it in a soothing motion.

"That's the crystal that sings to you?"

"It doesn't sing," you grip it, "it hums. And only while in the machine."

Silco glances towards the flowers, still closed off to the world, hidden in the shadows. Near them is the machine; a simple cylinder device equipped with two, tapering claws on either end. "What makes this time different?"

"Tonight's a full moon."

Though, the moon hides steadfastly between a thin sheet of clouds and lingering pollution. Sighing, you tilt your head towards the source of the flowers’ bloom, dimmed and distorted. Not one to grovel before the gods, you pick the stars to be your patron and pray.

The clouds give way and stars shine their blessing on you through the moon, its full and hostile glow lights the cave like a Pentecostal crown.

Silco stands.

The golden soles of his boots singing echoes through the vast area with each languid step; he admires the sight before him, a dazzling floral display. Fresh, dewy purple and pink petals blossoming with colors into their fullest potential, giving off a faint magical blue light. You follow behind, edging to the vine’s perimeter, you raise a finger, the interlude to what could only be nearing a new discovery. Featherlight contact from you initiates a chain reaction, as thick vines coil around your finger, smaller threadlike tendrils race up your arm and Silco brandishes a blade in your defense.

“Stop!” you command, free hand stretched out and splayed. He stills, you both do, though his patience is far more clipped than yours. Coarse vines reach the open wounds from the cliffs. Spanning over them like plaster before withdrawing back to their roots, leaving behind mended skin; visible symptoms of success. “It works…” You touch the area of contact, needing more proof, more tangibility. “It works!”

You fling yourself at Silco, practically ramming the air straight out of his lungs and he struggles to ensure you make it back to the ground safely without damaging the plants.

Absolutely jovially, you discard him to the side, pulling out a pen and notebook from your satchel to jot down your findings. After slicking loose locks back into place, he allows you to celebrate your triumph in private while he opts to lean in on the ball of his heels to get a better view of these miracle plants. A hybrid of your own design, combining the healing factor of a honeyfruit with the magical properties of the duskpetal.

The moon’s light reflects once more off his blade’s edge.

A string of red beads form underneath the blade’s pressure on his finger tip.

Tepidly, he extends his own finger to the base of the flora and waits.

Nothing.

--

Silco breathes in short little huffs through his nose. Naked and spent, he settles into bed, face craned towards a pillow to block out the light from his good eye.

“Silco,” You purr against the shell of his ear, one hand running across his chest. “I’m not done celebrating.”

He shifts a little, glancing through lashes, then swallows. Your shirt remains on but unbuttoned, teasingly pooling around your shoulders. You look absolutely wrecked, eyes watery with unshed tears, and lips red from the abuse they received moments ago. It is times like these that he is thankful for the double vision.

He turns to the cigar by his bedside, pulling away briefly to light it up.

Tilting his head he takes a long savoring drag.

His mismatched eyes drag from you to the box between you both. You are in a good mood.

“Ask nicely.” He rasps, voice diffused with unspoken excitement.

You pluck the cigar from between his lips, taking a puff for show. It’s not your preferred poison but his eyes haven’t left your lips since, and you do relish the attention.

“Nu-uh,” you correct, exhaling a cloud of fumes into his face, “that’s your job. I’ve held up my end of the bargain. It’s your turn.” You raise a brow, inviting any hesitation to make itself clear. “Capeesh?“

He responds with a kiss, long and ravenous, only pulling back to your ear to disclose, “I don���t beg.”  

His ego, his hubris, his fatal hamartia– pure ecstasy. It stirs up a laugh in you and you trace the edge of his jaw with care, your nail tip digging into his chin and holding his eyes steadily. “For me you will.”

--

It would have to be your more hedonistic designs. A self-lubricating strap on, plated with stolen gold from topsider denizens to give it a cool glossy finish. You considered it symbolic, a metaphysical way to fuck them. Though, you suppose in this case, its them… that would be… fucking…. Silco…

Symbolism is bullshit anyways.

Leather presses into your flesh as you fiddle with the harness' straps around your supple thighs. "No, please, don't get up. Let me do everything."  you say sarcastically.

Silco purses his lips, inhaling deeply to calm himself and not tarnish his carefully cultivated ethos–but he's transfixed on your movements. "And deprive you of the pleasure? Wouldn't dream of it." He jokes, leaning back against the headboard. His hungry gaze never leaving your body.

It's how you straddle his trim waist. The way you roll your hips just enough for the delightful bite of coolness from the strap-on to kiss his skin. Then you lean back, giving him a clear view of your entrance; still wet from before, a mixture of his and yours cum. With two fingers you collect some at leisure and his stomach twists up in a knot that advances to his throat.

He wants to say something.

"Well, what are you waiting for?"

That's not what he wanted to say.

There is a momentary transition in the air when you come down on him with your weight to nip at the nape of his neck, your fingers preparing him. The icy coldness of your heavy strap-on brushes his abdomen, wrenching a very unflattering squawk from his throat. It settles next to his actual prick; longer but thinner than Silco's with a prominent vein about halfway up its shaft.

Carefully, you nudge past his tight entrance with one digit, his body tensed on the spot. It isn't a bad feeling, just odd.

You capture his mouth and distract him with a slow gentle kiss, tenderly finger fucking him at the same pace. Warm and slippery, your fingers coax a low noise of appreciation for him, prompting you to add a second finger. When he tenses a second time, you break the kiss, tapping your free fingers on his cheek.

“You need to relax.” You wait for him to obey, pressing your ear to his fluttering heart.

His cock leaks on your stomach and you decide to taste a sample, firmly running your thumb over his sensitive head, earning a sharp whine from him.

“Do you want a taste?” You smear pre-cum along his lips, dipping your thumb between them. Without instruction he parts them, ever so little, allowing you to guide your thumb along the sharp edging of his teeth. “Suck.”

His mouth closes, the tip of his tongue running along your thumbprint. He instinctively licks his lips after the removal of your thumb.  “Good boy.” Men like Silco needed equal parts praise and chastising.

By now his body has relaxed, so you remove your fingers from him completely, using his sheets as a wipe. His cock only waning slightly though the process, a testimony to the effect you had on him.

A soothing hand on his inner thigh earns you a solid slap. “You will not.” he hisses, shooting you a nasty look as he sits up. You raise a brow at him, watching as he gets off the bed and on his knees… OH.

You scoff with an incredulous roll of your eyes as you follow suit, taking your place behind him and leaning your weight into his back, pressing him against the edge of the mattress. “You’re a real piece of work.” With your chest against his back, it’s hard for him to take anything you say to heart.

“We all have our limits.” His included not being fucked spread eagle.

“Mhm.” You say noncommittally, focusing on lining yourself up. Your hand snakes up the back of his neck to grab a tuft of hair, arching him back you quirk a smile, “Get ready.” You push forward. A hard shock of uncomfortably cold metal meets his sensitive skin and he cries out. Made to self-lubricate, it glides in easily. You start slow, measuring your strokes with his panting and hitched breaths.

Somewhere between the third and fourth stroke you release his hair and he quickly buries his face in the mattress, gripping the sheets for support.

Rather disappointing, as you want to see Silco’s reactions but your angle and position make it near impossible. However, the sounds he makes are delightful. Once sure that his body had adjusted to this new sensation, you take it a step further.

You pull out of him, earning a shaky grasp and muffled choice words from him. With his ass in the air, his cute little pucker twitches while you collect some fluid from your invention. You gather it liberally in your palm.

Then reposition yourself. Your warm slick fingers take hold of his middle back and sends a shiver up his spine. With careful manipulation you slide in him, and silco exhales a satisfied breath.

You move forward, grasping his cock to give him a few heady pumps as you rock your hips back and forth. Your other hand gives much needed attention to his balls, making his leg tremble.

He wishes you'd talk more. You have a strong, sharp, and clear voice, and he has no problem with you bossing him around a little if it means hearing his name set to the cadence of your voice.

As if reading his mind, you mumble his name. "You have lovely eyes, Silco. Don't hide them from me."

There's no voluntary movement or sound from him aside from a few soft huffs.

My bad, Sil. Sometimes I forget to tell you things, 'cause when you look at me, it's like you already know, you know?

"Silco?"

It is a bitter tragedy how two people can be so close and still so far from where they used to be.

Out of convenience, not preference, he turns his head marred side up. Concealer and foundation smothered deep in the sheets giving access to what lies underneath; blacken and pockmarked. You stroke the area beneath his eye fondly, slowing your thrusts to a lull.

“You're beautiful, Sil.”

He shoots you a look that could kill, wrenching his face from your touch.

"Finish already." He grits, surprising you. It sounds mostly confident, but there is an unmistakable wavering in his tone that speaks volumes.

In one move, you plant your leg firmly ahead of his and thrust forward hard enough to catch him off-balance.

“Ah!” He shouts your name.

You do it again.

Loose locks cling to sweat that cling to his forehead.

You do it again. “Beg for me.”

He disobeys you.

You slow down your strokes on his cock. “Do it!”

He tries to take matters into his own hands (literally).

You seize them. “I. Said. Beg.” Each word punctuation particularly deep thrust. It was absolutely maddening not being able to apply friction to his cock with each drive tightening the knot inside him.

He desperately splutters your name, gnashing teeth and clenching fist in frustration. “Just finish me!”

You click your tongue, “Since you asked so nicely.” You return your hand, picking up the pace, chasing the end he so badly wants.

It only takes one more thrust, driven in deep to tip him over the edge, arching his back into the curve of your body. His heart hammers in his chest,  legs like jelly, and his brain dizzy; you have to hold him tightly to keep him steady.

“I…” is all he can muster at first.

“Yeah,” you reply apathetically, hand slicked with his cum.

The warmth that settled in his chest recedes simultaneously with your embrace.

Silco picks his head up and watches you clean yourself up. Your pace and body language make it quite clear you're upset with him.

"Ah," He gets up slowly. His body aching and face still flush. Hands sweep through his undone hair, combing it back into place. "Stay the night." he tries to appease you, unsatisfied with the direction of how things are going.

"No." You answer coldly. Placing the strap-on on his mattress, you find it incredibly easy to ignore the grimace he makes when it leaks on bedding. Too busy putting on the rest of your clothes at record speed.

"If it's because of what I said-"

"I don't care." Your eyes bore into his. Silco isn't the only one with a carefully constructed ethos. At least yours isn't as quick to betrayal like his. "I don't want to be with you."

The night ends as all interactions between you two do, with an outspoken gaze from you and silent whispers that urge him to be better and try again tomorrow.

#i'm so tired don't touch me rn #Silco #Silco x Reader #lol #i'll beta read/edit things tomorrow #this is the last one i'm gonna do for a while until i get caught up on work and family #Edit: finally got a chance to edit this and wow so many typos #awip #my writing

[startanewdream]

Mia

Summary: It’s not really an unplanned pregnancy if you planned it once - even it was twenty years ago, right?

Or the road leading to James and Lily’s baby number two. (Part of the Jily Lives AU)

Note: To be edited later with a link to AO3 as soon as this gets a title. Edited with the link to AO3 if you prefer. Also, this time there is mention of Sirius and Remus being alive because after the last one, I felt guilty.

Warning for... mentions of sex. That’s how babies are made after all.

_________________________

They are in bed, Lily’s head over his chest while he caresses her hair, both still recovering their breaths when she first talks about it.

'How do you feel about another?'

James raises his eyebrows.

'I don't know if I should be happy you enjoyed so much you already want more or if I should be concerned you are not satisfied, Lily'.

'What? No -' she giggles, turning in bed to stare at him, her auburn hair floating around her. 'I meant about another child'.

James is silent for a few seconds, considering it.

'So that means you are not satisfied'.

She rolls her eyes, but James can see the amusement in her face.

