#(yes there is a real person behind here and I am constantly in awe)

[sightburdened]

Me, participating in the Munday trend twice? Second time in four years? Absolutely.

[drunkenbagel]

Enchanted to meet you - Part 2

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Spanish f!reader Contents: slow burn, a bit of strong language/swearing, mentions of alcohol and drunk behaviour, implied sexual ambiance/tension but not actual smut. Word count: 3,1k A/N: I had some issues with my acc, which got deleted (and all of my posts/likes/etc🥲) but I'm back! anyways, here is the second part to the story! hope you like it :) Taglist: @canpillowscry @lxdyred (thank you so much for reading! <3) Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

You sighed while picking up your things from your work table and started heading to the elevator.

“Nora, it's not like that. I think you're taking it a little out of context.”

“What?! You're telling me that somehow befriending Pedro fucking Pascal isn't that big of a deal to you? Is that what it is? What the hell has New York done to you?”

“I'm not saying that! It's just- I don't think I am his public friend anyway.” You sighed again. “He's a celebrity, and I'm just a regular girl. Hell, I'm sure he sees me as his kid. He actually calls me kid, Nora. And I just happen to have the biggest crush on this man! Do you know how embarrassing that is?”

“Well, you got me there. But what if he's faking it and he likes you too? You may have a chance. You can still manifest your way into this man's ass anyway.”

You snorted loudly, and some people on the hall gave you a weird look.

“You always know how to cheer me up, that is a fact.”

“And I'm also the funniest, best sibling you ever had” she said laughing too.

“You are literally my only sibling, Nora. You're my rant dump. The best racoon, maybe. I could give you that title.”

“Are you kidding me? You know I love racoons. They're my favorite beings. And they are so funny too. I actually feel weirdly honored.”

It had been a little more than four months since you met Pedro, and the two of you had been getting closer. In the first month of knowing each other, much to your surprise, he gave you his personal number, and since then you started exchanging text messages almost constantly. Especially since you didn't saw each other again apart from a couple times at the beginning of your friendship, because he had a lot of work and had to travel back and forth. Schedules are real shitty sometimes, more since yours both didn't exactly coincide.

The elevator made a small sound and the doors opened.

“You know that I-”

Your face fell and you froze as you saw the secretary speaking with someone that looked an awful lot like Pedro. You instinctively hid behind a wall on a random hallway.

“y/n? You alright?”

“He's here.”

“What? Who are you-”

“He is here. At my work! What is he doing here?” you whisper-shouted while cautiously looking at him again. There was a brief silence on the other line.

“You mean to tell me that Pedro showed up at your work? Out of the blue?”

“Yes! He was supposed to be in Canada for some filming or some shit! Oh my god, what do I do?”

“Eres tonta?” Nora said. “Go talk to him like a normal person, estúpida! I bet you're hiding somewhere now.” (Are you dumb?)

You straightened and looked around as if you could see your sister looking at you.

“I fucking knew it” she said, and you heard her laughing on the other line.

“Shut up! You know this kind of things make me anxious. What do I do now? I look like shit, Nora.” You looked at your reflection on a nearby sign and started to fix your hair a little. “What is he even doing here? Why not tell me he was coming?”

“It's something called a surprise, y/n. You show up uninvited.”

“Ha-ha” you mockingly laughed. “What should I tell him? How do I react? I don't want him thinking I'm a big weirdo by making things awkward or something.”

“Just talk to him, for starters!” she scolded you.

“About what?! Hey, funny seeing you here, do you want to hang out? No! I don't think we can be seen in public without him being recognized, and less with me. Go somewhere closed? Same thing. And I can't take him to my shitty house, that place is a fucking dump and you know it.”

“Okay, okay. Breathe, y/n. Please.” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, then exhaled it. “Good. Now, maybe he just wanted to say hello, and go about his day. You're getting a bit ahead of yourself.”

“I know, I know. Okay, I'll just... Casually go out. I guess?”

“Good. And keep me updated right away or I'll call the cops.”

You laughed while shaking your head. Oh how you loved her.

“Thank you. Talk later. Bye!”

“Bye, you dumbass” she said, and hung up before you could say anything else.

You looked into your reflection again, and went to the exit as if you didn't see him in the first place. Only when you got out, he wasn't there anymore. You frowned. Maybe I just imagined it? You shook your head, and went to the door, when the secretary called your name.

“y/n! Here, Ashley told me to give you these reports for Monday. Oh, and by the way, there is someone waiting for you over there” he said, pointing towards the small book aisle that was on the waiting room.

You then saw him standing there in between shelves, looking through some books. You couldn't help a small smile from appearing in your lips.

“Thanks, Carter. See you next week” you said, waving at him while you walked to Pedro. You stood behind him, and he was so concentrated on the books that he didn't hear you approaching.

“Hm, Cien años de soledad, good book.”

He instantly whipped his head to your direction, a little startled, but when he saw your face he smiled widely.

“Hey!” he said, and grabbed you by your shoulders to give you a brief side hug.

“Hello. What are you doing here? I though you worked.”

“Yeah well, we finished a bit earlier than expected and I don't have to go back until Tuesday, so I wanted to surprise you. I hope that's okay.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sure. I just- I don't know if you wanted to...” be seen with me? “Anyways, fancy a drink? I sure as hell could use one. Or two”

“Oh, hell yes” he groaned.

“Good, because I know a good Irish pub just in this street.”

“Después de tí, señorita. You lead the way” he said while bowing slightly. (After you, young lady.)

After a bit of small talk and a 5 minute walk, you two walked into McCarthy's, your favourite pub ever. You had gone a couple of times with Ana and some friends there. Had a whole lot of good alcohol too.

You sat on a table that was a bit hidden from the rest, and you thanked Marcus for that. The kind bartender had been your friend since you started being a regular here. You two even dated for a while back then, but in the end you both preferred to stay as friends. Also, the amount of times he had to drive you home drunk was a bit embarassing.

After what seemed to be the shortest time of laughing and drinking, Marcus approached your table.

“Hey lass, we're closing. You need a ride?” he asked while putting a cloth on his shoulder.

“Already? Thanks for telling me, Marcus” you said, words a bit slurred, clearly a bit drunk. “Don't worry, I can walk home”

“You sure? I don't mind driving you, you already know that.”

“Yeah I'll-”

“I'll go with her.”

You two turned to look at Pedro, who had been awfully quiet during your coversation. Marcus stared at him for a little while, and then at you.

“Wolf?”

“Rabbit. Soft, white rabbit” you answered laughing, remembering the code names you made back then. He wanted to know if he was bothering you or if you were okay with that. He was such a caring friend. Pedro just looked at you two back and forth, without understanding. He didn't know why that interaction bothered him, but it did.

“Alright, then I'll have to ask you to leave like the rest so I can close up for the night.”

You two picked up your things, and on the way out, Pedro got ahead of you to open the door. You stopped briefly to say goodbye to Marcus before leaving.

“Always nice seeing you ‘round here, lass. Take care, please” he said.

“Thanks, Marc” you said, bringing him closer to give him a hug. After that, you kissed his cheek, and left off to the door. You didn't notice, but Pedro was clenching his jaw for the whole time, for a reason unknown to him too.

After a small silent walk, you went to reach for your phone, and in the process you realized your keys where missing.

“Shit. Please, no, no, no...” you muttered while frantically searching your bag.

“What happened?” Pedro asked, a little worried. “You alright?”

You sighed, defeated.

“I left my keys at work. And they are obviously more than closed right now. And until Monday” you said, groaning loudly. “Joder! I will have to call a locksmith, and then make copies of keys... Shit, this month is going to suck so fucking bad.” (Fuck!)

“You could stay at my place.” The words left Pedro's mouth before he could stop them, and he panicked for a second. You froze too, feeling your already alcohol-warm cheeks heating up. Did he just say that? You raised your eyes to meet his.

“Are- Are you sure? I don't want to disturb you.”

“C’mon, kid. I have some free days and an empty home. Besides, we could continue the party there if you're up for it.”

“Oh, like you could handle it?” you said, challenging.

“I know damn well I can” he answered, now widely smiling.

“¿Me estás retando?” you asked. (Are you challenging me?)

“Oh, sí.” (Oh, yes.)

“Then it's on.”

When you arrived there, you started drinking basically a bit of everyhthing on Pedro's shelves, and it ended with the two of you being very drunk. You had drank quite a lot more, never backing up on the challenge, even when he told you that you had already won, while trying not to piss his pants because you had slipped and fell to the floor.

“I know I won! I always do” you said, laughing as you got up.

“Okay, kid, you win. Now let's get you to bed” he said while still laughing, also visibly drunk. He took your hand to lead you, and you felt sparks just from that touch. “It's one of my guest rooms, so you don't have to worry about anything. You have spare chargers on the drawer by the bed, and in the bathroom are also spare hygiene things if you need them.”

“Y’have any clothes?”

“Ah, yes. Wait a moment” he said, and stumbled a bit to his room next door. Meanwhile you tried to take your shoes and pants off on your own, but given that you were heavily drunk, it was quite a challenge. Pedro arrived short after with a shirt and some plaid pajama bottoms.

“Here” he said, leaving the clothes beside you in bed. You then tried to take off your sweater, but it got stuck on your head. You heard Pedro laughing, but he helped you get out of it. He folded it the best he could, and went to leave it on the chair beside the bed. “I'll leave this here for-”

He turned around, but you were right behind him. So close. Only in your underwear. His laugh faltered, and he shallowed hard, feeling his head spin.

“Pedro” you whimpered, while tugging at his shirt. He could feel his heart thundering in his ears. He knew he was attracted to you, but you never gave him any clue that it was reciprocal.

He saw you moving your lips, saying something, but the loud sound of his own beating heart didn't let him hear what you said. You tugged again at his shirt. He instinctively started to take his shirt off. Was this happening? Was this really going to happen?

Without breaking eye contact, you took the shirt, and reached for the clasp of your bra. He closed his eyes and shallowed again. Okay, Pedro, calm down. Blindly and not wanting to intrude you, he took off his jeans. He then felt you taking his hand and leading him to bed. When his leg touched the matress, he opened his eyes and found you looking back at him, but you were wearing his shirt on. Wait-

You threw your arms around his neck and pulled him towards you, collapsing on the bed. Pedro tried to avoid falling with his full weight on you, but you were hanging off of him for dear life.

“Warm” you whispered sleepily, clutching his head onto your chest. He radiated a lot of heat, and you found that very comforting. That's why you asked him for the shirt he was wearing. Now you were using him as your personal heater.

“Wait, y/n- I think I-”

You shushed him, and when he realized what was going on, he let out a small laugh. Without getting out of your grasp, he took the duvet and covered you two with it. Then, he accomodated himself on top of you, since you didn't seem to be letting him go anytime soon. You were also warm, and within a few minutes, he fell asleep too.

You woke up some hours later, with a dry mouth and a proper headache. You also felt your chest heavier than usual, so you opened your eyes briefly, and saw Pedro laying on your chest. Ah, it's just him.

Wait.

You opened your eyes abruptly this time, looking at him again. He had his arms around your waist, and you had yours in his hair. You the realized that you had only his yesterday's shirt on, and with one brief look below the covers, you saw that he was practically naked too. You frantically tried to remember last night's events, but you only remembered getting into his house. Then, all blank. Oh no, what the hell did I do?! Did you just ruin the brief but amazing friendship you had? Did you two had sex?

You then started making your way out of the bed, trying not to wake Pedro. You picked up your phone and made your way into the kitchen. Your body was sore as hell. While you poured a big water glass on the sink, you dialed Nora's number. She picked up at the fourth tone.

“Hello?”

“La he cagado. Monumentalmente.” (I fucked up. Tremedously.)

“¿Qué has hecho? ¿Estás bien?” she asked, sounding a bit worried. (What did you do? Are you okay?)

“I think I had sex with Pedro.”

There was a small silence. “What do you mean 'you think'? Did you or not?”

“I don't remember, Nora! I just- We drank a lot yesterday, and I woke up with only his shirt, on my underwear, and him practically naked too! I am freaking out!” you whisper-screamed while running your hand over your hair.

“Oh shit” she laughed. “You two had sex!”

“Don't laugh! I don't know what to do, he is-”

You felt two hands snake around your waist, and a raspy voice say good morning, beautiful into your neck. You froze, and ended the call.

“Hi” you said in a whisper.

“Did you have a good sleep?”

“Y-yeah... You?”

“Definitely. After last night's, I slept like a baby.”

You shallowed. Oh no. So you two really had sex. Sounded like very good sex. And you didn't remember! Fuck. The universe was taunting you.

What you didn't know was that Pedro woke up as soon as you left the room, following you to the kitched without you noticing. And, of course, heard the whole conversation. He then had the wickedest idea, and wanted to test you on how far you'd go without telling him what you really thought.

“What do you say? Do you wanna go again? Or are you too sore? I hope I wasn't too harsh on you.”

“No, I'm...” he kissed the back of your neck, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. “I'm fine”

“Good, then...”

He turned you around and lifted you by your thighs, forcing you to cling your arms around his shoulders and legs around his waist. You let out a small yelp, and buried your head in his neck as he carried you into the bedroom again. Your heart was beating very fast, and you thought it was going to pop out any moment now.

He laid you down on the bed, and trying to contain the laughter, he lowered his forehead to touch yours.

“Are you sure you're okay? You're a little tense.”

“Yes” you answered, a little too fast. It took everything in him not to burst laughing, and he tried to cover it by leaving small pecks on your neck. You sighed at the feeling, but tensed up again when he started lowering his mouth. One of his hands started to lift your shirt over your hips when you couldn't take it anymore.

“Stop! Stop please. I can't do it” you said, pushing him and getting off the bed.

“What? You can't do what?” he said, trying not to break character.

“I just- I cannot pretend anymore. I'm sorry if something happened, but I don't remember shit about yesterday and I'm proper freaking out right now. I don't want to ruin our friendship based on some drunk decision, and-”

You stopped talking when he suddenly burst out laughing. You looked at him in confusion.

“What? What's so funny?”

“y/n... Your- Your face-” he said, wheezing.

“Stop fucking laughing! I'm serious.”

“Nothing happened, love. I was just messing with you. I wanted to see how far you'd go.”

“Wha- But you were... I-I am... And you said...”

“I know what I said” he answered, wiping his tears. “I heard you on the phone”

You felt your cheeks burn.

“All of it?”

“All of it.”

“And you were going to let me do this, you fucking asshole?” you said, hitting him with a pillow.

“Ow! You think I'd let you? That hurts my feelings” he said, while fake pouting.

“Oh, I'm going to hurt you, Pedro. Te voy a matar!” (I'm going to kill you!)

You started hitting him repeatedly with said pillow, until both of you were laughing and panting on the bed.

After that, the bond between you two grew stronger, now going from friends who only texted to best friends who chatted, video called and saw each other at any chance they had. You had no idea how everything in your life was going to change.

[bunnihearted]

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅

it all keeps going round and round in my head. i think about it constantly and im really trying not to, but i just cant stop ruminating and obsessing about it. i go over it again and again and again in my head. i could've done things different; but that's easy to say now that i have received more context that i didnt have then. plus i was in a certain space concerning my fear of letting ppl close and all of my issues regarding that. i really tried so hard but it takes time.... that's just how i am. and i dont blame anyone for not finding me worth enough to wait it out. at the same time... it doesnt really take years and years, it mostly doesnt even take a full year. im only asking to get to know someone steadily but a little bit slower rather than the full speed that most ppl seem to operate on. i cant believe anyone could ever like me plus im scared of being abandoned and hurt.... which is what everyone has done to my except my mom. everyone else i've known has left me and then im like.. what even is the point in getting to know someone, care about them, only for them to ditch me at a point i wont even see coming or have the power to stop?

anyway. that doesnt matter. i know the only way for me to ever connect to ppl is to shove all of that down and pretend i dont mind the blood dripping out of my mouth from biting myself in the tongue. i have to put on a mask and pretend to be a human being. but also this doesnt matter either, i dont really feel like.,. i dont wanna get to know anyone rn just to have them leave me. everyone leaves. everyone. and they always has someone else that fills my space, while i love true and real and i cant just exchange people. idk. it just hurts so much. why cant i be so special to be kept? im always thrown away.

also that doesnt matter. i couldve done things differently but only now when im at that place in my fear curve. but that doesnt matter and it's too late. but also i said things. i said i love u, i said i wanted to work things out even if you have a lot to deal with rn, i said u're the only one i wanna date, i said you're my favorite and the most important to me. and to that i didnt receive any reciprocation. if i had kept saying more hadnt it only been harrassment? it all makes me so sad and i keep going over it and over it bc yes i couldve done things different, but i said what i wanted to say. i said im in love with you. didnt really get anything that i knew what to do with. only that maybe the time wasnt right bc there was too much going on. said i love u i love u i love u. ????? said you're the only one i wanna date - static. what was i supposed to do with that??? i felt so so so rejected over again and it made me so confused bc i thought that i wasnt the only one with those feelings (based on words actually said not my fantasy/imagination).

isnt.. i love u. i wanna be with u. you're the only one i wanna date... clear? how more clear could i have been... yes i was messy and confusing and pulled away but i tried talking about it all i wanted was to talk about it and see where we were standing and if if if if if ....

and it hurts and is humiliating to love real and love true because im here all alone all alone in this space. and me? i dont even leave a space behind. i dont even leave a void behind. that space is already filled and im fading more and more like i never was at all. why am i such an awful person for being upset that i never leave a mark? im never special or important and like omfg i love u sm i'd also do everything for u i wanna work this out i wanna see if this can go somewhere i love u i dont wanna lose u. i always tell the things i also wish someone (mutually) would say back. i dont really blame. bc i get it. but it makes me sad bc i got to hear things that made me think that my feelings were reciprocated. and then .. theres not even any talking about it. the fact is that i loved so deeply that i wanted to fight for it and do anything and everything i could to make it true. and the fact is that... i was never even asked. how do u really feel? what do u think? i wasnt so special so important to even be talked to. just ... thrown to the side. thats fine. your love doesnt matter anyway. maybe there was care. but not the love that i feel. and that just makes me so sad bc u cannot force love i know that.

the fact is. that i am here all alone, crying and missing someone... loving them so deeply... and they are talking to someone else everyday. not missing and crying and loving me with the force and intensity i do. life is cruel. esp to someone as sensitive and emotional and true and loving as me. we always get fucked over by everything and the entire universe. pain everyday. love is painful. i wish i could surgically remove it from me bc the person i wanna drown in it doesnt want it. thats sad. but thats life. no ones fault even. i dont blame. no anger. but im sad that i never even really got a chance. not a question. not a choice. no opportunity. no chance no chance no chance. just all alone forever

[eternally--mortal]

So I’ve seen a couple comments lately specifically associated with the ever-growing comment chains of @buggachat’s bakery enemies au where some fellow readers are claiming that a lot of us are hating on Marinette.

It’s not a lot of comments, but it’s enough that I wanted to say something. You don’t have to listen. That’s ok. You can scroll if you want to, but the thoughts are here if you wanted or needed them.

Here’s the thing:

When you write a realistic character, or adapt a character realistically from a tv show, there are going to be moments of pain and frustration on all sides. Yes, Marinette is allowed to feel her own pain and frustration, but We as an audience are Also allowed to have second-hand frustration based on her actions.

I’m allowed to like Marinette and acknowledge and validate her frustration while still Also Being Frustrated at her. That being said, I understand that We can see the whole story and She can’t. Even apart from that knowledge, I am allowed to have compassion for her and Still Disagree with the way that she handles things. That is not me being a Marinette salter or me hating on Marinette. That is me recognizing that this very human response of Marinette’s is placing Adrien — and herself — into unhealthy situations.

People aren’t good and bad all the time. You don’t have to love them all the time. And even if you Do still love them, you don’t have to agree with them.

I’m not trying to start a fight, but I wanted to put all of this out there because . . . I’ve read through the comments. And I haven’t really seen a great deal of people genuinely trashing Marinette. They’re just responding to the direct situation with their very-normal emotional reactions. Which is sort of part of the point, isn’t it?

And I’m sorry @buggachat . I know I tagged you. It’s mostly to give context to this post. I’m not trying to pull you into the discussion or force you to comment on it or pick a side. Please continue on with your beautiful life and enjoy torturing us every 24 hours. You’re doing great, sweetie. This post isn’t really for you unless you want it to be. I don’t know. You might not even agree with me. And that is your right as a human being.

To everyone who feels this Does apply to them, I just wanted to say, here are some general facts of life that the world continues to beat into us, whether we like it or not:

Good people can do terrible things. In fact, some of the worst things are Genuinely Awful to that degree because they were done by good people. Just look at Adrien’s situation. He’s seen how Marinette has So many friends who love her. He’s seen that she’s capable of being an absolutely wonderful person. To him it looks like she’s choosing to be a terrible person to him specifically. Real people go through this in the real world, too. When a good person does something horrible, it doesn’t change the fact that they’re still a good person to Someone out there — maybe to multiple someone’s. They’ve just chosen not to be a good person to You. Or chosen to be a Bad person to you. And that Hurts. And it’s Worth acknowledging and talking about. (This is the real tragedy of evil, in my opinion. It’s why children of abusive and negligent parents often struggle so deeply with the question of why they still feel a need to earn love from their parents and whether they should leave them behind.)

People are constantly experiencing growth and change. There’s something great called the Theory of Positive Disintegration that describes the process. It’s super cool. Look it up. It’s healthy to acknowledge that we all make varied choices as our worldviews change and as we experience new things. People we see as ‘bad’ don’t have to stay that way and likely aren’t what we expect. People we see as ‘good’ are not always strictly good. (Besides this, How many people do we call “Good” because of whom they decided to be evil to? Who gets to decide who the enemy is anyway?)

Literature is designed with complexity in mind. Stories are often made with fleshed out human beings. Sometimes stories are written Specifically to show us questionable behavior so we can see the world through a new lens and decide for ourselves whether we agree with that person. Just take a look at Restoration Drama if you have any doubts. Old white men debated for ages about whether or not their audiences were smart enough to notice questionable behavior in cases of, for instance, rape or cheating or manipulation. Did they ever ask the audience? Not really. But the point is that we Do sometimes get suckered into blindly supporting characters without really watching what they’re Doing. It doesn’t mean we’re not smart enough to notice or talk about it. The danger comes when we try to shut that conversation down by Never showing evil or Never acknowledging it when it’s there. —No one is perfect. So we have flaws. So what? That’s normal. It’s human. It’s normal to empathize with a character. It’s ok to openly express second-hand embarrassment or frustration for their actions. If you don’t want strangers on the internet to point out Marinette’s flaws, then maybe You shouldn’t be pointing out the flaws of strangers on the internet.

I’m not trying to attack anyone in particular. Or anyone at all. I just wanted to put some of this into perspective. Some of you making these comments might be joking! I can’t really read emotional subtext on the internet. Some of us are bad at reading it in real life, too. This is just me putting some thoughts out there to remind you that we all have complex emotional lives, and that discussing a person’s flaws isn’t the same thing as hating them or rejecting them or making them out to be the enemy. If no one ever talked about the bad parts of good people, we wouldn’t have compelling stories.

[rezzyromance]

Idk if this is how you request things or if it's just asking, BUT-

How would the Lords react to an S/O that's usually the chillest person that you will ever meet (not to be confused with a pushover because they are not), they've never seen them even mildly annoyed when something bad happens. But then something happens and, turns out, the S/O is utterly TERRIFYING when they're mad.

Hope this makes sense!

Aw man I'm gonna feel awful scaring Moreau and Donna :(

Alcina

You're relaxing on a beautiful morning. The sun is shining through the window just enough to warm the room but not hurt your eyes. You hadn't even changed out of your sleep wear. "How are you feeling, my dear?", a sweet voice rang from the doorway. You were sitting in your favorite chair near the window. You turn and smile at her. She walks over and rubs your face in her large hand before leaning down and giving you a soft kiss. "I'm feeling amazing. And you?", you grab her hand before she pulls it away and you place a kiss on her knuckles. "I'm feeling alright. There's a new maid here. She's a bit slow. I'm giving her until tonight to finish dusting the entire castle or else she won't see another sunrise." It was almost comedic how dark her words were as you both stared out the window and gazed at the beautiful scenery. "Come on Alcina.", you stand up and place your hands on hers, trying to hold them despite the size difference. "Give the girl a break. It's a huge castle AND it's her first day.", you knew your words would probably change nothing. Alcina was rather cruel, but you looked past it. You tried your best to make the nervous maids comfortable whenever they arrive.