'In bed with you, yes, I am', she assures, placing a soft kiss on his chest, over his heart. 'But about kids, I've been thinking about it'.

James bits his lips.

'You know how I feel about it', he whispers.  'I hated so much being an only child that I found myself brothers as soon as I could'.

'Yeah and you did propose to me mentioning how you would like a house full of kids - enough to fill a Quidditch team, if I remember correctly'.

'I was babbling, afraid you were going to refuse me! You know you can't use someone's desperate proposal against him'.

She smiles softly.

'So you don't want a bunch of children?'

He touches her hair once more, keeping his eyes on the auburn strands, and it comes to his mind that he would like a child with that gorgeous hair of her.

'I do. Maybe not seven, but I don't want Harry to be an only child. It's just -'

He doesn't finish, but James knows he doesn't need to. Harry is just fifteen months old, an unplanned child in the middle of a war they are not close to winning and, truth be told, if James and Lily had more sense, they would not have one child, let alone another one.

And there is the fact that their only son is already too much involved in this war.

'Hey', she cups his face. 'Let's plan together'.

There is a pleading tone in her voice, and he knows that what Lily is asking is hope - for better days, for a time where they can have more children without worrying about what will happen to them.

He looks back at her and when their eyes meet, his heart beats faster. It should be silly considering what they were doing minutes ago and how he possibly cried in very colourful words that he loved her, but this is one of those moments where time seems to stop and he realizes, with a wave of electricity running through his body, with a certainty that leaves room for no doubt, that he loves her with all he has.

That’s why they are together, that’s why he asked her to marry him. Not because he feared for the future, not because he was desperate to enjoy as much time with her as they had left.

But because he loved her since what seems always now, and he won’t deny any hope for Lily, not when he's been living on it.

He kisses her softly.

'Let’s plan’, he agrees. ‘I think… maybe four kids would be nice. Two boys, two girls'.

She smiles.

'Well, we can't plan that'. Then Lily throws him a knowing look. 'You are thinking about forming a new group of Marauders, aren't you?'

He smiles unabashedly.

'Just think about family photos. Each one of our kids dresses as one of the Marauders. It would be the cutest thing ever'.

Her eyes shine, seeing beyond him.

'It would. Fine, four kids. We will need a bigger house'.

'We can expand the house, you know. My dad always said he thought of creating a new wing here; there is plenty of land'.

'Two rooms to begin with. They can share until they are older'.

‘Sirius always slept in my room when he came over’, James remembers fondly. ‘We almost burnt the house once or twice, I must warn you’.

‘Consider me warned. Petunia and I had separate rooms, but when I was younger -’, she pauses suddenly, and James can see the concern on her face. ‘What if they don’t like each other?’, she whispers.

‘They will’.

‘You can’t know for sure, I mean - you see how Petunia is with me. And Sirius can’t even talk about Regulus, what if -’

‘You are worrying too much, Lily’, he says gently, kissing the top of her head. ‘Maybe they will best friends, maybe they won’t. But I’m sure they will be family no matter what’.

She looks thoughtfully, but after a minute she nods.

‘What about next year? Harry will be two, it’s a good age gap’.

‘It would be nice. We can start practising now if you want’.

‘I thought we already did’, Lily winks at him. ‘But we can repeat tomorrow’.

‘Halloween fun?’, he smirks. ‘Will you be wearing a costume?’

‘Only if you do - and no, your antlers tiara doesn’t count’.

He pouts, making her giggle and kiss him until his expression relax.

‘Hey, Lily’, he calls her, his voice resounding with the hope he associates with Lily. ‘Let’s have another child’.

___________________

When Harry is five and he starts Muggle school, it comes to James that his son has been lacking other kids in his life. It’s not that he is lonely - he couldn’t be, not with James and Lily always there for him, not with the almost daily visits from Sirius and Remus, but he suddenly wishes there were more children in the house.

Now, he can’t count on Sirius or Remus to help him with it - both of them seem to avoid relationships like the plague, though for different reasons -, so he rounds Lily while she is in her office preparing a potion.

‘James?’, she calls surprised, when his arms embrace her from behind and he kisses her exposed neck (James loves when Lily is making potions because she keeps her hair on a bun and he has a weak spot for her neck). ‘This will explode if I don’t stir it’.

‘Let it explode’.

‘It’s a Draught of Living Death, we will turn into zombies if -’

‘Let’s make a baby’.

That makes her take her wand to freeze the potion and turn to him, with a funny smile.

‘Is that a weird way of asking for sex? If so - you used better lines before’.

‘No, I mean, sex is good too and most necessary, but I mean it, Lily. Let’s try for another kid’.

Lily blinks.

‘Why now?’

‘Why not now? Harry is still young, we are definitively young, what’s keeping us from having more?’

She bits her lip, thoughtful, and James feels suddenly dismayed.

‘Unless you don’t want anymore?’

‘It’s not that, I want it - it’s just, with everything that happened -’

‘I know, it slipped out of my mind too. But now, we are living in this peace for a while…’

‘But it won’t last, will it?’, she whispers as if she feels guilty of even thinking about it. ‘Dumbledore says he isn’t really dead and when he returns -’

‘Maybe he will stay hidden forever, maybe he is too weak to try anything’.

She smiles sadly.

‘Every time I look at Harry’s scar I know that something will happen, James. That’s not a normal scar, that means something, and I get scared’.

‘Hey’, he hugs her. ‘As long as we are together, we can face anything - didn’t we prove that before?’

‘Yeah, but - is it fair? To put someone innocent in the middle of our mess?’

‘It was not fair with Harry, but we managed. We can do it again’.

‘James…’

Lily looks at him and James sees she is not convinced, not really; he knows Lily enough to understand that she is rational - she likes to think first, whereas James is always the more impulsive. They complement each other. He takes her to fly, she remembers him to come back to the ground.

And he understands what she means, even if he wishes things were different.

‘You are right’, he sighs. ‘At least for now, until we see how things really are’.

She smiles, touching his face with fondness.

‘I want it, I really do. Don’t forget it’.

James kisses her hand on his face.

‘I won’t. In fact, if you want to start practising now -’

____________________

It’s just because the house is empty now that Harry is off to Hogwarts that the subject returns; they don’t exactly talk about it. James just sees Lily is not taking her potions anymore - they look at each other, understanding passing between them (one of the benefits of being married for over ten years) - and then suddenly and simply as that they are trying.

It feels a little weird to actually hope for once that something comes out of their moments together, but it’s Lily. He forgets everything when he is with her, focusing on just enjoying her company and touches and how they made each other feel.

But time passes and nothing happens. It’s been only three months, it’s nothing unusual, and Lily mentions seeing a doctor when the owl comes to tell them how someone jinxed Harry’s broom on his first Quidditch match.

That doesn’t seem like a good sign.

When they return home months after, in June, after seeing Harry all bandaged in the hospital, after hearing him talking about coming face to face with Voldemort, they don’t say anything. He buys the herbs for Lily and she is not surprised when he gives them to her.

There is no need to talk about it.

____________________

Most of the time their lives are full of things happening and Harry is always at the centre of a storm, so when James thinks about it, Lily was right. He can’t imagine facing dementors and going back to the Order with a young child to be cared for.

He can’t imagine how their child would be a target, how vulnerable and defenceless their child would be, without a love protection, without a prophecy somehow binding its fate. They made the right choice of postponing their second child.

That’s the rational part of him that suddenly vanishes the moment he sees Lily holding baby Teddy Lupin in her arms for the first time, that cute fat baby that giggles at her, closing his eyes for a minute - and then his blue hair turns as red as hers and his eyes are bright green.

It’s like a mini-Lily and suddenly James wishes more than ever that this war is over soon - or that it had never even begun because he can see that other life, the one where there was no Voldemort. Instead, James and Lily’s lives are filled with more children, happy shining kids whose worst problems are passing their school exams and not surviving. The life he always wanted for Harry.

His eyes meet Lily’s and she smiles at him, offering him to hold Teddy. It’s been forever since James held a baby, but he still remembers, not really forgetting all these nights he took care of Harry. Teddy is a quiet baby, smiling at him too, his hand raised to try to grab his glasses.

��He is perfect’, he whispers, looking to Remus. His friend is beaming - James understands that happiness that comes with holding your child for the first time, with seeing that miracle in the shape of a baby that you swear to protect with all your heart.

‘Of course he is’, Tonks says cheerfully, while Remus hugs her, holding her close to him as if he doesn't believe he gets to be this happy.

James understands the feeling of living that light bright moment right after coming out of the darkness. There is nothing like that.

He returns Teddy to Tonks when he starts to whimper for his mother, and then he looks at Lily.

Her green eyes are filled with longing for a life they promised themselves they would have, and also a little bit of hurt. How did they lose sight of their dreams?

They both know the answer but it's not a comfort.

Later, when they apparate back to their hiding place - a sorry little apartment where they pretend to be a normal boring couple -, they don't wait to turn out the lights and they don't say anything before their lips are meeting, and it's desperate and harsh as it has not been for a long time.

Somehow James feels like they are making up for a lost time that won't go anywhere and that they can't retrieve anyway.

It doesn't matter.

When they first married all they had was their love and dreams. They still love each other and for those dreams - they will accomplish them.

________________

They never speak out loud but somehow in the aftermath of the last battle, it feels right that they get a new beginning just as everyone else is having.

It’s all about rebuilding - Hogwarts, then the wizarding world - the Ministry, the Aurors, organising a system that was clearly outdated - and their home. It's a long process and in the middle of it, they forget about worrying, about planning; they just go with the flow and somehow it works without they even meaning to.

Lily has this weird expression on her face, one that seems to mix disbelief and amazement as she turns to him one morning and says as if the most natural thing:

‘James? I think I’m pregnant’.

That’s the first difference from their first time. Now he is the one that leaves for the pharmacy while Lily prepares a potion - they will test twice, just to be sure - and they are together while they wait for both tests to tell them if her feelings were right on the spot.

They are.

There are two lines on the muggle pregnancy test and the potion turns blue and suddenly like that they know they will be parents again.

She hugs him then, her eyes filled with tears of pure joy, laughing when she sees James is really crying now.

‘I love you so much!’, he declares brightly, kissing every part of her face that he can (but with care, because a pregnant Lily always seems fragile to him, no matter the fact he knows this is not true). 

And it feels that this is what he should have done the first time, when she first told him about Harry. They should be happy and only that. No worries. That’s the second difference.

There are parallels too, James thinks. Harry’s shock at the idea his parents will have a baby reminds him of Sirius’ reaction as if he can’t possibly understand how that happened (somehow, despite running into them a couple of times, Sirius still got shocked with the fact they made sex). Lily is as sick as in her first pregnancy, so the first months are mostly spent at home too.

And just like back then, Sirius comes to visit her every day he can, careful to bring her anything she may want to eat and offering massage to her feet that Lily doesn’t need to, but she enjoys anyway.

‘I can still see my feet, Padfoot’, she replies teasingly, lying lazily on the couch of the living room while Sirius' hands work their magic on her right foot. James winks at her.

‘Just enjoy, Lily. He is trying to get into your good graces. He wants to be named godfather again’.

Sirius nods unabashedly, grinning at her. 

‘Remus is the next in line’, Lily says, shrugging. ‘But keep with that massage and we will think about you if baby number three ever comes’.

‘Still without a name for baby number two?’

‘You need to stop calling young Prongslet by numbers’, James scolds without any malice.

‘We are not calling Prongslet either, James’.

‘Of course not, Lily. It will be Elvendork’.

Lily rolls her eyes.

‘Not this again’.

‘It’s unisex!’

They indeed refer to their baby as Elvendork just because it’s easier than calling “it” or “baby”, and Harry throws confused looks at them, looking concerned that his new brother or sister will really be called that, though Lily assures him this won’t happen.