"We'll see how she does." She gives you one more kiss before leaving the room. You sit back down in your chair, enjoying the warmth of the sun for a little while longer. You lose track of time, minutes maybe even hours go by. Suddenly, there's a crash not far from the door. You jump and stand up, no longer comfortable after being startled. "What in the name of Mother Miranda?!", you leave the room and look down the hallway. The new maid stood there with a terrified look on her face. In front of her was one of the paintings Alcina had on her walls, now with a broken frame and a hole punctured. Your blood began to boil. It was a painting of you, her, and the girls all together. It was your favorite. "How in the hell did you manage to do that?!", you begin to stomp towards her. She cowers and struggles to find her words. "I-I-I was just dusting! It fell and I-I didn't mean t-", you cut her off. "How the fuck did you knock such a large painting over just by dusting?! DO YOU THINK YOU'RE ALLOWED TO MAKE SUCH STUPID MISTAKES HERE?!", you unravel. "I-I didn't mean to! I'm sorry!", she almost begins to weep. "SORRY ISN'T GONNA SAVE YOUR ASS!"

"MISS DIMITRESCU PLEASE HELP!", she cries out. You freeze, realizing that the lady herself is right behind you. You turn to face her. Her eyes are wide with shock. She has never seen you like this before and never even knew you had this type of side to you. She was impressed as much as she was terrified. "(Y/N)? Are you alright my love?" She had no idea what to do as your seething slowed down. "Why don't you go back to the room, yes? Settle down a little and deal with her later.", she places a hand on your back helps walk with you back to the room. Once you're there, she bends down to whisper in your ear. "I don't know where this side of you has been this whole time, but I am so amazed by you. And also a little frightened."

Donna

The Beneviento house was usually a calm place despite its creepy aura. You and Donna are both quiet and chill people. Never once have you fought or even raised your voices at each other. It was pleasant.

You had planned a nice dinner for the both of you. You wanted to try out a new recipe and surprise her, so you made your way to the kitchen to get started. "Okay, what first? I guess I'll need a pot.", you go rummaging through the kitchen and you find the pots stacked within each other inside one of the top cabinets. You groan and stand up on your toes, grazing the pots with your fingers. It didn't take much to cause them to tumble down, crashing on top of you with a loud sound that followed. "Aw shit.", you sighed and picked up the knocked over pots. A small but annoying pain began to throb in your head from where it made contact with a pot. What you didn't notice was you forgot to pick one of the pots up. It remained unnoticed. "It's fine.", you say to yourself as you maintain your composure. Next, a cutting board and knife. You turn around and begin to walk forward to find the cutting board, but you slam your toe into counter. You wince in pain and grab your foot. "SON OF A BITCH!", you yell.

You calm yourself, still wanting to have a pleasant meal with Donna. "Alright. Everything's fine." You step forward and kick the pot that you had forgotten to pick up. It caused your freshly kicked toe to ache even more. "OH COME ON! GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!", you scream and swear as you throw your arms up in pure rage and shock.

"...(Y/N)?", a gentle voice whispered from the doorway, causing you to whip your head in that direction. It was Donna. She looked absolutely horrified and almost looked like she could cry. "Is.. is everything... are you alright?", she worried. "Yes. I'm sorry. Just got a little pissed off.", you took a deep breath to calm yourself down, feeling bad for scaring the poor girl.

Moreau

You were sitting on the dock together, looking into the water as your feet swung back and forth above it. It was a sunny day and you two decided to spend it outside. Your hand slowly made its way over to his. His feet stopped swinging for a second as you entangled your fingers. "I don't know what I'd do without you, (Y/N)." his words were bitter sweet as a gentle smile formed from his lips. "Oh, Sal. You don't have to think like that. I'll always be here for you.", you kiss his cheek and continue to relax as you sway your legs.

"There it is! There's the beast!", a voice yelled from not so far away. You both look in the direction of the voice and see a few young village boys. Possibly between the ages of 13 and 16. Moreau had become some what of a scary story for the villagers. A tale that kids spread on school court yard and bring up during dares. But, you've never seen a kid brave enough to actually make it far enough into the reservoir to actually see Moreau. Now, there were about 3. All of them stood and pointed, shocked and terrified.

"Hey beast! Come get me!", one kid teases. You glare at the kids as a newfound rage begins to boil inside you. "Let's go back inside.", Moreau says before standing up from the doc. The sadness in his voice was heartbreaking. Suddenly, one of the children gathers the guts to pick up a rock and throw it as hard as he could. His aim was off, but not by much. It slammed into the wood near Moreau's feet, startling him. "Take that you devil!", he laughs. "THAT'S IT YOU LITTLE SHIT!", you begin sprinting in the direction of the immature brats. Two of them run from the direction they came from while the one who threw the rock was frozen in fear. You took the opportunity to grab him by the collar of his shirt. "Listen here you little waste of space. I'm gonna give you 3 seconds to turn around and run for your goddamn life. If you or any of your little snot-nosed friends come around here again, they'll be goddamn fish food. Do you understand?" The kid was too scared to speak and instead began to nod rapidly. You let him go and watched as he ran as fast as he could, screaming the whole way.

You walk back to the shack and find Moreau standing in the same place he was when you took off. His mouth was agape and he looked almost as scared as the kids. "You alright Sal? I made sure those little shits won't be coming around here anymore." "Yeah... I didn't know you could be so... scary", he says. "I'm sorry. But those kids were being cruel. I had to do something.", you say. "Well... it was awesome!", he smiled. "But also very scary!" You laugh which helps sooth him a little.

Heisenberg

"Screw driver.", is all Karl said with an outstretched palm. He was working on some type of mechanical heart for his experiments. He wanted you to lend a "helping hand" even though he could easily do it all by himself. He did this because he wanted to be around you, he was just too stubborn with too big of an ego to simply say it. So here you were, handing him every little tool he asks for.

"Do you want the big one or the little one?", you say with a hint of boredom in your tone. "Aw c'mon don't sound like that! Isn't this exciting? It's like you're working on it with me! Also, hand me the big one.", you do as he says and hand him the big screw driver. "I just don't get it. You literally have powers. You can easily do this by yourself and have been for so long. Why do you need me to help?" He pauses for a second and looks over towards you, his brow slightly furrowed. "I don't NEED you to help. I just thought it would be nice for you to help out. Plus, you're the one always bitching about me constantly working. Well, here you are! Helping me work! So, either suck it up or you can leave." His harshness had no real ill will in it. He was just confused and a bit too ignorant to consider his words. But, he was testing your patience. He continued to use the screwdriver until handing it to you without saying a word.

"Hand me a screw.", he demanded with his hand facing palm up again. "Which size?" "They're all the same sizes, dumbass." You feel your blood begin to boil. "They're different fucking sizes! This one is smaller than this one!", you hold up two screws that are obviously different sizes. This makes Karl angry. Not because you were right, but because you seemed upset over something that seemed so insignificant.

"If you came here just to yap in my ear, then I don't think I need your assistance.", he huffed. You put the selection of tools and supplies he was making you hold on the table he is working on and ball your fists. "You're the one who told me to do this in the first place!", you yell. "Yeah, because you won't stop bitching! Non-stop you're always compla-" you cut him off before he can finish. "SHUT UP!", you yell. The room goes silent. "YOU SAY I'M BITCHING? HAVE YOU HEARD YOURSELF? JESUS FUCKING CHRIST KARL YOU BITCH AND MOAN ALL THE TIME! I'M DONE TAKING SHIT FROM YOU!" He wanted to be angry, but he couldn't. He felt something much more overwhelming. Was he.. intimidated? He didn't move from his seat. All he could do was look up at you with a confused expression. What now? What is there to do? If he pushes you further, what would happen? He was actually too scared to find out.

You take a deep breath to calm down before speaking. "Now, if you want me to help with your shit, I'll stay as long as you keep your mouth shut. Can you possibly manage to do that?" He gulps nervously. "Yes ma'am."

[littlewetbeast]

you know... sometimes i think i've got jackles figured out, i think i've nailed down why he's so inconsistent about destiel, why he acts so weird about it sometimes and other times not. then some information is flung at me and it's back to square one. why is that man so insane. he just genuinely confuses me.

aw man. this shit is like catnip to my overactive, over-analytical brain.

okay. listen. i’m not gonna lie: the more i try to understand the goings-on behind spn with any degree of nuance, the more my head threatens to melt. HOWEVER. while i joke about jensen ackles being an enigma, i don’t... actually think he is.

[disclaimer: the following points include speculation. i don’t know these people and will never claim to. this is just my take on it. never bring this up to the actors in question.]

the quick and dirty: i believe jensen is likely queer himself. i believe that he strongly identifies with dean, that he feeds off of the environment around him, and that how he feels he can act around destiel and dean’s sexuality depends on 1) his support network, 2) the immediate social environment, and 3) his work environment, all of which have evolved throughout the years BUT can also vary day to day. increased confidence and securer social environment has helped him decrease the need to perform and lessens the likelihood of acting out from insecurity, but doesn’t completely eliminate it. point is: the environment matters. the more insecure you are, the more it will affect your behaviour.

that’s it. not trying to excuse any shitty behaviour, just saying that’s what it is. 

the NOT so quick and dirty: so - my point is, as a queer guy in this industry, he has obviously learned to put up a front to protect himself. (even misha does this to some extent!) it’s douchey, and it’s stupid, but i understand it. think of the drastic difference of how he behaves around misha vs j*red, or even in a large group setting. i’m not saying he’s not friends with j*red, but i DO immediately see the difference of ‘front switched on’ and ‘front switched off’.

firstly - just because jensen has matured a lot over the past 15 years and is far more relaxed about himself today than he was back then, doesn’t mean he can’t still have moments of uncertainty that can occasionally push him back to his old, bad habits. basically, for someone who has grown up in a toxic heteronormative environment (being taught by his dad that drinking through straws was gay) - and in an industry that is very unfriendly to queerness and queer narratives until VERY recently (and even now is still pretty toxic) - utilizing his stupid douchey dudebro front during moments of anxiety has probably been his go-to coping method for the majority of his life. 

secondly - we all know he’s insanely close to dean as a character. dean is a part of him. he slips in and out of character effortlessly. he cares about dean and dean’s happiness. but dean was never intended to be a queer character. jensen has played queer characters before, but that’s the difference - he is ‘playing’ a queer character. he wasn’t supposed to be ‘playing’ dean as a queer character. readings of dean as queer makes, well. readings of him as queer. that’s it. for someone who puts up such a front, i can imagine he’d be shitting himself at people picking this up from him when he’s NOT in a supportive environment for it. (yes the ‘jackles acting choices’ are a Thing, but they most likely happened within more supportive environments and during times of confidence - and, let’s face it, i think sometimes jacting choices just naturally bleed in because he’s a good actor who makes good intuitive acting choices. that was likely the primary reason for it, especially early on.) 

basically - queer readings of dean are taken as queer readings of him. therefore, his reaction to destiel has also varied depending on the environment and his work circumstances. think of there being like... a constantly shifting scale of how supportive his social environment and work environment are of queer readings of the character he plays. the further back we go, the less supportive all of these factors are; the closer to the present, the more supportive these factors are.

“but rosa! why hasn’t he just shrugged and said it’s up to audience interpretation what dean’s sexuality is, like he has recently?”

because of *points to all of the above*.

let’s illustrate what i mean. 

exhibit A) it’s fairly early days of “destiel”, maybe season 6 or so. an audience member brings up dean’s reaction to dr sexy and asks why he can react like this yet destiel is not possible. jensen says dismissively because “destiel doesn’t exist” and that dean is simply a fan of the show, to an audience that cheers.

(work environment (spn): not supportive. immediate environment (audience): not supportive. social environment (j*red): less supportive*.) *I am not claiming j*red is homophobic; however, jensen HAS felt the need to perform around him aside from the last 1-2 years.

exhibit B) it’s 2019. jensen gets straddled by misha on stage and gets a [redacted] which j*red notices and covertly jokes about in front of a large audience. he visibly becomes upset and is in a vulnerable state. misha points out a ‘destiel is real’ t-shirt (the very fact that misha did this suggests he’s far more used to a jensen who is relaxed and supportive). jensen gets defensive and asks ‘where is destiel real?’