But the truth is that they really have not decided on a name, haven’t even discussed yet seriously until they return from the doctor with the news it’s a girl (James cried with this news just as he cries every time they go to the doctor and he hears the baby's heartbeat or even that shape in the ultrasound that it's not really discernible).

They are on the bed, with James looking wondrously at Lily’s now round belly and imagining their little girl (maybe that mini-Lily he once thought of, maybe a little Harry, maybe a little James - it doesn’t matter, he already loves her), when he whispers: ‘We can’t call her Elvendork’.

Lily throws him a surprised look.

‘Oh, no! Poor Elvendork!’

He is too enamoured with her to retort.

‘Did you think of any names?’

‘I have a list of names’, she admits. ‘But none of them feels right’.

They go together through her list; there are beautiful, weird and creative types of names, but as Lily said, none seems to fit yet.

Of course, they don’t lack ideas. Everyone seems to have an opinion.

Sirius is all for the stars, of course (but James thinks he is teasing, though some of them sound nice), and Harry suggests female heroes.

‘What about your mothers?’, Remus suggests, when he and Dora come over for dinner. Lily is sitting on the couch, playing with Teddy. The boy is four now, and he seems fascinated by Lily’s big belly - he had been too young when Fleur was pregnant with Victoire, so this is the first time he is really seeing a pregnant woman and understanding what it means.

Teddy already refers to the baby as his little cousin, sounding proud and excited to meet her.

‘Rose would be a good name’, Lily muses, but still it doesn’t seem to be what she is looking for.

At this time, with only a month away until their baby is born, James considers they are hoping that looking at her face will be enough after the birth - if not, he will just cry the first name that comes to his mind when they sign her birth certificate.

He only hopes he manages not to sign Elvendork. Lily would kill him.

‘I wouldn’t go for Euphemia’, he declares, shrugging.

‘As someone who has an outdated name, I second that’, Dora says, grinning at him.

But Lily looks at both of them with her brows furrowed, and James knows there is something on her mind. She doesn’t say anything until they are alone later.

‘You know, I think Remus might have the right idea’.

‘Liked Rose after all?’

‘No, actually, I thought about your mother’.

Thinking of his mother brings to James that smell of fresh-baked pie, the warmth of her hugs - she had always been there for him, to listen and to guide him - and not just him. She had been a mother to Sirius too and even to Lily in the few months they had together before she passed away.

He smiles softly.

‘I miss her, but Euphemia is not - ‘

‘It doesn’t have to be Euphemia. Your father called her Mia, right? We can do something like that’.

‘Mia Potter?’

‘I thought of Amelia. And we could call her Mia, for short. Like Teddy or Ginny’.

‘Mia Potter’, he repeats, savouring the words.

‘Amelia Rose Potter? In honour of both grandmothers?’

James beams, hugging Lily and letting his hand feel her belly. ‘I love it’.

The baby seems to like it too, because in the next second Lily is wincing and James feels the baby kicking.

‘You know what, Lily? I think Mia will be a great Quidditch player too’.

She sighs exaggeratedly.

‘I only wish she could wait to start training when she is out’.

_____________________

Because fate sometimes is funny, Mia Potter is born on Halloween Night and the first time James holds her he is wearing an antlers tiara that he forgot to take off and that no one warned him about.

Later he will probably hex Sirius when he teases him about it, but right now he just sits next to Lily on her hospital bed, and she beams at him despite her tiredness.

‘We did it’, she whispers, sounding amazed, and James understands the feeling. They are in their forties, they lived through two wars, they raised a magnificent young man and here they are holding their second child, a tiny baby who seems unbelievably perfect in every sense.

One minute, James thinks. Let us enjoy this one minute, just a little.

When the minute is over, he returns the sleeping Mia to Lily’s arms and goes to open the door. Harry is pacing in front of the door, looking agitated as James felt all during the labour, even though he never left Lily’s side.

‘So? Can I see my sister now?’

‘And my goddaughter?’, Sirius pops in, grinning. James laughs.

‘It’s Remus’ goddaughter, and, yes, you can come in. She is sleeping’.

They get around the bed, with Sirius hugging Lily and declaring her the most amazing woman in the world (‘Are you drunk, Padfoot?’ ‘Yes, I was nervous! ‘You won’t hold Mia until you are sober’), and with Harry touching the thin strands of dark hair on his sister’s head, looking at her as if it’s the most precious thing he has ever seen.

James thinks he was wrong about that selfish minute he spent alone with Lily and Mia. Seeing Harry and Sirius cooing about the baby, he realizes this is the kind of one minute he wishes to have more in his life.

‘Do you want to hold her?’, Lily offers, and Harry nods, unable to look away. He sits on the chair right beside the bed and James helps him hold his sister. She wakes up, crying, and for a moment Harry seems to be in panic until he raises and swings her softly, just like he used to do with his godson.

‘Hi, Mia’, Harry whispers. ‘That’s ok. There, there. I’m your big brother, you see? I’m here for you’.

There is a soothingly effect on Harry’s voice and after a few minutes, Mia seems to relax indeed, her crying turning into a sob that seems to be more because of the unfamiliar world she is now in than anything else.

‘She has your eyes, Dad’, Harry says, smiling. James looks back at his daughter and, more than the hazel colour that looks a lot like his, he sees the way she seems to be curious about her surroundings as if she wants to see all the world has to offer.

Mia has indeed his eyes.

____________________

Mia is three when Ginny calls her and Mia comes with an expression of guilt that tells James she has done something she shouldn’t. That doesn’t really surprise him. He saw his daughter running with Teddy and Victoire and whenever those three are together, something always seems to happen.

Most of the time involving some kind of petty mischief that gives James very much hope for his daughter.

‘It was not my fault’, Mia declares, looking sheepish. 

‘I am sure it was Teddy’s’, Harry says, sharing a grin with James, because whenever they are discovered, Teddy always declares himself to be the guilty one, even though James can see exactly when it was Victoire (with her exuberant ideas) or Mia (with her direct-to-the-point ideas), clearly feeling it’s his role as the older of them.

‘It’s okay, Mia’, Ginny assures her tenderly, offering her arms and Mia doesn’t hesitate to go sit on her lap.

Mia loves her parents, adores Harry but it’s Ginny that she worships. Like with the broomstick: Mia learnt to fly at one like Harry, who gave her her first broom, but it was just last summer when they took her to watch a Quidditch game, where Ginny had scored sixteen goals that Mia had declared she wanted to be a Chaser when she grew up.

James had shaken his head in fake dismay at the fact his daughter had not been impressed with his Quidditch skills, but he didn't really mind: any reason he could to spend afternoons flying with her was good for him.

'We have something to tell you', Ginny says under Mia's concentrated look. Lily exchanges a smile with James; they already know, but hearing it again just makes them happier than words could describe. 'You are going to be an aunt'.

She blinks.

'Like you are?'

Ginny smiles.

'Do you know what an aunt is?'

'I know that Vic calls you Aunt, but Teddy calls you Ginny'.

'Well, I am Vic's aunt because Vic's father is my brother'.

'Like Harry is my brother'.

'Yes, so you are going to be an aunt because Harry will have a son or daughter'.

'Oh!' she looks at his brother, clasping her hands. 'With whom?'

'With me', Ginny explains while everyone laughs. 'Harry and I will have a baby'.

'Oh. Like Aunt Fleur had Dominique?'

'Exactly'.

'I like babies', Mia declares. 'Where is the baby? I want to meet him!'

'In a few months. He or she is still… not ready'.

'Oh'. Mia seems upset, then she shrugs. 'Can I play outside until then?'

Ginny laughs and places a kiss on Mia's cheek.

'Sure. We will call you when it's ready'.

'Mia', Lily calls, sounding amused. 'Do you know how Harry takes care of you?'. Mia nods. 'That's what an aunt does too'.

'Can I take the baby to the park too?'

'When he is older', James assures her. Mia smiles, her hazel eyes sparkling.

‘I will be the best aunt ever’, she declares, and then she is running outside (Mia can’t walk - she only knows how to run), back to Teddy and Victoire.

James watches her through the window, talking excitedly to them, probably telling them all about her news.

'I think you will have a handful with them in the future'.

'Me?', Harry laughs. 'If McGonagall doesn't retire by the time your child and grandchild are both in Hogwarts, I will be surprised'.

______________________

Mia’s name came from @blitheringmcgonagall cute amazing stories of Mia and Monty Potter, and the final scene is some sort of answer to @dear-james​ ‘s prompt of James and Lily knowing about James Sirius (to be properly answered some day, I hope!)

#eyes glistening #jily lives #Jily FanFiction #hinny #baby potter #i don't know the title yet #please help #to be edited later #t: fanfiction

[the-silentium]

Quits

Masterlist

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reader

Words: 2200 words

Warnings: TUA season 1 and 2 spoilers, violence, blood, swearing.

Requested by: Anon!

Hi!! Can i get a five x reader where the reader gets shot or stabbed or something but doesnt tell anyone and ends up passing out? Thanks!!

A/N: I’m back at my requests! Thank you Anon for this sweet lil’ idea and I hope it lives up to your expectations as it does with mine  ❤ Requests are still open!

You remember a time when you took pride in your capacity to make the right choice at the right time. When school asked you what you wanted to do in life, you chose the right one from the start unlike the majority of your friends who had to change classes multiple times and were now a happy veterinarian. When life put on your path the incarnation of your perfect partner, you decided to take it slow to see where it went. Fortunately for you, you quickly saw through his facade and kicked him out before he could create more permanent damage to your heart. 

Your life was full of important decisions that were though at the time. Sometimes you had to take some days to think about it when other times it took you hours. They were all risky shots that could end up badly for you in the end so you liked to take your time to think about it. 

This is why when Five Hargreeves, your childhood closest friend, knocked at your door one day and asked for your help to stop the fast-arriving apocalypse, you didn't think twice and immediately accepted. How could you make the bad choice by helping him save the world? If he failed you would die, he would die, everyone would die and this is obviously the bad end of the story, right?

Well, as of right now, you were starting to doubt it. After failing to stop 2019's apocalypse and after Five had time-traveled every living Hargreeves plus yourself in the 1960s, you found yourself in two precarious situations: one, you were back in your 13-year-old self and two, you were not fighting two crazy hard-ass Commissioners, but three crazy hard-ass IKEA mafioso! 

It was a miracle that you survived the raid on the Hargreeves Mansion unscathed. You had thanked your luck for allowing you to live another day, although you regret ever doing so. Clearly, you had jinxed yourself, for surviving the Swedes ambush at the Mexican consulate wasn't as painless as the raid. 

A very well-sharpened knife had managed to pierce your skin, getting in your abdomen all the way to the hilt before you managed to kick the white-haired man down a nice flight of stairs. Your medical instinct pushed you to hastily insert some absorbent tissue into your wound to control the bleed and allow you to check it later. 

Sadly, one thing led to another and you were now sitting with all six Hargreeves who were currently trying to formulate a plan of some sort while Diego was focussed on his JFK conspiracy and you were literally bleeding out. 

The once pristine washcloth you had stolen in the kitchen was completely soaked, staining your blue shirt with dark red spots. Speaking of spots, hundreds of tiny black ones were now dancing in your line of sight like dark fireflies. 

"Has anyone here done anything to screw up the timeline?" 

You lifted your hand hoping to get the attention of the others, obviously working when Luther asked what you'd done. 

"Anything yet, but would it screw the timeline if I died here?" 

You saw Five frowns in confusion, his mouth opening on a question before yelling your name when you couldn't hold yourself up anymore and fell to the ground. Strong arms lifted you from the floor and you landed on a comfy cloud. You smiled in contentment, it has been a while since you had a proper night of sleep. This cloud will be perfect for a nap. 

Tiny slaps on your left cheek forced your eyes to open and meet a concerned blue gaze. 

"So pretty." You mumbled, still focussing on the blue eyes frantically scanning your face. 

Oh did I mentioned earlier that you had a crush on Five? Because you do and it is not small if after 15 years your heart still accelerates when you merely meet his gaze. 

"Don't sleep okay? Keep your eyes open!" You laughed at his command, it is the same thing you told him the day he lost consciousness at Leonard's cabin. You had a snarky remark at the tip of your tongue but it died on your lips when darkness forced its way upon you. 

………………………

Even before your mind was operational enough to create thoughts, your brain was already running full speed and relentlessly reminded you that your abdomen was on fire. The pain was a great ally into your mission to wake up and open your eyes. Maybe you would be able to ask for some painkillers. 

The harsh neon light shining over your head made you tear up the second your eyes opened to assess your environment. You tried again, slower this time, and found yourself confused by your surroundings. 

Many times in your childhood you had passed time in this room, planning pranks, doing homework, reading, or just hanging out. Nothing had changed excepted the walls that were now covered in equations and names. 

Groggily, you attempted to seat up, your abdominal muscles screamed in agony at your movements forcing you to stay on your back. The groan that erupted from your throat alarmed a passer-by who raced to the door, opening it so fast that it collided with the wall. 

"She's awake!" Klaus shouted in the corridor when he saw your wide-open eyes. He only had time to put a foot into the bedroom that a blue light appeared out of nowhere announcing Five's arrival. Your heart was beating too quickly by the time Five had pushed Klaus out of his room and slammed the door shut behind him. 

“What were you thinking?!” Five's anger caused you to frown. What did you do? You searched your mind for an answer and quickly found one in the vivid memory of a knife diving into your flesh. 

You opened your mouth to talk your mind but nothing came out of the desert that was your throat. Noticing your problem, Five caught a water bottle from his nightstand, cautiously brought it to your lips, and let you drink small sips of the freshwater. Satisfied, you coughed once to prepare your throat. 

“Now you know how it felt so we are quits.” You answered, referring to the time in Leonard’s cabin where you felt like the world had stopped when Five lost consciousness. You took care of him as best as you could despite your field of expertise being animals you had a basic understanding of the human anatomy, so with your trembling hands covered in his blood while desperately trying to not notice how much there was, you worked as effectively as you could to keep the love of your life alive. 

"This is not a game! You could have died!" You would have believed his angry eyes if only his hands weren't shaking so much. You were friend with Five for long enough to know how to read his temper and now, he was scared. 

"But I didn't." You tried to calm him down with your calm voice. You remember jumping at his neck the second he woke up that time he passed out, why couldn't he do the same instead of yelling at you? 

You watched him open his mouth a couple of times before closing it, clearly thinking through what he was going to say. When he finally chose, his voice was barely audible. "Selfish." 

You blinked in confusion at his statement. "Me? Selfish?" With each word now, your voice was raising until you reached the point where you were yelling at the blue-eyed 30 years old man. "Everything I did was to save the damn world from the apocalypse and you call me selfish?! I took a fucking knife to the gut and dealt with it for the sake of the world and you call me self-" 

"I wasn't talking about you." Now this stopped you good. You frowned in confusion, not seeing where he was going. "I was talking about me." 

Your head tilted to the side, searching your brain as to why Five would call himself selfish. All he did was for his family, he never acted for himself, so why?

"I almost let everything down to make sure you made it back alive. I almost let the world end for you because I can't imagine living another 45 years where you're not there." His words were soft, a tone that you weren't aware was used exclusively around you. His gaze fled yours, switching between the scribbles on the walls and the foot of the bed. 

Color rushed to your face for his words definitely sounded like a confession to your ears. Your childhood self had waited for so long to hear something of the type, so long that you thought the friendzone was the ultimate area that you would be welcome in. You accepted that your feelings were strong enough to be pleased by his happiness even with someone else. 

A smile formed on your lips causing Five's heart to miss a beat in its rhythmic pumping. "I-"

"Guys they are doing it!" Klaus' loud voice on the other side of the door cut you off. 

"Doing what?" Allison had joined her brother at the door, confused of his antics. 

"Admitting their undying love for each other!" At this point Five had opened the door swiftly, his murderous gaze fell on his siblings, daring them to say something more. It was at this moment that Klaus realized how scary his brother was in reality, he wasn't the little Number Five anymore, but a grown-up man who could easily murder him in a thousand ways possible. 

"Oh heck no!" The words fell off your mouth against your will, the embarrassing situation making you nervous so your brain tried to defuse the situation by stating the opposite of what Klaus wanted. From your point of view, you totally missed the way Five's eyes lost their deadly rage, instead showing his pain at your words. He was quick to hide his feelings once more, but his siblings had enough time to acknowledge his true emotion. 

Slapping Klaus behind the head, Allison got a hold of his shirt and pulled him away to let the two of you clear this out. Everyone knew you two were pinning each other when you were younger. Even when fighting the two apocalypses! It was clear as day for the rest of the family, however, it wasn't the case for the both of you. 

The door slammed back in place once more making you jump and hiss in pain when your abdominal muscles contracted. In your field of vision, you noted that Five had tensed before closing his hands in tight fists and made his way to his desk, the only place in the room you couldn't see because of your incapacity to turn around. 

You knew what you said must have hurt him, it clearly seemed like you had rejected him. Stupid defense method. 

"Five?" No answer was given, his heavy breathing being the only sound resonating in the room. "I didn't mean that." A scoff fell off his lips. 

"You think I'll believe that?" The venom in his voice told you just how much you had hurt him, squeezing your heart in shame. 

"When you disappeared 15 years ago I developed a system to protect myself from new heartbreaks. It hurt way less to force myself to believe that my feelings for you were nonexistent than acknowledge them and continue living without you, Five." Water appeared in your eyes, pooled down your cheeks, and soaked your new shirt. "I was so used to deny my feelings that-" Your voice broke when a sob forced its way out of you. 

Hands found your cheeks, drying the wet trails before pulling you into a firm chest. You managed to slip your hands around his waist and cried for as long as needed. The exhaustion of the last endless days caught up to you along with the fact that the subject of your love was very well alive and here to stay, fueling the flow of tears falling down your eyes. 

"I really didn't mean it." You managed to croak out between sobs. 

One of Five's hand went to your hair, stroking your head tenderly. "I know." Your grip onto his shirt tightened when a kiss landed on the top of your head. 

Slowly, he pulled away to lay you back down onto his bed and snuggled to your side when your anxious eyes found his. One of his arms went under your head while the other took care to not accidentally touch the general area surrounding your wound when snaking around your waist to keep you as close to him as possible. 

His body heat was very much welcome, you snuggled your way into the crook of his neck in search of comfort. 

"Rest. I'll be there when you wake up." He whispered into your hair when his button-down crumpled in your hands. 

You sighed, allowing yourself to relax in his embrace. "I love you Five." You had to get it out before you let yourself fall asleep for you were scared that later would be too late. 

"I love you too." Delicate patterns were traced by his skilled fingers onto the bare skin of your waist making you shiver. Your heartbeat accelerated at his chuckle before stabilizing when you fell into a peaceful slumber.

#five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #number five #the boy #tua s1 #tua s2 #the umbrella academy #my fic #the swedes #fluff

[styleswithaseaview]

omg!! hi ily and i wanted to request a ced imagine where the reader and the weasley twins are besties and they really look up to ced? they also rlly admire how gentle he is with y/n and one day after ced and y/n's fourth date or smth when he goes to drop her off to her common room, they're like spying on them and y/n notices and she's like "u know what would make them lose their shit" and they kiss in front of them?? something cute like that! hopefully u understand :) have a nice day/night <3

lose their shit

warnings : swearing, kissing ?? i think that’s it

a/n : this request is SO cute i’ll cry-

taglist: @krasivayadarling @hoe4cedricdiggory @feliciamint @sugarywinterroses @faeinorbit @truly-insatiable @dianadiggory @animalcrackersinchurch @ceofcedric @annasdani @punkrific @anchoeritic @dogsandrocketsocks @blacksbooksx @oldschoolkiddo @amourtentiaa @inks-and-jinx @tomriddleswifey @kmcedric11 @orifortheweeknd @fallin-4-ya @incxndio @daisyyy2516

---

“Are you watching me get ready?” you say, putting down your eyeliner and turning to the two redheads, of whom are looming in your doorway as if you can't clearly see them.

“Maybe,” Fred says.

“Maybe not,” George finishes with a grin, sitting himself down on your bed, which you're sitting next to at your vanity table. You laugh dryly, turning back to the mirror.

“Why are you in here?” you say as you swipe a delicate blush across the apples of your cheeks - not that you'll need it with the way Cedric makes you blush by just speaking.

“Why can't we be? Is there a law that prohibits it?”

“Is the Ministry gonna snatch us?” George adds on, feigning astonishment at your baffling question. You scoff, raising an eyebrow.

“Is it ‘cause I have a date?” you say, tilting your head and looking at the boys in the mirror.

“Oh, really? Do you, now? I was unaware!” Fred says in mock surprise, though you're well aware he knew of the fact.

“Cut the bullshit, Freddie. Yes, I have a date with Cedric, and no, you will not be allowed to speak to him until I say so.” you sigh, shaking your head.

“Aw, you're no fun! We just wanna talk to your golden boy!” George says, drinking his nose at you.

“We did that last time, remember? You guys went on and on, talking to him about Quidditch and me - that was so fucking embarrassing - and then by the time curfew hit, we had no alone time!!” you say with a huff, furrowing your brows at the two.

“Right, right,” George replied with a roll of his warm hickory eyes.

“It's not our fault your boyfriend is incredible, he's a legend!” Fred says, throwing his hands into the air, and you smile.

“I'm well aware, but don't be throwing around ‘boyfriend’ in front of him, good lord. We've been on four dates, don't scare him.” You frown, touching up your hair.

“Fine,” George says, getting up with Fred following him, “But just so you know, he's whipped for you!” The last sentence is practically sung as he pulls the door shut behind him, and your cheeks are rouging in embarrassment, but you shake your head, wringing out your hands nervously.

---

“The library, huh?” you ask, sitting down next to Cedric, who laughs.

“Madam Pince is out, and the stand-in has been asleep for seventeen hours,” Cedric says matter-of-factly, pulling his arm around your shoulder as your head falls into his chest.

“Y’know, I think I'm perfectly fine with that,” you say cheekily, flashing a smile as you look up at the brunette, who hums in response and kisses your temple.

About an hour passes, and you're perfectly entertained with the boy’s presence, but your limbs are getting stiff as you lie in his lap.

“D’you wanna go for a walk?” he asks softly after a short pause in conversation, and you nod eagerly, pulling yourself up from your position.

You're hand in hand as you walk through the halls and out the door, strolling about the grounds freely until you're faced with a small, soft patch of grass under a willow tree, and fireflies are lighting up the leaves, creating a golden ambiance.

“Wow.” you breathe, eyes searching the tree that hangs above you.

“Yeah, wow,” Cedric says, and when you turn to look at him, his eyes are trained on you, evidently the subject of his praise. You're thankful for the dim lighting as you feel yourself blush, and you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

You're slowly inching closer to Cedric, and although you've been close with him countless times, your heart is a jackhammer in your ribcage, pounding in your ears. Soon his arms are around your waist and your eyes on his, and his own flick from your lips and back to your eyes.

Your breath hitches in your throat, and his warm grey eyes are beckoning in, but you're not the one to make the first move. He oh-so-gently captures your lips in his, hesitant at first, but your arms pull closer around his neck as a signal. Your heart is now still in your ribcage, and you’ve stopped breathing, merely basking in the pit of exaltation that builds in your stomach. The only thing on your mind is him, and when he breaks away to permit you some air, you're breathing heavily and your heart has resumed its pace.