(work environment (spn): uncertain. immediate environment (audience): uncertain. social environment (j*red and misha): mixed*.) *do i think jensen would have reacted 10x better if j*red had not been there? yes. yes, i do. do i think he would he have reacted better if he hadn’t had a [redacted] that j*red made fun of? yes. yes, i do.

exhibit C) it’s 2019. jensen and j*red are in front of an audience which, given today’s times, are likely more used to queer narratives. it’s highly possible the queer storyline for cas has been confirmed at this point. jensen is calm and in control, and is not feeling the need to act up his front. someone brings up ‘samstiel’ and j*red gags. jensen, unprompted, shows support for destiel.

(work environment (spn): given the timing, likely supportive. immediate environment (audience): likely supportive. social environment: (at home) supportive, j*red: supportive or mixed.)

we know that he has progressively felt less of a need to use his ‘front’ and has become more relaxed over the years, which i believe is likely hugely due to the positive influences of danneel and misha (and maybe others). i don’t think that has been the case for ONLY the last two years. i think jensen during exhibit B was miles away from jensen in exhibit A. jensen is not miles away between exhibit B and exhibit C. those two are differences of environments where he feels confident, in control, and is supported by the narrative he’s meant to play (C), vs an environment he felt less supported and less in control of (B).  i won’t get into it in depth here, but it’s worth noting that the past ten years have also seen huge changes in fandom culture, how actors and fandom interact, and how the film industry and corporations at large handle queer narrative and fans. that certainly affects this dynamic.

and that’s it, really. jensen is a sensitive person who feeds heavily off the people and environments he’s in. he’s matured a lot over the years and i truly don’t think it’s a stretch to say that, in environments that would have supported it, he likely has been very positive about queer narratives in spn. source: his stark difference around misha, his willingness to flirt and joke about dean and cas with him, his occasional calmer and balanced reactions to destiel in more private settings.

aaand that’s how i see it, really. even if you don’t subscribe to truthing - or even jensen being queer - all of these things apply just as strongly to men who feel the need to perform. what can i say, toxic masculinity and homophobia sucks a lot and i’m glad society is shifting slowly in the right direction, and that jensen feels safer and more secure than he once did. shame the cw is unwilling to get with the times. EDIT: for some additional, vital context, i refer you to these two additional posts, which cover his upbringing, how speculations about his sexuality has hounded him his whole career, and his first intro to shipping on supernatural being j2/wincest, which included some real ugly shit.

[yn-x-animeboy]

Jungkook x y/n (as a famous artist) Pt.4

pairing: reader x Jungkook

genre: fluff, romance, for entertainment purposes

BTS x Fem Reader

synopsis: You are a popular artist in America, pretty famous, loved and well-known by the general public (actually you were one of the top 10 artists in the world but you are pretty humble and naïve to realize your popularity), one day during one of your fan meets you talk about how much you love BTS, and not only how you wish to meet them and work with them but how Jungkook is one of your celebrity crushes. During the meet you fangirled with other ARMYs in the crowd; video clips of you fangirling and talking about BTS at your meet where posted and reposted all over social media. This obviously broke the internet because you were not only a famous singer but you also were always accepted and loved by ARMY and this made a lot of people happy. Suddenly it felt like everyone wanted you to meet the seven handsome and talented idols and collaborate, but you could only wish, you believed they didn't even know who you were...or so you thought

Parts: 1 here, 2 here, 3 here 

---- 

Part 4 - Hotel? Trivago.

you started to sing and suddenly you heard a voice behind you singing with you, and you couldn’t even turn around to prove you were not mistaken, you knew that voice too well, the live audience was losing it, the crew looked excited, you went numb, you looked back and it seemed like a joke, a complete dream…..

The seven guys were coming out from behind the curtain, being led by Jungkook, he was singing the bridge of the song, mic in hand and just looking at you. Your knees gave out and you curled on your knees as you cried on your knees, ‘there is no way’, you could even begin to process what was going on, The boys were a little shy and stayed behind you as Jimmy lifted you from the floor and made you look at them. 

Once you could stand up/being held up by Jimmy, RM was the first to approach you, they all introduced themselves and after they bowed their heads out of respect and you did the same, you looked at them in awe. Then they greeted Jimmy too. Jungkook signaled you to keep singing the last part of the song and as a professional singer you did. You picked up your singing almost at the end of the song: “kkumeul geonneoseo supul neometro, seonmyeonghaejineun geu goseuro ga” holding the mic with to hands trying to hide your shaking hands Jungkook standing next to you to the left and the guys with Jimmy around the both of you; you lifted one hand from the mic and showed it to the closest people to your right which were Jimin, V and Jimmy; and just as you put it up to show how shaky it was Jungkook took your hand as he sang: “Take my hands now, You are the cause of my euphoria.” You really looked at him for the first time ever, you had never seen him in person before…. Your eyes met each other for a split second.

The guys, Jimmy, the crew, the audience, everyone cheered and squealed at this little interaction; you both blushed and dropped each other's hands. You turned back to hide your face covering your mouth as you got teary eyes. The guys near Jungkook hit him and teased him due to his ‘out of the blue’ confidence. He was normally more shy when it came to interactions with strangers, especially if it was with women. But even Jungkook seemed surprised at himself; he blushed too, but kept going. You both finished the song, harmonizing perfectly, facing each other, but avoiding his eyes, you felt so vulnerable looking at his eyes.

They all applauded once you finished and they cut to a commercial break. The guys were taken by crew members to get mic'd up, and Meg once again for the third time tonight fixed your appearance. They went back from break and sat on the couch next to Jimmy, they made a space for you in the middle of the guys, and you took a seat with trembling limbs as the ‘back from commercials’ music played and the audience cheered.

On the main couch sat RM nearest to the desk, then you to his right, Jungkook next to you and Suga on the end of the medium couch; behind you V, Jimin J-Hope and Jin sat on higher chairs all facing the front. Jimmy spoke “so I heard you introduced yourselves o y/n in english with the help of RM, but she can actually speak Korean. Y/n why don’t you introduce yourself?” They all turned to you from all angles; “Oh i'm so sorry; RM was so kind to translate when they introduced themselves, I didn't want to seem rude by interrupting him, but sure um-” you switched to korean and looked around you to the boys “Hello, my name is y/n, I am so pleased to meet you all, it's a dream come true, please take good care of me” The guys immediately made small comments at your cute Korean accent, “aww so cute” “wow you are good” “cute” even though a Korean person could probably tell Korean was was not your first language due to the accent difference, you where really good at it. 

“So I wanted to ask the guys a couple of questions too, thank you guys for coming, it's always a pleasure to have you all.” Jimmy said, after this he introduced them to the audience and gave them a proper introduction. Jimmy proceeded to catch up with the guys, asking them questions too; you helped RM translate too, which made the interview run smoother, you were making the guys laugh with your small contributions (by adding comments or opinions in Korean). During this time Jungkook and you were sitting so close to each other, you could see eachother out of the corners of your eyes, you were each other's celebrity crushes after all.

After a while you started loosening up and getting more comfortable; this was part of your personality, you were known to be a social butterfly, so even though this was a dream come true and you couldn’t stop crying like 15 mins ago; your body knew this was a once in a lifetime opportunity and that there is no time to be all shy and quiet. You got looser, bolder, and more confident, actually showing your real personality, the personality the boys knew you like from your videos and social media. (and the personality that made Jungkook so drawn to you in the first place.) Your change in personality even made the boys less stiff and more relaxed too.

After the catch up with the guys you all stood up to play another one of Jimmy’s famous show games/challenges/activities. “So now that you all are more comfortable with each other let’s play a game, this game is called ‘Guess The Jam’, Basically we will play a song and like earlier you have to dance to it; the difference this time is that the dancer will be wearing headphones and others have to guess the song they are dancing too by just judging the dance moves. 

Y/N will be dancing to BTS songs and BTS is going to dance to y/n songs, yes?” You were now standing WITH them instead of next to them/distant from them, you all seemed like you bonded. “yes” “Let’s GO!” “I got it”.

Again the game was a success you danced to multiple songs and they all guessed their title by your dancing to all of the songs that had been assigned to you; and you were so impressed at the seven grown a*s men, dancing perfectly to random songs of yours, you guessed most of them, but you got distracted at times form the hilarious scene in front of you. *J-Hope trting really hard to coordinate everyone in seconds to make the dance clear, they eventually would give up and dance their hearts out*, leaving you with no other choice but to TRY and guess what the hell they were dancing to. 

At some point the maknae line (V/Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook) made you dance with them to some of the songs (IDOL, Boy with luv, Burning up, etc) while the hyungs cheered you guys on, and also while J-Hope recorded you four like you were his children dancing at a school show. 

You all took a break after the dance segment and went to freshen up while Jimmy did another sponsorship. You changed back to your Fancy outfit and Meg AGAIN, for the millionth time tonight fixed your image, your team/crew would hype up and get all supportive since BTS arrived, telling you you were doing great, and how this was your dream come true, etc. You thanked your manager too, every time you briefly saw him during the ‘touch up moment’, then you went back to the studio couch with the boys in the same order you were sitting before.

You didn't notice but Jungkook looked at you in awe as you came out with a different outfit, the guys had been watching the whole show up to the point where they surprised you backstage, meaning he had seen the outfit before, but the view in person was different; he proved his hypothesis to be right...you truly lighted up a room the minute you walked in it. He composed himself, he was being shy and quiet while you were showing a more inviting and relaxed vibe. (Pfft he had no idea you were still shi*ting your pants hahaha).

“So  y/n and I talked about this earlier; she is going to be performing tomorrow for the Billboard awards, and I hear that you guys will also be performing. Is that true? RM was about to translate to the guys and then answer Jimmy, but you handled it and translated Jimmy’s question to the guys for him, letting him answer comfortably; sometimes he could have a hard time during interviews in english because he had to constantly translate for the guys; this little gesture meant so much to him. “Yeah, we too are going to be performing tomorrow, we are really excited and thankful for the opportunity, and we are also excited to watch the whole award show too,” RM said. They were also nominated and were going to watch the show, you got a little excited your were going to see them again tomorrow, even if you knew you probably were only going to be able to see them on stage due to how hard it was actually to ‘hang out’ with other celebrities on award shows due to the different schedules and hectic environment. Nevertheless you were trying to enjoy your little burst of confidence and take in every moment right now with the guys; you knew your friendship would probably last only for today. (a/n oHhH muahahah u thought y/n)

-------- 

The Jimmy Fallon Show was a complete success, the plan worked, your team and BTS’s team with the help of Jimmy were able to surprise you guys; the timing worked because you were both in the same place due to the billboard awards and your performances.

After the show you even hung out a little with them before you all had to go. The chemistry between you and the guys was unbelievable, it seemed like you guys had been close friends all this time. 

RM and you bonded over speaking english, even teasing others by speaking english and not translating back for them; Suga and you had bonded over producing music, you both talked about how the process is for the both of you, and he even said he would love to work with someone like you (even though he was normally a more chill, cold person to strangers, he immediately felt comfortable to show you his warmer side, that’s your charm); J-Hope and you bonded over dance, you both ‘fangirled’ about each others’ skills, you too both agreed that working with each other in the future would be so cool; Jin and you seemed like siblings I swear, he too is normally more shy when it comes to one-on-one interactions with strangers but due to your boldness, you immediately bonded by teasing each other, he would also try and make you cringe with cheesy Korean dad jokes, but you always had another cringier joke to fight back with; Let’s just say you passed Taehyung’s vibe check, he really likes your personality and you met all his expectations of you, he was not disappointed, out of all of the guys you had the quickest bond with him, he now even has a nickname for you and you too also start to call him ‘Tae Tae’ after just a couple hours of meeting; Jimin struggled a little at first to approach you, he was really fangirling over you once the cameras were cut, but you approached him and made him feel comfortable, he then immediately loosened up and bonded over your similar personalities, it was like hanging out with a literal different version of yourself, you even already had inside jokes with him too; and Jungkook…. oh Jungkook, you guys seemed to fit so well, in the little time you both hung out you were making each other cry laugh, you had small conversations about music, dance, about your cultural differences, he even said that if you ever went to Korea, he would like to show you around his favorite places, but every time you guys would chat with each other or literally by just existing next to each other, the guys would act weird and either make small comments and noises to tease you, or try and give you space in the small dressing room by standing up from the couch and dashing to the corner of the room (again imagine six grown men huddled in the corner trying to act ‘natural’ when Jungkook only handed you a bottle of water that was brought in by a crew member).