“Once again,” you say softly, head now on his shoulder as he peppers kisses along your neck, “wow.”

“You're incredible.” Cedric looks into your eyes with an intensity that has your heart aching, and you blush furiously, burying your head into his neck. A beat passes, and you part your lips to speak.

“Ced?” you say slowly, turning your head to gauge his reaction. “What are we?”

“Well,” he starts, biting his lip to suppress a smile. “Id like f’you to be my girlfriend, if you'll have me.”

“Yes, please,” you say eagerly, kissing his lips once again as he smiles into you.

Once you break away, you're silent for a minute, relishing in the warmth of one another’s touch and the bliss that follows a first kiss.

“I think it's almost curfew, m’love, I should take you back.” Cedric is brushing a hair from your face, and you nod silently, kissing him very lightly again.

You begrudgingly leave your little sanctuary, hand in hand as your boyfriend leads you up to your common room, but you stop him in front of the portrait hole.

“Wait. I-I think Fred and George are in there, and just...beware, okay? They're kind of obsessed with you.” You sigh, and Cedric quirks a brow with a smile.

“And why is that?”

“They think you're my golden boy, and that you're perfect, and the latter I don't disagree with-”

“They got one thing right.” He smiles at you, thumb rubbing soft circles into your hand. You furrow your brows, silently asking for him to say more. “I'm yours.”

You feel yourself blush again, and you kiss him in replacement of a response. Then a thought pops into your head - a peculiar one - of what the twins would think if they saw you kissing him right now.

They'd go wild.

“T-this is going to sound weird, considering what I just said,” you begin after you break away, “But- could you kiss me when we get in there? It’d make the twins lose their shit.”

“Y’don’t have to ask me twice,” Cedric responds with a cheeky smile, and you laugh, stating the password and stepping through the portrait hole with your hand clasped in his.

Fred and George are lounging on the couch, and their brown eyes flick instantaneously to you when you walk in.

“How was-” Fred starts, but he stops when he sees Cedric’s hand on your waist and his other moving to caress your cheek.

Their jaws drop as Cedric pulls you into a soft kiss, smiling into your lips, and you respond eagerly, arms thrown around his neck. He pulls away and pecks your nose, murmuring a ‘did that do it?’ in your ear.

You stand up and regain your composure, nodding softly and muttering a soft goodbye to your boyfriend, who pecks you again before leaving.

Fred and George are silent - a rare occurrence - jaws hanging slack and eyes wide.

Then commotion breaks out, and they try to speak at once as you sit down nonchalantly.

“Y/N ARE YOU-”

“WHAT THE FUCK-”

You laugh softly, brushing hair from your face. Fred closes his mouth and looks to George, who attempts to speak slowly.

“Did I see that right? Are you- are you actually boyfriend-girlfriend now? Holy FUCK-”

“Yes, yes, and I know.” You laugh again, shaking your head. “He’s my golden boy now.”

#cedric diggory #cedric diggory imagine #cedric diggory fic

[jamestrmtx]

The Bebop Blues - [Animal Crossing | Tom Nook x Reader]

[Gender-Neutral Reader | Slow Burn + Tragicomedy]

Chapter Two | Oh My God, They Were Business Partners (Part 1 of 2 | His POV)

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

Friend.

That word -- however simple -- sounds off, yet he dismisses that when reminded of what it implies.

He wasn't one of those guys.

...Or was he?

Tom sighs and proceeds to wear a jacket for tonight, regardless of how little he feels the need for it. He wasn't taking any chances this time, and much less considering it is them who would have the spotlight tonight. The thought of spending another moment together at the beach makes his face warm up and his heart race twice as fast. Those feelings are fluttery enough to make him feel young again -- like a teen experiencing their first love.

"Ready to go, Tom?"

His heart takes a leap and he has to gather all the strength necessary in order to not display any shock. To cover up, he harrumphs, checks himself one last time in the mirror, and turns around to be greeted by a warm, smiling face. "Y- Yes," Tom blurts out, awestruck. He presses his tail against the counter to hide the fact that it's wagging just like a puppy's and controls his nose to keep it from twitching like a bunny's. "You look wonderful, by the way," he adds, gaining some courage. "The colours compliment you well."

"You think so?" the human asks, smiling. They then grin wide and perform a full, three-sixty spin to show him their outfit, this one mainly composed of a sharp-looking (dress/tux) and shoes fitting for the elegance it gives off, both with a colour opposite to their skin tone. A simpler but no less eye-catching accessory clings onto their head and an umbrella of equal splendour tops off their attire, in spite of it mostly being used to shield them away from the rain. They close the umbrella, step inside, and set it down next to the terminal when he suggests that they do so. "I forgot to buy some shoes that matched with my other outfit, so I had to improvise a bit!"

"...You look lovely, either way," Tom mutters, words nearly a whisper and further difficult to hear when loud thunder crashes from nearby.

"What?" they ask, still smiling, but now raising an (in-game, non-existent) eyebrow. "I, um… I couldn't catch that, I'm afraid."

His throat hurts with how dry it becomes. 

Mother Nature has saved him from a possible screw-up, so he takes a moment to close his eyes and thank her in his mind -- multiple times in a row, and quickly, too. Were Resident Services not air-conditioned, he would likely be sweating bullets by now. Electricity and it still being able to work in spite of the growing thunderstorm is yet another thing he's grateful for.

"We should wait until the rain stops a bit more," he says, squinting his eyes to direct a smile back at them. "Would you like to stay for some tea and snacks?"

As if jinxing the situation, Tom sees them pull out a napkin and sneeze into it, though it's evident they try not to be caught by him -- judging by how stealthy they are about it. They go as far as to look away and make the sneeze as quiet as possible, a sight amusing to him, but likely not so much to them. Still, he goes in favour of their wishes and says nothing about it.

"Sure -- That would be nice," they reply, nodding.

He nods back and gestures for them to follow him over to his desk.

"There's a spare jacket over there," he says, pointing with his eyes and nose to a corner of the room, where a few items lay hanging on the wall. "Feel free to use it, if you're cold."

"Thank you."

Though he can't see their face now that he has his back turned to them, Tom feels his chest warm up with the tone they've just used. Notwithstanding it being a simple and quick 'thank you', their voice is what stands out. It's a happy one, with a hint of surprise hidden in it. The thought makes him wonder if he'd caught them by surprise, yet he again reminds himself that he's still only their friend -- getting ahead of himself would do him no good. He'd rather be struck by lightning than even consider the idea of forcing his feelings on them or so much as persuade them into anything.

With that reminder, the man holds in a breath, sighs it out, and goes back to working on the tea afterwards.

He first takes the boiling water from the kettle and pours equal amounts in two cups. Then, he grabs two tea packets, opens them, and sprinkles them in, these instantly sending a subtle, herbal aroma into the air. The process is topped off by some honey, a pinch of sugar, and a mint leaf. A floral scent forms when all the ingredients combine and helps calm his busy mind down to a slight worry, though it doesn't last for long; he takes a quick glance back at the human the very moment he hears their footsteps and fabric shift as they slip the jacket on. Their presence had always left him a bit on-edge, though it's more prominent now that he's acknowledged a different kind of liking towards them. It's even more evident at the present, as it's hard to ignore them with Isabelle currently gone.

Rain drops hitting the roof create a lullaby and prompt him to check on how the line for karaoke's going so far, an observation obtained from the view of the window nearest to him. No more than two people can be seen waiting: one a villager and the other a tourist. The two entertain themselves through some small talk, but there's no denying by the look on their faces that they're not so hopeful about the rain ceasing anytime soon. Tom then shakes his head and lets out another breath when he realizes he's trying to buy himself time to avoid messing up further around the human. After an entire year of knowing them, it felt strange being alone with them now -- as it made him too awkward for his own good. 

To fight against that, he picks up both tea cups, turns around, and almost drops them when he sees the state they're in.

They're dozed off on his office chair, managing to look peaceful regardless of them being in such a cramped space. They have his jacket zipped all the way up, and their head is tilted to the side, cuddled up against the hoodie as faint snores leave their mouth, chest rising and falling with each one. It's a true, refreshing sight for Tom's sore eyes, but it ends quickly once another thunder crashes -- louder and undoubtedly closer than the first one.

The sound makes them wake up with a jolt and face him with wide eyes. A tired look combined with their shock causes for him to worry over their well-being more than he often did on a daily basis, so he pushes all his doubts aside and approaches them without further hesitation. "Here's your tea," he says, handing them one of the cups. "It's lemon and orange, with a bit of honey and mint." He smiles when they do and tries not to flinch when their fingers graze his hand as they reach for the tea. "Let me know if it needs more sugar. I'll go search for some snacks now."

"Thanks, Tom," they reply, smile brightening. They then set the cup down on the desk and shift in their seat. Steam rises as they observe the liquid, and a subtle frown shows up on their face. Their contemplative state lasts until more lightning strikes, snapping them out of their trance. "How… How long was I out, anyway? The rain's still going strong."

Growing more and more worried, the man sets his own cup of tea down, rummages through his belongings for a mirror, and gives it to them after. "Only ten minutes or so." His hand stiffens when they grab the mirror and he finds it hard to let it go; their fingers brushing with his palm only worsen his case twice as much. "I don't mean to pry or intervene in anything personal, but…" He breathes in, closes his eyes, and lets his tension out with a quiet huff. "Have you been getting enough rest lately?" His question is a mixture of awkwardness and concern as he tries to push through his uncertainty. "You…" He hesitates. "You seem tired today, even though it is your turn to perform for tonight first."

Just when Tom thinks he's controlled how flustered he feels around his crush, they smile again and contribute to him breaking the world record for fastest pulse.

"That's precisely why I haven't slept much these past few days." Their confession's blunt but serene, allowing his worry to lessen as they continue with, "I practiced for a whole month -- It's... It's a shame I won't be able to sing to a bigger crowd yet, I'll admit. I've been getting ready for far too long now!"

Fire alarms ring in his mind as an idea surges through all of his worries.

"Would you like to sing for me, then?" he asks, gulping tension away.

Silence stays for some time, a would-be good sign -- didn't the human look so taken aback by the offer.

"Of- Of course," they blurt out, eyes wide and mouth agape. "I'd love to!" Far too sudden for him to withstand, they set their cup down once more, stand up, and thank him in the form of a slap to his back -- albeit, carefully to avoid spilling his tea everywhere. "Honestly, I- I can't thank you enough for this. You're the best business partner there is, a- and I'm… I'm super glad to have met you, Tom!"

The human returns to their seat, retrieves their drink, and finishes off what little's left of it. Meanwhile, Tom stares in a daze, at a dire need to recover from both their actions and words alike. He drinks his own cup and later goes to look for some snacks, though he can't quite shake that feeling away. It's like trying to get the scent of herbs out of a shirt. No matter how many times the fabric is washed, the aroma still comes out and brings forth any memories related to it. He had to either keep washing it in hopes of finally getting rid of it -- or accept its fate, and either succumb to it or throw it in the garbage. None of these choices he's too sure of, so he relents with the flow of things for the moment being.

"Again…" Their voice turns quiet as he lays out a bowl of snacks next to their empty cup of tea. "Thank you. You should have some, too!"

The man smiles at them and nods, too stricken to use his words presently. 

A few moments later, he sits down beside them and meets their gaze. 

"...I should be thanking you for your company," he says, sentence rushing out of his mouth before he can even register the meaning behind it. "You've been a wonderful friend to me, (Y/N)."

They smile back and wink. "Right back atcha, Tom."

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

• • •

Updates will be weekly on Sundays from here on out!

#tom nook x reader #animal crossing x reader #gender neutral reader #male reader #female reader #romcom #tragicomedy #angst #fluff #slow burn

[official-weasley]

The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 8, Ch. 12

PART 8: WHERE IT ALL ENDS Chapter 12 - Now, Then and Forever

Charlie

“And then I looked him in the eyes and he just backed down.” Dominik slammed his beer bottle at the table, laughing so hard, finishing his story. Andrei almost fell from his seat and I brushed a tear away, laughing so much.

“Dom, there is no way the Ukranian Ironbelly just gave up when you didn't give him food.” I said, still laughing. His story was ridiculous and unbelievable but the way he was telling it was too funny not to listen.

“If that was true mate, you wouldn't be sitting here in front of us.” Andrei followed.

“You bastards, never believing me.” Dom rolled his eyes, knowing full well he was full of it. “You'll see when...”

But he didn't finish the sentence. His eyes widened as he looked at something behind Andrei and me. We both turned around and my heart skipped a beat when I saw Bill's Patronus, moving towards us.

“Charlie. Gather everyone you can. There is a battle at Hogwarts.” Bill's voice said and we all stood up at once.

“Alright!” I clapped my hands together. “For all we know they can be fighting for hours already. Get everyone and send out as many messages as you can, we need to go now!”

“There won't be time to set a Portkey, Charlie.” Andrei said.

“We'll apparate and hope for the best. We can't lose any time.” He nodded and we started gathering people around.

All across the village people started apparating, nodding at me or looking taken aback by the sudden change of atmosphere. I was just hoping we weren't too late and the people we have been getting to join us in all these years will be of help during the battle, no matter how many we will be able to inform on such short notice.

“Good luck, mate.” Andrei pulled me into a hug before apparating. We agreed that we should all apparate into Hogsmeade and go to the school from there since we didn't know what was happening and where the reinforcements will be needed most.

When I got there, everything was quiet. It looked like it was half abandoned. As more people appeared, the windows and doors of Hogsmeade houses started to open.

“C'mon! There's a fight going on at Hogwarts. Grab your wands and let's go!” I started running from door to door, shouting at the confused villagers.

“Who are you?” I turned around to see a rather large man standing there.

“Charlie Weasley. We brought more people. We heard there's a battle. Who are you?” The man looked astonished and frightened at the same time.

“Horace Slughorn.” He introduced himself. “I came here to get more people.”

“Good.” I nodded. “Then you can start pointing them to the direction where they should enter the School Grounds.” He didn't say anything, just nodded and hurried past me.

I waited a bit longer, for more people to appear but when I saw that several older villagers, unfit to fight, were shouting from their windows where they should go, I joined the group, marching towards the school.

Once we reached the barrier, we stopped. There were so many of us that I was certain we were going to win this without even knowing what was going on. We listened for a bit but couldn't hear anything. Then a few rows in the front started shouting literal battle screams. The rest of us joined as we wanted to let the fighters inside know that we are coming to help.

Once we got to the Courtyard, I didn't have time to look for any familiar faces or my family. Everything was in pure chaos. I needed a moment to focus and distinguish between our fighters and the enemy.

Before I knew it, I was throwing spells and jinxes in every direction. It was much worse and much more intense than the battle in the Sanctuary but I didn't lose focus. This was my moment to get revenge. To make as many of them fly in the air, losing their breath and getting hurt as I could.

It felt good to fight again and the pure adrenaline in my veins didn't allow me to get tired even though I felt as if I was fighting for hours. I saw Bill fight for a split second with the corner of my eye. And mum and dad as I turned around. There was a moment when I thought I saw Ginny but mum wouldn't allow her to fight, would she?

Before I could think twice about it, I already had two new Death Eaters standing before me, missing one's green light coming from his wand by millimeters. I was able to stun one and disarm the other and there was a new one making his way to me.

Before he could raise his wand at me, someone that I didn't know, hit him with a jinx from behind, and as his eyes widened, he hit the ground. I nodded to the person who saved me from the enemy and looked around to see where I should go next and who should I help to fight.

I felt something sharp hitting my back and my vision darkened. When I opened my eyes, I was still at Hogwarts but everything around me was white and blurry. I saw a tree in the distance and something shimmering and I knew I was by the Lake where I proposed to Nova. I carefully stepped forward, not knowing what is going on or why am I seeing this. I didn't feel any pain from the blast. My heart started racing and I felt like I always did when I held Nova in my arms. Warm, calm and loved.

“Hi, Charlie.” Tears blurred my eyes and I felt my whole body get numb. I turned around.

“Nova?” She was standing in front of me as real and as healthy as I had her in my memory. She was wearing a long white dress and the Dragon necklace I gave her for her 12th birthday.

“Am I dead?” I was lost for words. There hasn't been a day in 3 years that I didn't wish to see her face again.

“No. You're going back.” She smiled gently as she stepped closer.

“What is this, why can I see you?” My voice was shaking. I didn't believe I would ever see her again and here she was.

“I brought you here.” She was still smiling. “You are hurt, but you will be fine. I just took this opportunity to talk to you.” She explained.

“Is this real?” I took a step toward her, not really knowing what would happen if our bodies met. “Will I remember this when I wake up?”

“It's real and only if you want to.” She nodded.

“Can I touch you?” I asked desperately. I knew I was hurt, probably laying on the floor while different colors of spells, jinxes, and curses flew around me but I couldn't help to think that this was the best thing that happened to me since she died.

She took a step closer and grabbed my hand. My whole body started shaking when I felt her touch. I pulled her in a hug and buried my fingers in her hair.

“I missed you so much!” Tears started pouring down my face. Embracing her felt so real as if she never left.

“I know. I miss you too, Charlie.” I felt her chest shaking and I knew she was holding in the tears.

“Char.” How I longed to hear her say my name like that just one more time. “I brought you here for a reason.” She gently pulled away from me but I kept my arms around her waist.

“You broke your promise to me.” She sighed.

“What?” I didn't. I promised her I will be what I always wanted to be before I gave her my heart.

“You promised me you'll be happy.” She couldn't hold back the tears anymore. “This,” she placed her hand on my chest, “is not being happy.” It felt as if she was touching my soul. A certain heat radiated from her, keeping me calm and I felt content after a long time.

“I can't, Nova. I can't get over you. You are the love of my life and...” My voice broke completely and I felt as if I couldn't breathe, my throat tight. “...I know it's been almost three years but there isn't a day that I...”

“I know.” She stopped me as she cupped my face.

“Can you go to our...” She stopped me, putting her hand over my mouth, shaking her head. I was curious what this place was. Was it connected to the real world? Could she still be there?

“No, but I can feel you all the time.” Another tear marked her face. “Charlie, I didn't die so you could be unhappy. I want you to live your life not do your job and beat yourself with guilt over me.”

“Nova...” I tried steadying my voice. “You know me. You know I can't.” I pulled her into a tight embrace again. I didn't know how long this was going to last and I wanted to savor every second of it.

“Charlie...” She pulled away and lifted my chin. “You have to forgive yourself. What I did was my decision and I don't regret it. If I would have a chance to do it all over again, I would save you every time and there was nothing you could do to stop me.” She pressed her forehead to mine.

“I wanted to do it and you beating yourself over it is not worth it.” I opened my mouth but she stopped me.

“It pains me every day when I feel how you torture yourself. You can't live like this, Char.” She whispered.

“Then let me stay here with you.” I blurted out. “I don't want to live without you, Nova.” We were both crying but I felt so calm. I knew if I was back in my world, I would feel my chest ripping but I think her presence was keeping me calm. She was keeping me from falling apart.

“I can't let you do that.” She lowered her head, shaking it. “You have to live your life. Move on. Find a girl.” I winced at her last words. I could never do that. “Settle down. Have a family like you told me you wanted.” She looked me in the eyes but I looked away, it was too painful to think about things like that without her in the picture. “Remember, 2 girls and a boy?” She let out a small chuckle.

“But I wanted that with you. You don't understand...” I completely shut down. I couldn't believe I was talking to her again knowing I will soon open my eyes and never see her again. “I never wanted anything other than work with Dragons and then I met you and I fell in love and I had something I never even thought imaginable and I saw a different future for myself. Everything that I told you that day was created in my head because of you.” I couldn't stop crying and I didn't know if this was a blessing or a curse. I never wanted to let go of her.

“You know...” She started after a long silence. “There was a moment when I was considering coming back as a ghost.” I pulled away and looked at her. “But I knew it wouldn't be fair to you. I was hoping you would move on. It pained me knowing you would be with someone else but it would be better than this...” She pressed both her hands against my chest. “Charlie, I don't want you to be so sorrowful.” She started crying again.

“And what would you do if the situation was reversed?” I asked with a shaky voice. If she was going to tell me she would've moved on, I would promise her to try and do the same.

“That's not important.” She shook her head, I could barely hear her. “It is to me.” I cupped her face and kissed her. Her lips were as soft as I remember. I pressed her tighter onto my body. It was just as I recalled; tender but with so much hidden passion. I tried to memorize the feeling of her touch because I never wanted to forget it.

“I wouldn't.” She said very quietly almost as she was ashamed of her answer. “I could never...” She stopped talking when her voice broke. I knew she would feel the same as me if the situation was reversed and I knew she tried her hardest to lie to me just to convince me to move on but I couldn't blame her for failing. I wouldn't believe her anyway.

“Then how do you expect me to do so?” I kissed her again, feeling like I will never be so lucky again, to hold her in my arms. “It comforts me to know that even though you're gone, you can feel my emotions but my love for you will never go away. One moment we were fighting together and the next you were gone and I knew at that moment that everything I ever wanted with you, will never happen for me. It's not worth it without you.”

I buried my head in her shoulder, the look in her eyes, the understanding which told me she knew exactly what I was talking about because she would feel the same if it was the other way around. Her look pained me more than anything and after all these years, I have never wished so much to have her back.

“At least promise me you will forgive yourself.” She said softly after a long moment of both of us crying. It made me look at her. “Promise me, Char.” I didn't know what to say but I did feel different. I felt like something was lifted off my chest. I finally got the closure I needed all these years to know she was somewhere safe and peaceful.

“I promise.” I whispered, my voice rough. “Will I ever get to see you again?”

“I am already breaking a lot of rules by being with you for so long.” She chuckled.

“Tonks and Tulip would be proud.” I said, smiling. I still couldn't comprehend how this was happening to me and where exactly were we.

“Just remember that I am with you at all times.” She smiled reassuringly. It made me feel better, knowing that she was, in a way with me, even though I couldn't see her or hold her.

“Char.” I closed my eyes as her voice filled my ears and I wanted to remember it. “It's time to go back.” She was crying but her lips were curved up. She hugged me again and I closed my arms around her as tight as I could.

“You will be okay.” She whispered in my ear. “I promise I will be waiting for you when it's your time.” I felt much better about going back, knowing that one day, we would be together again, like we were meant to be. I could live with that.

“I love you, Nova. There are no words...” I felt my throat tighten again.

“I know. I feel it.” She tried smiling. “I love you too, Charles.” She buried her fingers in my hair as she pulled me closer and kissed me. My whole body was shaking, shivers down my spine and I could feel my heart beating just like the first time we were standing under this tree and I told her how I felt about her.

I suddenly felt as if the wind was blowing me away, I heard noises that I couldn't define and I felt my whole body ache as I opened my eyes, I knew I was back.

“Thank you, Nova.” I whispered to myself and wiped the tears from my face. I felt her everywhere. I felt her on my chest, her breath on my ear, her fingers in my hair. I felt her last kiss as if it never stopped. Something filled my chest and I felt hopeful. It was the first time since she passed away, that I knew, I will be okay.