It was crazy how quick you all created this friendship, the guys had already talked amongst themselves and agreed that no matter what, they would really care for this friendship and that they would do everything in their power to keep you in their lives (Suga said that he was down to kidnap you from america and take you to South Korea in case you all became distant). 

You were currently sitting in their dressing room chatting, basically getting to know them and them getting to know you (y'all were having some deep conversations) you also learned you were staying in the same hotel and that the next day you all had rehearsals at the same time for your performances, you compared your schedules and  they seemed to match up for the most part. In conclusion you were staying at the same hotel, had rehearsals at 8:00 am in the same location the next day, and you guys wanted to hang out a little more.

Your managers came in to tell you that the cars were ready to take you to the hotel, you got a little sad you had to leave them for the ride back, but their manager said “Oh, y/n, you get to choose who you want to travel back with, we canceled your car so that you could drive back with the boys” you smiled from ear to ear and quickly introduced yourself to the bilingual man in charge of managing the guys behind you who were currently fighting over who you got to ride back to the hotel with. 

-------

Due to the fact that no one wanted to be left out riding back without you, you where currently eight adults...packed tightly into a small van on the back seats. Both of your teams/staffs watched as you all tried to get in the van, like children (screaming, pushing, laughing) they didnt know if they should find this cute/funny or drag you all into separate vans once and for all. 

“Dude I can feel your fuc*ing hair IN MY NOSE, move” Suga spoke, “Whose hand is that, ey they getting friendly” Tae said, as a joke you said “That’s my hand, my bad” making everyone laugh. “Jimin you know, you are not so light weighted, I need blood circulation” Jin commented, “Oy aren't you sitting too close to y/n kookie? If something happens I’m taking y/n’s side.” You all laughed, it was true tho, you were basically on top of Jungkook but weren't you all ‘TOO CLOSE’ to each other? I mean- 3 seats for 8 adults? It definitely defied the laws of physics but it worked out. 

The ten minute ride to the hotel was interesting; the first 5 minutes were silent, after 2 minutes you asked for the radio, but it was broken, after 2 more minutes you could faintly hear Jin’s moaning out in pain as he was being suffocated; due to the weird sounds he was making, the context and your ‘dirty minded heads’ you and JK burst out laughing, making the others infected with your laughter, this until you arrived.

Once you were at the hotel, your teams made you stand like disobedient children in a line ‘soldier style’ while they arranged the room situations. (you had stayed at a different hotel in the afternoon due to its closeness to the Jimmy fallon set and due to the fact you only used it to nap and shower, but this hotel was closer to where the billboard awards where and to where your rehearsals were so this was your temporary home for now, aslo your team had to rent a lot of rooms for the 20 or so people traveling with you. BTS had to do the same) 

While the keys were being activated one of the BTS staff members started to ask the guys for their room service orders, so the kitchen could start making them; your manager’s assistant also took your order and while you were busy choosing your dinner, the maknae line had an idea...

Once you finished ordering Tae and Jungkook interlocked their arms with yours tightly and Jimin spoke to staff: “Excuse me could you please be so kind to send all of our meals to Jin’s room, (turning to YOUR staff he again spoke in broken english) y/n would also like her dinner to be sent to Jin’s room, than you all, gudnait”, 

While Jungkook and V dragged you, Jimin bowed to the staff and followed you. Suga was cry-laughing at your cruising while being dragged away, he lifted one of your dragging legs up and RM followed him, lifting the other leg. J-hope started recording the whole ordeal. Jin was following them as he suddenly realized... “Oi why does it always have to be my room? I always end up smelling like steak '' he kept following anyway. 

Your manager speeded up and walked next to your now lifted body and told you to have fun and to go to your room early to be responsible and not stay up so late for tomorrow’s early rehearsals (cute scene: without putting you down the boys stopped and lowered you a little so that you could say good night to Sam and he could kiss your forehead, they they lifted you back up)  

You arrived at Jin's assigned hotel room and the guys comfortably all spread around the room; you walked in a little shy because you had never hung out  like this with anyone, plus you didn't know what to do…. Jin was the last one to walk in and he put his arm around you encouraging you to walk in with him, he even pushed Jimin off the bed so you could sit there and he took the desk chair while you all waited for the food. You all had dinner in Jin’s room, sitting on the floor and drinking wine (Jin and Jimin insisted on having alcohol) you were having so much fun. After dinner you all kept drinking while playing drinking games with the tiny alcohol bottles hotels provide.

It was really really REALLY past your bedtimes; just analize with me: if the Jimmy Fallon show ended at 12:00am and you  guys got to the hotel at around 12:30, you had dinner, played games, drank, etc.; imagine what time it is currently…. 

You all were at least little tipsy by now, RM spoke to everyone: “Guys-ss we should probably go back to our rooms, wE hAve to be aWake and readY to gOooooo. for tomorrow..” even though he was all sloppy and slow form the alcohol he was still following his ‘leader’ role. Everyone drunkenly cleaned up Jin's room and stood up to leave to head to your rooms. Out of everyone in here, you and Jungkook were the least drunk; not because you drank less, but apparently you both were better at handling alcohol than the others.

JK offered to walk you to your room because even if you weren't super drunk you were still a little sloppy (which he was too) and your team had rented the floor under so he didn’t want to leave you alone to find your way (you found this so cute, no one had ever treated you like this, he was a true gentleman). 

Obviously the guys teased when you both walked together in the same direction, you just kept walking, making small talk. Once the elevator arrived on your floor you thought JK would ride the elevator back, but he insisted on making sure you were safe inside your room before he left. You walked through the hall, heels in your right hand and Jungkook walking to your left. You suddenly passed by a clear door that showed outside to a terrazze (basically used for smokers, but other people could use it too) and not thinking it through you took JK’s hand and walked outside.

It was a warm night and the terrazze was pretty dark-ish and small, but the view was beautiful; the night sky contrasting the bright lights form the buildings’ skyline. You looked at the view, mesmerized by it, Jungkook could only look at you, he thought you looked too beautiful and as you tightly held on to the railing looking out wide eyed at the pretty lights. 

You turned to him and realized he was looking at you, you analyzed his face thinking: ‘waw he is the most handsome man I have ever seen’ as you looked into his eyes, even through your tipsy state you realized >OMG I'M STANDING OUT HERE WITH JUNGKOOK, THE. JUNGKOOK., FUC*K, I PROBABLY LOOK LIKE SHIT DAMMIT, WAIT THIS IS MY CELEBRITY CRUSH, WHAT DO I DO 

You seemed to be getting physically closer and closer to eachother, he was looking down at you in such an adoring way, but in his head he was also thinking…> OMG I'M STANDING OUT HERE WITH Y/N, THE. Y/N., FUC*K, I PROBABLY LOOK LIKE SHIT DAMMIT, WAIT THIS IS MY CELEBRITY CRUSH, WHAT DO I DO , but even though you were BOTH freaking out, the two of you knew this was a once in a lifetime opportunity, having someone so special to you, like this, in front of you…

You were now standing inches away from each other's faces, “hi…” you said, almost whispering as you smiled sweetly at him, looking from his eyes to his lips.

“Hi” Jungkook said in a raspy almost sleepy tone, smiling with his teeth and suddenly dropping his smile back down as he followed your eyes; he wanted to close the space between you two, but he didn't want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable or think of him differently. 

You were the first to speak, breaking eye contact and looking at his chest. “Um, could I, if it’s not too weird, um- put...my arms around you?” you immediately regretted it; what if he didnt understand your Korean, what if you translated it wrong in your head before saying it outloud what if-.... A small chuckle coming from in front of you stopped your train of thought, Jungkook put his hand under your chin and lifted your face to look at him again; he took your arms and placed them around his neck; he then put his hands on your waist, but loosened his hold and asked if you were okay with that and you nodded.

You both stared at each other’s eyes; you both fit so perfectly in each other's arms you felt so comfortable. The tension could be cut with a knife, you looked back at his lips and he did too; getting closer, you could feel his breathing on your face, you both closed your eyes and barely touched your lips together when his phone went off for the millionth time startling you, you both separated your faces and looked wide-eyed at the other, a tint of blush on your cheeks… you kissed him, he kissed you, even though it was the tiniest, shortest, lightest kiss in the history of kisses you both felt happy about it. When you realized you two had the same expression on your faces you both laughed, you had never been this comfortable with a man before, specially in such a short period of time.

His phone ket going off and off, “My phone has been ringing for so long now hahaha, since we left the elevator it has rung, but I didn't want to answer and um- you know… I don't want to answer and not be focused on you” he said as you both took a step back from each other and as he answered the 37th call after ignoring other 36 calls. 

“PFFfffft ohhhhh he answered, hi guki, um ahahaha shut the fAq uP Tae ahahahah um…. we….. can't get into our rooms'' you could hear the snickers and slow words through the phone, you and Jungkook still felt a little numb and sloppy from the alcohol, how could they be so drunk?. 

“Hyung… ugh fine, i’ll be there don’t go anywhere, nobody move, okay?” he hung up and humorously sighed, he would normally find this situation to be hilarious but the fact that he had to interrupt a once in a lifetime moment with his celebrity crush so that he could help his older brothers….dam.

You chuckled at his reaction, you picked the heels from the ground and boldly kissed him on the cheek, you walked in front of him to head inside, knowing how caring he was to his friends; but before you could go inside Jungkook stopped you by taking your hand, “I know this is an embarrassing question but if I don't do this now I may never be able to have this opportunity again…” 

You were still facing the door, your hand in his hand behind your back; frozen from anticipation of what he might say next. 

“Can I um-, *deep inhale* can I kiss you one more time before you go?” you immediately turned around (and this might be the alcohol working it’s magic but you thought ‘he is right, if this was someone else you probably wouldn't have kissed them first day after meeting meeting them, but this was Jungkook, your ‘platonic crush’ from the other side of the world, what if after this weekend you never saw each other again?’) 

Dropping your heels, and letting go of his hand you wrap your hands around his neck, pulling him in to you and kissing him; you both smiled against each other's lips form the sudden butterflies in your stomach and happiness you felt. He pulled you even closer with one hand on the side of your face and the other on your hip, then he wrapped his arms around your torso and you put your arms around his neck holding each other tighter. 

This was no ‘take me now’ R-rated kiss at all; it was a more soft, intimate, sweet kiss. You let go and hugged each other one last time on that terrazze; normally you both didn't really like the whole “corny lovey dovey” scene, so once you let go you both chuckled at your cheesy moment. You walked back inside with him to look for your hotel room, he even asked if he could hold your hand while walking down the hall, you laughed a little at him and took his hand confidently. You remembered your manager told you your room was 456B when the boys were dragging you at the entrance. You  finally arrived at the door, you turned to look at Jungkook and thanked him with a warm genuine smile; he leaned down and kissed the side of your mouth and smiled back and said goodnight with his bunny smile.  :,) 

You turned around and turned the handle to open the door, it didn't open… and something finally clicked in that drunken little head of yours…. SAM NEVER GAVE YOU THE FUC*ING ROOM KEY… you felt like panicking, it was almost 5:30 am, you had to be awake in 2.5 hours for rehearsals and you had nowhere to sleep, instead of crying you laughed, you burst out laughing; Jungkook covered your mouth and leaned over you with your back against the door; he was looking around with a quiet giggle to make sure you didn't wake anyone up.

“ahhh *small giggle* ahh um yeah I would normally just cry in these situations but I- I don’t have a key… Sam didn't give me one” Jungkook was about to come up with a plan to solve this but you knew what he was going to say:  “The front desk won’t open that room for me because it is not registered under my name, for security reasons; Two they can’t give me another room because I need my card and ID to get one and I only have my phone with me; Three, I can’t wake up sam or anyone in my team because A. it isn’t their fault and I would be disrupting their sleep, B. I will get in trouble because Sam told me to come back early, and C…. idk but I wanted to say ‘and C’ ” you said, Jungkook looked down at you and couldn’t help but laugh at you. “Hey don’t make fun of me, it’s not my fault” you poked his chest. He stopped, “No, I’m not laughing at you, the guys have a similar problem apparently what a coincidence” he answered. The both of you decided to go see the guys first before trying to figure out what to do, together, as a team of 8 drunk heads. 