THE END

A/N: I can't believe I just posted the last chapter! This is it! My first story is now officially fully on the internet. I don't know whether to smile or cry, it's kind of overwhelming, not going to lie! 🥺

I want to thank every single one of you that read it. Honestly, it means so much. I decided to post this story to get over my fear of being rejected and I wanted to prove to myself that I can commit to something and post every day no matter the consequences. Truth be told because I am new to Tumblr and still don't know how exactly it works, I thought I will just publish a chapter per day and have this blog as a sort of private library for my stories. I had no idea anyone would find it and read it, let alone comment on it and send me such nice messages about it.

I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed publishing it. With everything that is going on in the world right now, waking up and looking forward to posting the next chapter and reading through it one more time has brought me so much happiness and my love for writing has been at least doubled and I can't wait to read more stories and write and publish new ones!

I have always seen the internet as this negative space of bad criticism and negative energy but Tumblr has proved me wrong on an almost daily basis. Everybody is so nice and amazing and encouraging and I think we need more sites like this because a lot of people would love the internet more.

I don't even know what else to write, I can't find the words to express how thankful I am for everyone who interacted with me during this story. It's been so fun and made me laugh so many times, so thank you again! ❤️

With that being said, I have a secret...

I might have done something that I didn't quite expect I would do but I just couldn't help myself!

Part 8 of this story has been so overwhelming. From the beginning to the plot twist, to everyone freaking out about Nova dying. I have finished writing this story in February and publish the first part on 16th March. I knew back then what happens in Chapters 6 and 7. I knew how everything turns out and how the story ends. But once I published it, once it was finally “out there” I felt so bad and so sad for Charlie. My characters grew on me after so many months and when I published those two chapters I needed something happier. I needed some fluff, a happier ending. I started reading different stories but nothing helped. I figured I needed a happier ending for Charlie, for MY version of our Dragon lover.

So...

I did a thing...

I wrote myself a happier ending. An alternative, if you will. It's more of another chapter with a plot twist, I guess. My dilemma now is...should I post it tomorrow? Should I make it see the light of day or should I put it in a folder on my computer and never speak of it again?

Don't get me wrong, I love the ending. I LOVE Chapter 12. It's one of my favorites. But I love the other ending just as much. I want you to decide if I should publish it. I don't want to ruin anything for anybody in case you liked the ending and you are content with how the story ends.

I will be happy either way because this has been a lovely journey. So thank you again and have a nice day! ❤️

#harry potter hogwarts mystery #harry potter fanfiction #hphm charlie #charlie weasley #charlie weasley fanfiction #hphm #hogwarts mystery mc #the weasleys #hphm au #hphm characters #hphm fanfiction #weasley family #hp imagine #charlie weasley x oc #hogwarts mystery imagine #hphm imagine #charlie weasley imagine #the burrow #harry potter imagine #weasley fanfiction

[shadowdianne]

Okay but it would be really cute for a Cissamione prompt to be like, at a ball or something and Andy interrupts them before they kiss 🤣

Nine months later here I present…. Something Xd Hope you like it anon <3 And thanks for the prompt 😉

As always ever-present reminder that I might be a little bit of a brat when it comes to details… and far too invested in long sentences, lack of perfect edition if I happen to write this in the middle of the night as it is, and far too short actual dialogue. Apologies for everything and I do hope this is enjoyable.

Less of me, on with this :P

 Lights illuminated the room, pools of flickering flame that climbed their way through the decorations that had been carefully hexed a few hours prior, so they maintained their shape and form while floating soundlessly above the chatting crowd below. Marble and wood splayed beyond the lights, its colors swallowing whatever little droplets of that very same light that absconded its way into Narcissa’s hair for everything that Hermione was concerned.

Unperturbed, or perhaps far too lost in the other witch’s silhouette, the brunette witch didn’t quite see her fellow colleagues as they laughed and talked around her, conversations inane, lacking most of the times, insipid, and far too work-related in others even if today’s ball had been called in the hopes, perhaps, of creating a divisive line between work and pleasure. After all, Imbolc was shining bright among the magic present in the air and the ones at the ballroom, the members of the Ministry that is, weren’t the only ones celebrating such a moment. Beyond the curtains and veils and walls so carefully jinxed so no muggle could hear them above in the grey-surfaced city, many other members of the Wizarding Community would be enjoying the festivity as well. And yet, Hermione had caught herself realizing, half-apologizingly, despite the boredom their conversations had for her that she would have been one of the many others who couldn’t quite separate themselves from their work-related company if it hadn’t been -that is- for the far too good dressed witch that had made her entrance just late enough for the alcohol to have been poured and refilled more than twice already.

She had hoped she would come, she had given her own invite herself after all; a cacophony of nerves and what-ifs stuck at the back of her throat as she had played with the envelope made out in parchment and pressed celandine and violets that had left minute granules she has promptly shaken off as Narcissa had risen her brows and tilted her head, all angles and shadows and eyes that shone as conjured ice.

“Are you sure of this?” She had asked then, within the confines of the apartment that had become theirs even if none of them dared to speak such truth out loud. Despite the reality of Narcissa still living at the Manor that had become rightfully hers after the Trials and the divorce and some other legal affairs that had become far too long to enumerate while trying to find the better way to explain that nothing would please her and burn her more than seeing her there, among others, next to her, distance close enough that maybe, just maybe, she could grab her fingers and squeeze them between hers.

Hermione had bitten into her bottom lip then, sheets around her, the chill of mid-January chasing the fine hairs at the back of her hair as she moved up on their bed, moving closer, farther from where she had fished out the letter from, a simple, sober “And plus one” written at the very top of the envelope on itself. The words laconic, mute of the colors Narcissa’s eyes kept on bringing as she scanned the parchment again and again, as if waiting for the letters to slid of the page, transformed into fog and glass. She had taken Narcissa’s empty hand with one of hers then, kissing the palm, curving her fingers along so the blonde witch would mimic her as she laid her chin against their conjoined hands.

“Only if you want.” She had replied then, serious, expectant, willing, needy, burning.

But, the brunette witch now thought as she maneuvered herself away from her colleagues, away from the walls, away from the fire and flames that framed the edges of a room that couldn’t contain the happiness at seeing Narcissa entering and searching for her, finding her and promptly doing the same as she was doing, wasn’t Imbolc meant to be fire? Didn’t she deserve to have the one she wanted at her side then and there? She emitted a small smile as she finally moved close enough for Narcissa to grasp both of her hands by her wrists, thumb running through her pulse points, as she appraised her, blonde and dark on her hair, glass, and jewels on her hair, black and fire and white on her silhouette having forgone her usual Slytherin colors for something more appropriate for the evening and reason of the party itself.

Hermione knew her stunning, knew her beautiful, gorgeous, divine, and with that in mind, she licked her lips and reminded herself, dazedly, that despite her will and want and accepted offer at accompanying her neither of them had truly talked about how much or how little would they be willing to show. So, sadly, she pressed her lips together, blushing, always blushing, and -still trapped by Narcissa’s hands, turned them palm up so she could feel the tipping dance of the blonde’s own heartbeat against the pads of her fingers. A staccato of nerves and -yet- resolution.

“Been some time since I was here.” The blonde mentioned, almost in passing, eyes glued to the walls, to Hermione if the brunette narrowed her eyes enough to see the quick pupil movement. Anything, everything, that would shield them both to the onlookers, the ones who were trying to be subtle, the ones who weren’t. “I like what they have done for today. You will need to tell me if you managed to get them to do the eternal flame spell you talked me about.”

Narcissa had been pardoned. In a fashion, after a trial that had been far too long and work that had needed to be done inside the blonde’s own mind once she had risen her head towards the Wizengamot and admitted her part, subscribing to where her faults had lied, admitting her will of changing, of not quite leaving everything behind but ready to try to. She had paid, obliging to what both others wanted of her and she herself had asked of her. And yet her presence, her memory, was still followed by the very same eyes that glanced and looked and judged Hermione’s own presence in the Ministry, even after all those years, even after showcasing time and time again that her place there hadn’t been nepotism but something earned, something good.

So she jutted out her chin and pretended not to see them, none of them, as she glanced up towards the fires; the colors changing ever so slowly from bright red to purple and mauve if one stared at them long enough.

“They finally went with a spell over Incendio so the flames remained cold longer.” She informed, contrite and Narcissa scoffed a little as she -sadly- dropped her hands, grasping a glass that had floated towards her in the attempt to get her to start drinking.

“Their miss.” She said, taking a sip, liquid splashing slowing, lazily, as she appraised Hermione with the promise of a shadow of a smile, eyes slow, weighing, smoldering.

Maybe she should just kiss her, no matter the murmurs and scolds and gasps and questions that would come later. Or maybe she could just, simply, ask her to leave the place, find another one, secluded, safe.

“I…”

Her train of thought was interrupted, however, when a profile appeared amongst the many others around them all, the instantaneous wave of panic not appearing as it had once done but yet making her tremble with the realization they were about to be interrupted by none other than Narcissa’s sister as Andromeda promptly abandoned her own conversation with some members of a department Hermione didn’t truly focus on, and strode towards them with the resolution of someone about to start an equally long conversation with them both.

“Your sister is here.” She said in the spare seconds they had, the flashing idea of convincing Narcissa to climb to her own office, beyond the hall, beyond the elevators, beyond the sleeping memorandums turning into ash.

While Narcissa baited looks, Andromeda was a very different beast altogether. She had been, after all, the good sister as far as the general public was concerned. She wasn’t followed nor judged but was still as looked at as the others who have been there, on their own, during the war. She was invited to the usual feasts, however, either by ones or others wanting to get some edge out of the almost perfect living copy of Bellatrix Lestrange herself and so as she moved everyone deferred around her as her smile caught Narcissa’s eyes the second the blonde turned towards where Hermione’s gaze was lost, shoulders rising in surprise at the sight.

“I didn’t know you had been invited Cissy! I would have sent you an invite but I was already a plus one…”

“I was, kind of a last-minute thing, though, hence why I couldn’t find a moment for…”

They were warm to each other, the sadness that had peppered their conversations having been diluted some time ago. And so, Hermione couldn’t blame Andromeda for wanting a moment with her younger sister. Decided to move away, leave them so they could be as free as they could be among so many others, she stepped at her right, a passing caress on Narcissa’s forearm that could very well look intentional to others who were paying enough attention.

“Andy.” She said, all smiles and warm eyes but the other witch wasn’t having any of it and, grabbing her by the very same point her sister had had mere moments before, she spun Hermione until she was between them both, head tilted, mischievous.

“Oh no you don’t.” She said merrily. “You are going to stay here and listen as I ask my sister why she hasn’t kissed you yet. Noisy ones be dammed, Cissy, have you seen her?”

Oh, well. Or she could just question if she could ask for a non-verbal approach of disappearing without a trace.

#cissamione #prompt #Anonymous

[offscreenblogs]

I posted 35 times in 2021

10 posts created (29%)

25 posts reblogged (71%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 2.5 posts.

I added 25 tags in 2021

#league of legends - 4 posts

#arcane league of legends - 3 posts

#owl house - 3 posts

#memes - 3 posts

#owl house memes - 2 posts

#the owl house - 2 posts

#arcane vi - 2 posts

#arcane caitlyn - 2 posts

#arcane jinx - 2 posts

#lol jinx - 2 posts

Longest Tag: 45 characters

#f**k me this reblog took way to long to write

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Striking when the meme Iron is hot here. i am not sorry...

7 notes • Posted 2021-11-13 13:04:10 GMT

#4

To all you Rengar mains out there, im not apologising

10 notes • Posted 2021-08-07 16:02:53 GMT

#3

I Meme’d this scene because why the fuck not...

58 notes • Posted 2021-08-14 20:59:34 GMT

#2

(Arcane Meme) The brute, the officer and the Jinx: Dinner and “entertainment”

Vi: yo powder, we’re back from Bildgewater.

Caitlyn: and we brought dinner for later.

Jinx: ah cool, seafood tonight?

Vi: yep, hope you like tuna.

Jinx: you know me so well :)

Caitlyn: also, we’re inviting Jayce and ekko over for dinner so try to be as hospitable as possible.

Jinx: h-hos-hospita what?

Vi: basically don’t be you for five minutes.

Jinx: pfft, relax. i can chill for twice that long. maybe triple. (or maybe even qua-triple)

Caitlyn: *muttering* highly doubt it

Jinx: what was that?

Caitlyn: nothing.

*3 hours later*

*jinx, Ekko and Jayce in the living room while cait and vi prepare for dinner*

*Ekko hear’s loud grunts from the kitchen*

Jayce: *takes long sip of tea*

Ekko: Powder, what’s that noise?

Jinx: oh that’s just Vi, she’s with cait pounding the tuna.

Jayce: *spits out tea*

Ekko: SHE’S FUCKING WHAT NOW!?!?!?

Cait: DAMMIT JINX!!!!!

Jinx: what?

72 notes • Posted 2021-11-21 18:14:53 GMT

#1

(Arcane meme) The brute, the officer and the Jinx: In-law issues.

Vi: ok sis, now that me and cupcake here are together. you gotta stop going on crime sprees ok?

Jinx: aww come on sis thats like my favourite thing.

Vi: Powder...

Jinx: fine...for you sis. i promise to stop going on rampant crime sprees.

*2 days later*

*phone rings*

Cait: hello? *phone rambles* Terrorist attack? *phone rambles* who’s the suspect? *Phone rambles* ...*angry sigh*...i’ll be right there.

*hangs up phone*

Vi: its powder isn’t i-

Cait: get her on the phone get her on the phone I WANT HER ON THE PHONE RIGHT NOW!!!!

*meanwhile, 20 kilometres away*

*jinx mobile phone rings*

Jinx: HEEEY how’s my favourite (not really) in-law doin-

Cait: what did you do?

Jinx: jeez, nice to see you too-

Cait: WHAT...DID...YOU...DO?

Jinx: ok first, i was minding my own business.

Cait: *slams desk* BULLSHIT!!!!!!

124 notes • Posted 2021-11-19 20:07:36 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[idrellegames]

Wayfarer Update 2020-12-31

Hello friends!

Sliding in here with the last update of the year (I’m in the land of Pacific Standard Time, so I still have a while left before 2020 disappears forever). 

Chapter 1 Updates

Yesterday I hit the +50k mark for new content! All branches of the end-of-chapter fight sequence are done. I still have 3 ending scenes to write before I can start editing and coding, but the update is getting closer to being finished. 

I mentioned this in my last dev log, but the coming update is going to be a pretty large one. Aside from the new story content, there will be:

Updates to the combat system, which includes a special event if you happen to get injured twice in a combat scenario (it may be tempting to reload and try a different path or try to get better dice rolls, but I do hope players will follow through on the events as they pan out for you!)

Improved journal page, which aside from dividing out into different sections for each section, also includes a help page that explains some of the game’s mechanics

Appearance customization - yes I know I said I wasn’t going to do this because I don’t like setting variables I’m not going to use regularly, but I hit a part where I really wanted to know what the MC’s height was and whether they had hair or not and... well... here we are. There will be some interesting things happening with tattoo and scar selection, too (depending on how you play, there is the opportunity for your MC to gain more scars throughout their journey)

Nickname customization - Aeran calls the MC by a diminutive of their given name and there will be an opportunity to set this after the first Exploration page. If you selected one of the default names, a diminutive will be given (you can change it if you want). If you’re playing with a custom name, you can create your own. Because of game mechanics, you won’t be able to skip this. 

A records counter which keeps track of fun things, like how many skill checks you pass (or fail) and how many times your MC gets knocked unconscious so you can be haunted by your successes and failures

Your first look at the post-chapter level up screen, where you’ll have a chance to improve your skills and, depending on your choices, unlock Perks. 

Just a gentle reminder that Wayfarer’s content is rated Mature and includes graphic depictions of violence, explicit language and drug and alcohol use (I will be updating the content warnings to include the last one). 

General Updates

January’s going to be a busy month. The next update is at the top of the priority list, but we’ve got the Patreon and Discord coming, too. Once all of that drops, I’ll likely be taking a break because I’ve been working non-stop since November and I’m starting to feel a little burned out. 

@parkerlyn​ is starting an informal IF-oriented NaNoWriMo in January where the goal is to focus on personal goals rather than word count. You can check out her post here if interested! I’m not sure to what capacity I will be participating, but, fingers crossed, I’ll be starting the Route B branch of Chapter 1 once the update goes out. 

Happy New Year, friends. Don’t want to jinx anything, so I’ll leave it at that--see you in 2021!

#dev log #wayfarer game #interactive fiction #twine game #twinery

[blizzardfluffykpop]

Red-Letter Day

Summary: This week has been the cherry on the top of the month. The straw that broke the camel’s back.

Vernon X Reader

Word Count: 1,380

Requested by @sweetie-yoongi7 : hi can i request a vernon imagine where he's been neglecting you lately and not being the best boyfriend and the stress of comeback gets to him and he snaps at you and its angsty but then it ends in some good ole fluff ? 💖

Oneshot

This week has been a week from hell, my boss has forced more work onto me. While my other coworkers get to relax and create things at their own pace. I have to put in twice the work in for a deadline on Monday. From spilling hot coffee all over my favorite work shirt. To forgetting my coat when it was pouring down rain. And to top it all off my boyfriend, Vernon, has completely forgotten our anniversary. I know he has a tough working life too, but I made arrangements way ahead of time. Putting reminders everywhere and I circled red on our calendar. But when I showed up dressed to the nines, with him being a no-show. I ended up eating a full course expensive meal by myself, on our anniversary. It’s our fifth anniversary, I know I shouldn’t be as mad as I am. But this, I can’t believe it, through thick and thin we’ve always been by each other’s side. I finished my massive project at work today. It would have been nice to finally relax and talk with him over a nice dinner.

I thought he would remember, but I guess the comeback is getting to him. This month he’s been in the studio way more than my arms. I know it’s their fifth year together as a group and this is a crucial comeback. But even when they debuted and we first got together. It’s like he’s a different man, when he does come home it’s only to sleep or pick up a snack. No hi or bye, and with this week being hell I just wanted to see him again. Talk about everything and work through it together. But no, he decided he had better things to do then celebrate our fifth anniversary. My hands tighten up on the steering wheel, why is everything so hard. I want a hug, and for us to make each other’s worries go away.

When I get home the lights are all out, and he’s not home. I know the boys wouldn’t make him miss such an important night. I decide to wait for him to come home and pull on my comfy pajamas. I sit on the couch watching a sit-com waiting for Vernon. It’s about 1 am when he shows up and when he reaches the couch I ask him softly, “Where were you?” And that’s when he snaps, “WHERE WAS I? I was at the studio making a new song, where do you think I was?” Here, we go, I know I’m not going to be able to hold my tongue. “WOW, THANKS FOR REMEMBERING SUCH A RED-LETTER DAY. You know I’ve had a fucking bad week too, you don’t have to snap at me like you’re all that.” He glares at me, “I’m all what?” his voice condescending, “That you’re better than me because you make music all day. Our anniversary was today and we made plans--” He rolls his eyes, “OH BOO HOO, YOU SIT IN AN OFFICE ALL DAY. YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO TELL ME MY JOB IS LESSER.” I square my shoulders and stand up, “I WASN’T CALLING YOU’RE JOB LESSER, BUT YOU JUST MADE MINE SOUND LIKE THAT. SO, IT’LL ONLY BE FAIR, VERNON!” Our yelling is probably loud enough for our neighbors to hear. “OH FUCK OFF, it must be so easy just to sit there and twiddle your thumbs and type a few words a day. I have to make a whole fucking album--” I cut him off, “YOU MAKE THE WHOLE FUCKING ALBUM, WHAT ABOUT ABOUT JIHOON HUH? MY ASS, VERNON I WORK JUST AS HARD AS YOU, AND STILL FIND TIME TO TAKE CARE OF OUR RELATIONSHIP!” He rolls his eyes at me, “I FORGET ONE TIME--.” “THIS ISN’T JUST ABOUT THAT, YOU’VE BEEN PUSHING ME AWAY THIS WHOLE MONTH, JUST TO WORK ON AN ALBUM. When we made plans you were so ready to celebrate, and then this month you’ve just been a dick. From not sleeping in the same bed, or leaving before I even get up without a goodbye. You’re gonna tell me that you forgot one time? THIS WHOLE MONTH YOU’VE BEEN ANYWHERE BUT HERE! You know what, that’s a good idea, I’ll see you when you get over yourself.” 

I grab my wallet and throw on a jacket and my shoes. With my keys and phone in hand, I run out to my car. I know tears are streaming down my face as I open my car door and lock it. I put my key into my ignition and turn the engine over and play my music too loud for this time of night. As I get ready to pull out of my parking space I see Vernon running out to me. I shake my head and speed off with tears in my eyes. 

I end up at a convenience store, wiping my tears. I walk in and grab two pints of ice cream. Eating my feelings out felt nice, as I sat in my car thinking of everything. Why can’t I just be an eighteen-year-old running after my dreams and not knowing how painful life is again. The older I get the more life hits me with bricks. Crying in my car and eating ice cream had to be the best decision I’ve ever made. I let it all out before deciding to return to our apartment. I know nothing will ever be solved unless we work through it. I walk up the steps, trying to avoid the apartment as much as possible by not taking the elevator. I get there and see Vernon sitting against the door. He sees me and looks like a lost puppy, my heart aches and forgives him without even thinking twice. We’ve both had a hard month, this week was just the cherry on the top.

He sees me, he gets up, he's visibly shaking and still crying. I don’t know how our neighbors deal with us. My tears start flowing down cheeks again, with a shaky hand he pulls out a box of chocolates. I pull the other pint of ice cream out of my coat pocket. I ask him softly, “You got locked out of the house, baby?” He nods, his lips pouty, and I unlock the door. “Let’s talk this out in the living room.” He nods when we sit down at the coffee. We apologize at the same time, “Jinx” I say softly, “I’m sorry for snapping.” I nod, “I’m sorry too”  We place our stuff on the coffee table, and I carefully grab his hand. 

He laces our fingers, “I know today was a red-letter day for us,...” I nod, “It happens,... we both have so much on our plate.” He nods, “Well, I made a song,...” I nod for him to go on, “It’s about us,... It’s going to be released on the album, Jihoon likes it. He told me, ‘Young Love, ahh, so sweet’.” I laugh, “I was told to write a paper while my coworkers got free time. I wrote about you,... I was asked to write about what makes me calm down. But what makes me calm is you, you just know what to do. Your energy is so mellow--.” He grins, “That’s why I like your energy, you’re so vibrant--” I shake my head, “Yeah, but your style, have you seen it?” He laughs and squeezes my hand. “I love you, Vernon.” He grins, “I love you too, (Y/n).” 

We both get up from the coffee table. “How about tomorrow, we both go wherever you want?” He asks and I shake my head ‘no’ and tell him, “How about we go where we both feel comfortable.” He grins and kisses my forehead, and agrees. After putting away the ice cream and chocolate, we go up to our bedroom.

With that we fall asleep, tuckered out from everything, holding onto each other. Arguments happen, they’re not preventable but it’s solving them is what makes a relationship work. Working together is hard especially if your views conflict. But in a relationship, you look past that and into each other’s souls. For we all are lonely, just wanting love and care when times get rough.

#venon #hansol #vernon x reader #hansol x reader #soft angst #seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt #vernon angst #vernon fluff #hansol fluff #hansol angst #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #fluff #vernon x you #hansol x you #vernon chwe #hansol chwe #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #i meant for this to be hard angst but my heart is too soft for vernon :((