When you arrived on the top floor, there they where, 5 drunk BTS members in front of you; RM was leaning over a hallway wall talking to ‘nothing’ as if he was practicing how to flirt with an invisible person; J-Hope was passed out in fetal position on the floor; Suga was cry laughing rolling on the floor while also trying to click the camera button on his phone as he wobbled back and forth clicking on everything but the camera icon; Jimin was standing still, phone still in his ear, he looked at a statue (remember Kookie said on the phone with Jimin ‘nobody move, okay?’ well Jimin hadn’t moved ever since Jungkook hung up the phone); Tae was literally in the middle of performing some sort of strip/circus/magic/dance show for Suga when they realized you two standing there they composed themselves “what… the hell? hahahahahha, what happened?” You laughed out loud and Jungkook immediately covered your mouth, he quietly giggled as he had done this exact thing minutes ago too. 

In summary, once Jin waved everyone off he went into his room, that's why he is not here; Suga struggled to find his key but eventually found it in his suit jacket and was able to go into his room, he barely spent one minute in there when RM knocked at the door and told Suga that he had no idea where is room was, the keys where not numbered, so Suga said ‘I can help you’ and went out to the hallway to help him but even Suga was confused as to how HE found his room so he told RM don’t worry, sleep in my room and tomorrow the staff can help you, when he turned around to open the door Suga realized he left the key inside. J-Hope had passed out in Jin’s room and Jin had said it was okay for him to stay in his room, but J-Hope had woken up and said good night and walked out so Jin though he was all good and on his way safely to his room...WRONG, J-hope gave up 5 steps down the hall and said ‘i need rest, here floor *thump*’ and dropped on the ground; Taehyung didn’t even know he had a room for himself, so he definitely he has no idea where his room was supposed to be; and Jimin did know where his key was and room, but it apparently was deactivated, but seeing how everyone was up here he opted to not go get it reactivated, he didn’t want to be left out.

Jungkook started losing it, cry-laughing at his friends; this time you humorously covered his mouth like he did to you, as you tried to think of a solution. BINGO, you rang Jin’s door insistently until he opened up. Once he opened the door with sleepy eyes he analized the scene behind you and your hand covering the youngest member’s mouth he sighed, allowing you all inside his room. 

All of you knew you had less than 3 hours to sleep and actually do a good job tomorrow so everyone took up a spot to rest. In the bed J-hope and Jin slept comfortably; Suga fell asleep sitting down on the desk chair; Tae slept in the bathroom’s bathtub; RM threw himself on the tiny couch for two with his arms and legs hanging out from the sides; you sat on the floor leaning against the wall, Jimin used your leg as a pillow and Jungkook sat next to you, he actually did have his hotel key with him and knew his room was literally the one next to this one, but he wanted to be where you where. You both also fell asleep sitting leaning against the wall.

-----

PART 5------> here

Thank you all for giving my fanfic a shot. I will keep doing my best to give you a good story, please interact with the post :) Xx

[only-johnny-deppp]

“Whatever I’ve gone through, I’ve gone through. But, ultimately, this particular arena of my life has been so absurd...” 

 Johnny Depp’s NEW INTERVIEW!

Last saturday, August 14, The UK Times, released a new interview with Johnny for the Sunday Times section. It was realized sometime earlier this month, in London, probably on the same day he and Andrew Levitas were recording for the Q&A for the “Minamata” release in UK. This is Johnny’s first interview since the UK trials in London last year, and released three years after Johnny’s major interview for the British GQ Magazine. Here Johnny and Andrew Levitas speaks about “Minamata”, his future as actor and a thing or two about his personal life, although he cannot talk about the court case.

For those who couldn’t read yet, here is the FULL interview:  Enjoy.

***

“I’M BEING BOYCOTTED BY HOLLYWOOD”

Johnny Depp has a new film out this week. In the opening scene his character, the real-life photographer W Eugene Smith, says, “I’m done. I’m tired. My body is older than I am. I’m always in goddam pain. I can’t trust my f***ing dick any more. Constantly in a foul mood. Even the drugs bore me.”

I ask Depp if Smith’s despair resonated with him. Depp stops. Rocks back and forth. “That’s interesting,” he replies with painful hesitation.

“I didn’t approach playing Smith in that way… Although you bring your toolbox to work and use what is available. Having experienced...” He stops again. Depp takes any questions that might refer to his calamitous libel case last year slowly, in a mumbly, croaking drawl. “A surreal five years…”

In the film Smith needs to revive his reputation. In real life Depp’s task is even more daunting. Thanks to the judgment, everyone can call him a “wife-beater”. Now he must convince a Hollywood still convulsed by #MeToo that he’s not toxic — and that any attempt to rebuild his career is a risk worth taking. This is Depp’s first interview since the case.

We are speaking over Zoom, Depp in his London home, in front of a gold-framed painting. The 58-year-old is wearing a lot of clothes. Earrings. Floppy hat. Sunglasses. Bandana. Scarf. Checked shirt over a T-shirt with an indiscernible slogan. If you saw him on the Tube*, you might think he was off to work at the London Dungeon*, to play most of the characters.

PS. For those who are not familiar with British words: * Tube = British slang for London Underground, the subway trains. * London Dungeon = is a walk-through experience that recreates scenes from London's scary history in a mixture of live actors, special effects and rides.

Depp resumes, talking in broken sentences about the new film, Minamata, in which Smith, via Life magazine, exposes the brutal mercury poisoning of Japanese villagers in the early 1970s.

“How do we do this?” he asks rhetorically, meaning how to speak about the elephant in the Zoom. “Well, there’s no way one can’t recognise the absurdity of the mathematics.” He grins. “If you know what I mean?” No. “Absurdity of media mathematics.” He talks in riddles. “Whatever I’ve gone through, I’ve gone through. But, ultimately, this particular arena of my life has been so absurd...”

He trails off again. He is holding a big brown roll-up of some sort. “What the people in Minamata dealt with? People who suffered with Covid? A lot of people lost lives. Children sick...Ill. Ultimately, in answer to your question? Yeah, you use what you’ve got. But what I’ve been through? That’s like getting scratched by a kitten. Comparatively.”

Last July, I went to the High Court in London to watch Depp on another screen — a video from the socially distanced court where the Hollywood star was losing a libel action against The Sun after it called him a “wife-beater”. It was the grottiest showbiz trial of the century. There were photos of the actor passed out in a foetal slump, socks on show. One lengthy exchange involved faeces. Another urination, inside or outside a house, after a violent night with his ex-wife Amber Heard.

This had all been going on for a while. In 2016 Heard applied for a temporary restraining order against him. The couple had long endured a narcotic, booze-filled, childish relationship, but that does not matter — 12 incidents levelled against Depp were proved, said the judge, and abuse is abuse, regardless of how badly they both behaved. Depp wanted to appeal, but the court said no. Next April in the US he has a $50 million defamation case against Heard relating to an opinion piece she wrote about being the victim of domestic abuse. It may be his last roll of the dice.

In the 1990s Depp was a sensitive heart-throb. Cooler than DiCaprio, edgier than Pitt. In this past year he has been stripped of his status and dignity. On day three of the trial Sasha Wass QC, representing The Sun, asked Depp about daubing a penis on a painting. He could not remember. “That would be quite a big thing, painting a penis on a picture?”  Wass asked. “Quite a big thing?” Depp asked.

It was a well-delivered line, but Depp was on show. Performing. Now he is more timid, less lucid. His people say he cannot talk about the court case given the looming US trial, yet it hangs over everything. The director of Minamata, Andrew Levitas, is also on our call — as a pub trivia aside, Levitas is married to the Welsh singer Katherine Jenkins.

The two men clearly get on. “With regards to journalism, it was important for us to put across in the film the power of truth,” Levitas says. Depp nods. “The responsibility of journalists to look after citizens of the world. [Our film] coincided with the moment important publications had to put Raquel Welch on a cover to get enough eyeballs to sell enough ads in order to put something meaningful inside. A result of that is clickbait — it’s destroying the purpose of journalism,” Levitas continues.

“You said it beautifully,” says Depp, one of the world’s most pinned-up men, who built a career on magazine covers. “I couldn’t say it better than that.”

Last month Levitas wrote to MGM, which bought Minamata for the US market but decided not to release it. He accused MGM of being concerned that “the personal issues of an actor in the film could reflect negatively upon them”. Then the letter got really strong. Levitas accused MGM of failing in its “moral obligation” to release the film and said it needed to explain to the victims “why you think an actor’s personal life is more important than their dead children”. He then attached Smith’s photos of ghastly deformities that shocked the world 50 years ago.

“It’s important that the movie gets seen and supported,” Levitas says. “And if I get an inkling it’s not going to be, it’s my responsibility to say so. Where it goes from there? I don’t know. But we have responsibility to these victims . . .”

You can see why he’s passionate. The film is good. MGM bought the film because it is good. Depp is good too. He disappears into the role, far from his more recent pantomime parts. It’s being released worldwide, just not in the actor’s homeland.

Depp, who also produced the film, interrupts. “We looked these people in the eyeballs and promised we would not be exploitative. That the film would be respectful. I believe that we’ve kept our end of the bargain, but those who came in later should also maintain theirs.”

“Some films touch people,” he adds. “And this affects those in Minamata and people who experience similar things. And for anything…” He pauses, as he does. “For Hollywood’s boycott of, erm, me? One man, one actor in an unpleasant and messy situation, over the last number of years?” He trails off. “But, you know, I’m moving towards where I need to go to make all that…” Again, he trails off. “To bring things to light.”

The fact, as I think Depp knows, is that for his career, the court that matters is not one of law, but public opinion. On social media, where a lot of minds are made up, Depp’s good reputation will always outweigh the bad, thanks to his frequently blinkered fans.

Outside the High Court, as Heard arrived, I saw Natasha, 30, yell: “Get hit by a truck, Amber!” She is extreme, but the persistent way his fans demand that others think their idol is a saint shows a career revival will happen. After all, most filmgoers do not follow his private life at all. To them, he is Jack Sparrow, Edward Scissorhands. To them, he is a star — and a star can take an awful lot of heat before it burns out.

“They have always been my employers,” Depp says of his fans. “They are all our employers. They buy tickets, merchandise. They made all of those studios rich, but they forgot that a long time ago. I certainly haven’t. I’m proud of these people, because of what they are trying to say, which is the truth. The truth they’re trying to get out since it doesn’t in more mainstream publications. It’s a long road that sometimes gets clunky. Sometimes just plain stupid. But they stayed on the ride with me and it’s for them I will fight. Always, to the end. Whatever it may be.”

Depp will talk like this for ever — about his “truth”. Minamata is the last film Depp has listed on the industry site IMDb, where actors usually have half a dozen in development. So, yes, fans of the actor can see Depp in a new role now — it is a return, but is it a relaunch? The film was finished in 2019, way before last year’s court case. Is that it? His last film? He thinks and looks off to his bookshelves, at biographies of Betjeman and Olivier.

“Er...no,” he says, eventually. “No. No. Actually, I look forward to the next few films I make to be my first films, in a way. Because once you’ve...Well, look. The way they wrote it in The Wizard of Oz is that when you see behind the curtain, it’s not him. When you see behind the curtain, there’s a whole lot of motherf***ers squished into one spot. All praying that you don’t look at them. And notice them.”

I would ask him to explain, but I am not sure he is an explainer. Watch this space, I guess, but he is already taking a first step back. After we speak, it is announced Depp is getting the coveted Donostia award at the San Sebastian Film Festival next month. Some people are just too famous to fail.

~ Interview by Jonathan Dean, in London, for The Times UK (released on August 14, 2021)

[multimilfs]

Zelda Spellman x Fem!Reader x Lilith: Complexities of a Witch

Summary: thewriting-dragon requested “Zelda X Reader X Lilith: Two sassy badass magical milfs and their soft gf who would kill multiple men to see her strong girlfriends just have a moment's peace because they deserve it.”

A/N: Okay nobody fillet me if certain details for s3 are off. I don’t remember them entirely so I’m going off of the little information I remembered and some youtube clips. That aside, I hope you all enjoy!! 

Tag List: @ghostsunderstoodmysoul​ @multifandomfix​ @angel7376 

Warning(s): Minor Violence

You could swear that your hair was turning grey. With each passing day, the stress piled on, until you were positive that strands of your hair were turning color. It left you stunned and confused. Zelda had almost a hundred years on you and her hair was perfectly normal. And she dealt with more stress everyday than an entire town would.

“Zelda,” You whined, coming out of the bathroom, “I’m greying.”

Looking up from her book, she scoffed at the dramatics. She marked her place with a finger. Her eyes scanned you from head to toe, narrowed in concentration.

“You most certainly are not,” She finally declared, “I don’t see a single grey hair on your head.”  

“Well, you’re missing it, Zee. All of you are stressing me to the point of madness and my hair is starting to reflect it.”

“Oh, hush. Come here.”

You trudged over to her side of the bed, perching next to her as she looked over your strands closely. Her nails lightly scratched at certain areas of your scalp during her examination. Finally, she leant away from you and shook her head.

“One grey strand, Y/N. You’re raising heaven over a single strand?” Zelda rolled her eyes.

“One strand leads to more! Before you know it, I’ll have a head of them.”

“Oh, Y/N, do be reasonable.”

“I am! How have you not gone grey? Sabrina puts you through so much.”

“Oh that’s easy, I stopped caring ages ago.” Zelda said easily, leaning back against the pillows.

You knew as well as she did that it was a lie. She loved Sabrina to a fault, constantly putting up with her antics. You all did. But it seemed she had no intention of continuing the line of conversation. So you resorted to a sure way to get answers; teasing Zelda until she gave up the truth.

“Are you sure that you’re not dyeing your hair and hiding it from us?” You asked innocently, trying to hide your mischievous grin behind a hand.

Zelda sputtered indignantly, attempting to form words, but failing to do so. You couldn’t hold back your laugh at her reaction. She frowned, recognizing your teasing and obviously not feeling very keen on it.

“What have you done to inspire such a frown?” A warm, curious voice said from behind the two of you.

Not aware of another presence in the room, you nearly fell off of the bed in surprise. You leveled a glare at Lilith as she leant against the door. Her look was far too smug for your liking.

“See?” You said, looking at Zelda, “The antics of this family will turn my hair in a week!”

“Lilith, tell her that she’s being entirely too dramatic about this.” Zelda requested.

“I’ll do no such thing,” Lilith responded, clearly enjoying herself, “Even I would struggle to maintain the natural hair color of this body if I were in her position.”

A long, hard stare was aimed at the demoness. She was completely unfazed by it, having become used to far worse looks in Hell. You just grinned triumphantly at Zelda for a few moments. It was very rare that Lilith took your side in matters like these. Zelda and Lilith tended to be of like mind, especially when it would grate on your nerves.

Rather than respond to any of the teasing, Zelda turned onto her side, facing away from the two of you with a huff. You laughed silently, shaking the bed with the effort to keep it contained.

“Aw, Zee, I’m sorry.” You tried, leaning your head on her shoulder.

“You certainly are not.”

“Oh but I am, aren’t I, Lilith?”

“Yes, very sorry.” She agreed, though without enough emotion to seem sincere.

“Go to bed, both of you.” Zelda demanded, turning over for just a moment to press a kiss to your lips and glare in Lilith’s direction, before turning the lights off with a snap.

Through the darkness, you heard Lilith scoff at the other witch’s behavior. Though part of you expected her to stay awake in protest, the bed soon dipped with her weight. Her arms wrapped around you and you allowed yourself to fall asleep just like that.

----

When you woke up, there was a dreadful absence on both of your sides. Though the blankets were piled on top of you, the chill in the air wormed its way past them. You shook without either of your lovers to keep you warm.

Reaching out blindly, you searched for them with closed eyes. Lilith often took to reading before you woke, perching herself on the bench at the foot of the bed. If stretched fully then you could typically poke her in the back. Nothing met your reach.

You grumbled miserably. If neither witch was in the room, it meant they’d already convened for breakfast. Likely, you had slept longer than intended, and would be sure to hear about it.

Dreading the inevitable teasings and musings of Zelda, you trudged from bed and down the stairs. But no noise followed your descent from the last step. There was no light chatter or laughter from the kitchen. The comforting babbling of the pots and shrieking of the kettle, nowhere to be found.

“Hilda? Zelda, Lilith?” You called, walking into the kitchen.

The area that was so typically warm and busy, was now completely empty. Cold light seeped in through the drawn curtains. A chill went down your spin as you spun around, looking in every part of the room for someone of the Spellman family.

“Sabrina… Ambrose?” You tried helplessly.

No luck.

Timidly, you stepped further into the room. Your eyebrows furrowed as you took in the cobwebs clinging to the chandelier; cobwebs you were positive hadn’t been there previously. Tracing over the table led to a collection of dust on the end of your finger. Everything felt hopelessly, terribly confusing.

A sudden crash to your right put you on high alert, throwing your hands up just in time. But it wasn’t a wild animal or enemy looking back at you, frozen in space. It was Ambrose.

“Ambrose!” You exclaimed, dropping your magical hold to throw your arms around him, “I am so glad to see you.”

“As am I, Auntie, but we can’t stay here. It’s not safe.”

You reeled away from him, confused at his words. What could be safer than your own home? The one you’d all been part of for so long? Zelda had to be around somewhere, she’d never abandon the mortuary. It wasn’t her style.

“Ambrose, you’re talking nonsense. Now where are Zelda and Lilith? I’m sure we can handle whatever Sabrina has cooked up as a family.”

“You don’t understand,” Ambrose said in a severe whisper, “Nowhere is safe. Not even Hell.”

His tone sent a shiver down your spine. It wasn’t hard to throw off the balance of this plane, but it was unheard of for the infernal plane to be affected. And if Hell was dangerous then that meant…

“Where is everyone, Ambrose?” You whispered, fearing the answer, “Where is Zelda? Lilith? Your Aunt Hilda would never let the house become so tattered… are they…”

“You really don’t know what’s going on?” He asked.

“If I knew what was going on I wouldn’t be asking you.”

“They all… I mean, well... The pagans brought the reckoning and very few survived.”

“No,” You shook your head, backing away, “They can’t be gone. Not like this.”

“I’m sorry, Auntie.”

He placed a hand on your arm, squeezing gently. You felt like his words had gutted you and left you hollow. Despite the fine layers of dust and cobwebs, the memories of the house still felt alive around you.

The smell of Zelda’s cigarette smoke lingered on everything. You could practically see her there, newspaper in hand, smoke billowing from behind it. Lilith’s voice rang in your ears, heckling Zelda about something miniscule. It was always like that. Warm, teasing, and comfortable. You would hide a laugh, but Zelda knew you too well.

Your family lingered in every corner.

Another squeeze on your arm brought you back to the present, looking directly at Ambrose. His eyes were full of the sadness that you felt. But his held more reserve, more… acceptance. This was new to you, though it wasn’t to him.

You refused to let yourself cry. Neither Zelda or Lilith would have wanted it, they cared for action. In your heart you knew that all you could do was work with the tools you had. Magic, heart, and Ambrose.

“Alright, now fill me in on these Pagans.” You said.

And fill you in he did. Though nothing could explain how the time had moved without you, how you ended up in the middle without even knowing it. Fortunately, just as the two of you hit a dead end, Sabrina appeared out of nowhere.

The details were fuzzy and you were running on a lot of hope, but you had faith in Sabrina. If not, at least she had her misplaced confidence. You’d go out fighting.

Sabrina was to shift things around in time, to bring back your loved ones. You stood by Zelda’s skeleton in the Mortuary’s basement, hoping that any second she’d become real, as Sabrina united the past, present, and future once more.

You felt the change, but nothing happened next to you. The hope in your heart was slowly waning. It was hard to hold back the emotions, but it seemed not to matter at all, as a rustling next to you became apparent.

Sitting up on the table was Zelda, looking confused and extremely annoyed. Ambrose explained that she’d been shot at the front door. You wanted to make the person pay, but right now you were entirely too happy to see Zelda to care.

“Zelda,” You breathed out, making her look to you, before wrapping your arms around her, “You’re okay.”

“Of course I am. I couldn’t leave you to deal with Sabrina alone, now could I?” She asked.

Her voice was hauty, but you knew she was joking by the sweet tone in her voice. The gentleness you heard only in special moments.

“Speaking of Sabrina, we’re meeting her near the Cain pit. You missed a lot while you were… sleeping.”

You could see that she detested waiting for any answers, but grudgingly let you pull her out to the Cain pit, where a large group of witches were waiting. It was then that she realized why she hadn’t been buried in it. Hilda was still laying in it and had been for far too long.

Her grip tightened on your hand and you squeezed back. You’d spent the last day mourning your entire family, but Hilda had been with Zelda since they were children. The pain there was likely unimaginable.

But you all joined hands, amplifying Zelda’s wishes. Her screams to the sky, calling on Hecate. The pain in her voice rang through you like a shot. If you weren’t present, forming a circle with your sister witches, you could’ve sworn you had been shot. The pain certainly felt similar.

Waiting with bated breath, Zelda called out after her chanting. One hand placed on the dirt of the Cain pit.

“Hildy?” She said brokenly.

Then, to everyone’s relief, a hand broke through the dirt. Zelda grabbed it eagerly. You could feel the tension leave everyone’s body. It made you especially grateful to release their hands.

You watched joyfully as Hilda clawed her way out of the dirt, crouching to help her. The dirt caked under your nails didn’t bother you like it normally would. It was a small price to pay.

After that, the plan was laid out. By Sabrina, no less. All of the witches were in agreement on how the Pagans would be dealt with. With swift, painful justice. It would be far too dangerous to let them live any longer. They would just work their way back into this same situation. The plan would take place as they sacrificed the virgin of their choosing to the Green Man.

There was enough time for everyone to disband and prepare, or rest, in your case. But you couldn’t bear to rest now. You had your entire family back, minus one key person. Lilith. Little was known about what had happened in Hell, or maybe Ambrose wouldn’t tell you much.

You just knew that your heart was aching, longing for the other woman you so deeply loved. A fire, long put out, was burning in your gut. It threatened to overwhelm you. Instead, you vowed to save it for the Pagans.

You would get your life back, no matter what it took.

----

The plan had worked perfectly. Sabrina had gone disguised as Robin, Pesta disguised as Ms. Wardwell. Now the Pagans were fleeing. But the big three, the so called ‘Gods’, were frantically packing their things.

Hilda went after Circe, Harvey and Roz went after the gorgon, and that left Pan to you. While the rest of your coven chased the younger Pagans, you elected to confront Pan head-on. Alone. While he loaded his truck, out in the open, you walked up. You did your best to keep your anger at bay when he set his eyes on you.

“What can I do for you, witch?” He snarled.

“You’ve taken something very important from me. I want it back.” You said casually.

The laugh that left his mouth was cold, empty of any humor whatsoever. You wanted to scream, to rip him limb from limb over what he’d done to your family. Your coven. The pain all of them had endured because of them.

“Not likely. I don’t offer kindness to the whores of Satan.”

“You don’t offer kindness to anyone, false God.” You hissed.

His hackles raised then, offended beyond what words could say. Stepping away from his vehicle, he sneered at you, disdain clear in his eyes. Stretching his arms out to either side revealed his true nature beneath the illusion. The true Pan.

“Your Satan is the false God, but I am real, for I am the great God Pan. And my gaze is madness incarnate…” He proclaimed in a haughty tone.

Your clapping stunned him. It was slow and deliberate, fake and insulting. You held no fear as you walked right up to him and stared directly into his eyes.

“I’ve consumed madness before,” You said, a twisted smile spreading on your lips as he stepped back, “And I kept returning for more.”

With a snap of your fingers, the shimmer illusion around him dropped. The one barrier between you and his true form. Your eyes never dropped from his. He attempted to step away from you, but you wouldn’t have it. Then you swung your arm viciously.

“This is for Zelda,” You whispered after burying a blade in his chest, before pulling it out and burying it in his neck, “And that is for Lilith.”

He crumpled to the ground in front of you. As you stood over him, you stared at the wounds you made. Part of you wished that you’d taken more time to make him suffer. But what’s done is done, you can't turn back time.

“Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

Turning, your eyes landed on Lilith and Zelda. It was Lilith who’d spoken, leaning against a tree, her smirk visible even from where you were standing. Your heart jumped in your chest at seeing her alive and well.

“You’re… You’re back.” You said happily, tears in your eyes.

“Of course I am. Now, are you going to give me a proper welcome or not?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

You wasted no time in moving to her and throwing yourself into her arms. At first, you did your best to be mindful of where your hands were. Pan’s blood was all over them and you didn’t want to stain her dress, but she didn’t seem to mind as she took your hands into her’s.

She pulled you into a searing kiss. All your thoughts of revenge faded into nothingness as your lips met hers. Personally, you’d never felt Hellfire, but you would bet that it had nothing on her kiss.

Zelda scoffed from beside the two of you. Without looking at her, you knew without a doubt that her eyes were rolling. It was her trademark at this point.

With no small amount of effort, you pulled away from Lilith’s kiss, extending a hand to Zelda. Letting her annoyance wane for a moment, she took it and kissed you just as aggressively as Lilith had. Though where Zelda had rolled her eyes, Lilith was now watching with dark eyes.

It would have been easy to let the touches descend into something sinfully fun, but that wasn’t what you felt. You were so relieved to have your lovers back safe. Overwhelmingly, you felt nothing but your intense love in this moment.

“Let’s go home.” You whispered after pulling away, happily dragging both witches back to your safe haven.

----

“Look at this,” You urged Zelda over to your side, pointing to your hair, “Right here.”

“You’re calmer about this one, I see.” She said.

“I think I… appreciate them now, more than I hate them.”

“Is that so?”

“I wouldn’t have them if I didn’t care. So I consider it good that I care so much about my family, even if it gives me grey hair.” You admitted, avoiding her eyes as your cheeks burned red.

Zelda was quiet for a few moments and you wondered if you left her speechless for once. But rather than say anything, she placed a sweet kiss upon your lips. Her thumb rubbed over your cheekbone affectionately.

“Having so much love is a remarkable gift.” Zelda murmured, punctuating the statement with another kiss.

You leaned into the rare moment of open, sappy affection. It was nice to spend time like this, reveling in the love of your family. To know how loved you were.

“I walked into a sap fest, I see,” Lilith’s voice came from the doorway, “Hard to believe I’m looking at the same witch who slaughtered a God two days ago.”

She was nursing a glass in her hand, taking a sip as her humorous eyes glanced over the rim. You gave a small laugh. Though she'll tease you endlessly about your ways, she did envy how open you could be with all of it. Love, care, honesty. It’d been completely foreign to her for so long.

“What can I say, sweetheart? I’m just complex like that.”

[babygirl-diaz]

What a Wonderful World

Prompt by @east-coast-walrider: Bucky catching Sam singing a lullaby to their baby? and the peacefulness of it making Bucky think about his past and being amazed at how far his life has come from hiding out in a dingy apartment halfway around the world to having his own family again? 🥺

(Okay, this prompt has me feeling all gooey inside. I couldn’t wait to get to it 🥺️)

***

Bucky hears humming as he finishes up doing the dishes in the kitchen. He follows the sound to Riley’s nursery where he finds Sam pacing the floor with their 6-month-old on his shoulder while humming What a Wonderful World. It’s one of the few songs from the 1960s that Bucky actually likes. Soon Sam abandons the humming and starts to softly sing the song.

The colors of the rainbow

So pretty in the sky

Are also on the faces

Of people going by

I see friends shaking hands

Saying, “How do you do?”

They’re really saying

”I love you”

Bucky just stands there and watches in awe as his husband sings. It’s so soft and melodic that Bucky loses himself in that beautiful sound. He leans his head against the doorjamb and just thinks about how far his life has come. Eight years ago, he was on the run, living in a dingy apartment, constantly under the fear of being caught. Each day was more unpredictable than the one before. He couldn’t even imagine having a family of his own. Hell, he couldn’t even imagine being alive 8 years in the future. Yet here he was. He now had a gorgeous husband and a beautiful little baby girl, and his life couldn’t be more perfect.

He would not lie. Some days, like today, it terrified him he was going to wake up in that cold, dingy apartment instead of his warm and cozy home, and this would have all been a dream. He couldn’t imagine what he’d do if he lost Sam and Riley.

“You okay?” Sam’s voice brings Bucky out of his head.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Bucky lies and smiles at his husband, which he hopes reaches his eyes.

Sam walks over to him, Riley still in his arms. He balances her in one arm while reaching out to touch Bucky’s face with the other hand. “You don’t look okay. What’s going on, baby?”

“I’m scared,” Bucky admits. Sam is the only person in the entire world who he can be vulnerable with.

Sam steps even closer and the warmth of his body plus the soft breathing of their daughter provides Bucky with some sort of comfort.

“Scared of what?” Sam asks.

“Scared that I am gonna wake up any moment now and all of this will have been a dream.”

“I know nothing I say can ever take away that fear, but I still wanna say that this is real. Your family is real and we’re not going anywhere.”

“But how do I know that this is real?” Bucky asks desperately.

Sam sighs and takes Bucky’s hand, bringing it to his chest and resting it over his heart. “Do you feel that?”

Bucky gulps, “Yes.”

“Good, because that’s real too and as cheesy as this sounds, it beats for you and for Riley.”

A small smile twitches on the edges of Bucky’s lips at that. “It sounds a little cheesy. But thanks.” He brings Sam’s face closer and kisses him. It’s a gentle, chaste kiss and after pulling apart, Bucky kisses the top of their daughter’s head, who is fast asleep on Sam’s shoulder.

Sam puts Riley down in her crib and Bucky wraps his arms around Sam from behind as the two of them watch their sleeping daughter. She looks so peaceful, and Bucky wishes he could sleep as peacefully as she.

Bucky kisses along Sam’s shoulder and Sam tilts his head to the side to give him better access.

Bucky moves his hands inside Sam’s shirt and Sam gasps at the coolness of his metal arm. “Sorry,” Bucky whispers in his ear.

“I’ll never get used to that,” Sam replies. “How are you feeling now?”

“Warm and in love,” Bucky replies, kissing Sam’s neck. “God, I love you so much, Sam. I’ll destroy the entire world if I ever lost you or Riley.”

“And like I said, baby, you’re not gonna lose us. We’re right here and we ain’t going nowhere.”

“Can we take this back to our room? I need to touch you, feel you, and remind myself that I am not dreaming.”

“Okay.” Sam lets out a shuddered breath. He moves away from Bucky to lean down and press a kiss to Riley’s forehead, and Bucky follows his lead and does the same.

“Night, princess,” he whispers to her before taking Sam’s hand and leading him back to their own room.

And that night, as he makes love to Sam, if his touches are rough and needy and his kisses are desperate, Sam says nothing.

[mrkcore]

𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 - 𝐧.𝐣𝐦

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: na jaemin x f!reader

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: jaemin as DC’s nightwing/dick greyson, hero!jaemin

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you’re the one picking him up, piece by piece, even when you’re gone.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, fluff

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): profanity, character deaths, blood, gun use

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.3k (woopwoop!)

𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨: ghost of you - 5sos, lie to me - 5sos, woke up in japan - 5sos, want you back - 5sos, more - 5sos, better man - 5sos, moving along - 5sos, thin white lies - 5sos, red desert - 5sos, lonely heart - 5sos, high - 5sos (just me being 5 seconds of summer trash)

𝐚/𝐧: part of @nct-writers​ collab, the heartbreak hotel (this is probably the longest fic i’m ever going to write, so pls gimmie feedback i will love you forever)

“imagine you're watching a runaway trolley barreling down the tracks straight towards five workers who you do not know and can't escape. you happen to be standing next to a switch that will divert the trolley onto a second track. here's the problem. that track has a worker on it, too, just one, but they’re not a stranger. what do you do? do you sacrifice that one person to save five?”

jaemin regrets being the hero in the story. 

jaemin regrets everything.

he constantly ponders the situation playing out where he wasn’t the protagonist. people have always said, “a hero would sacrifice you to save the planet, but a villain would sacrifice the planet to save you”. jaemin always thought that was bullshit, but now he knows the despairing truth. 

he regrets, he regrets, he regrets. but regret won’t bring you back.

you seemed so sure when you told him to let you go and it’d be okay, it wasn’t his fault. how was it so easy for you to think and say that? not his fault? he was basically the reason you’re dead. he just found you after so many years, now you’re gone again; but this time, it’s for real, forever.

jaemin remembers the cold tiny room he was forced to sleep in with the other children in the circus. 

it was a nightmare every single day. with kids screaming, singing, laughing, and running around the room, nobody could get any sleep. what made it worse was that jaemin had no one to talk to. 

none of the other boys liked him, being handsome, dubbed the “face of haly’s circus”, always talking behind your back how the boss always favoured him because he was bringing so many more views in. girls swarming around jaemin ever since him and his parents ever joined, it was so obvious that he was the most popular. jaemin never liked the attention, he was only trying to survive after all.

then, you arrived. 

y/n, the confounding witch, they called you. 

conjuring up little tricks for audience members, brewing up drinks to transform participants into different species of animals, and controlling birds in cages were only a few acts you could do.

the first day boss introduced you to everyone, you seemed so bright and excited to be joining. your unique eye smile, bubbly personality, and caring nature drew jaemin to you. he’s seldomly trying to calm the younger kids down so everyone can rest, but your patience and compassion towards the kids were something they weren’t used to, and eventually caved in.

soon, it became quieter in that god awful room jaemin always dreaded. but jaemin's heart beat louder in his chest than ever.

jaemin was never one to show off. like we established before, the attention jaemin got was not appreciated by him. except, it became different when you arrived.

he was constantly trying to impress you, sway you, hoping the things he did for the crowds of girls that rushed to buy tickets to see him, would work for you too.

however, that was just his wishful thinking.

you were unlike any of the interactions jaemin had with the opposite gender. you were confident, yet humble, witty, intelligent, and easy-going. he is constantly flustered whenever he is engaging in a conversation with you, but tries to act nonchalant whenever he knows you’re nearby.

after shows, girls screamed and bolted towards the entrance where jaemin stood for exit duty, to say goodbye to patrons. he’d always try to be paired with you for it, trying to make you jealous. 

but of course that never happened. jaemin would always be trampled by his enthusiastic female supporters, as surges of them stopped to interact with him. flirting with them all at the same time, they all swooned over your charms. he’d always see you giggle, laughing at his bursts of confidence he’d never have with you by yourselves. 

this continued for a year, until one day, you let something slip.

“ladies, ladies, i’m so glad you could join us for today.” jaemin smiled at the groups in front of him, glancing at you walking an elderly couple out of the tent. “make sure to take good care of yourselves, wouldn’t want anything happening to any of you sweet gals.” and cue the squeals. 

“hope you had fun pretty boy.” you directed to him calmly, as you walked back into the circus. jaemin’s head snapped to stare at your back. he’s stunned, did you just call him a “pretty boy”? 

remembering that the crowd in front of him was still there, he reacted quickly.

“i guess it’s time for me to go, i’ll catch you lovely girls at my next show, i hope.” he leaves with a wink, following your path straight towards you. 

finding you in your little assigned room, jaemin barged in, gaze fixated right on you, not even thinking what to say.

“oh, jaemin, hey.” you say, not even batting an eye, you’re focused on the book in your hands. “what’s up?”

“you called me pretty boy.” he breathed out. 

“yeah i did,” you’re still not paying attention to him. “what about it?”

“you think i’m pretty?” jaemin is suddenly very close to you, his hand caressing your face, lifting your line of sight up to meet his gaze. 

his eyes are sparkling, cheeks a slight tint of pink, with a look of determination. of course you thought he was pretty, anyone who said otherwise would either be lying, or have never seen his gorgeous face.

jaemin must’ve been acting impulsively, because when he realized how close he was to your face, he immediately pulled back.

“i am so sorry,” he says in disbelief. “i don’t know what came over me.”

“it’s okay,” you smile at him, grabbing his hand to where it was before. “i liked it.”

jaemin is flustered again, standing completely frozen as he admires your face up close. 

you’re breathtakingly beautiful. he’s known that you were attractive, but this just created even more butterflies in his stomach. 

“and yes, i do think you’re pretty.” you wink at him.

and that’s where it started.

you and jaemin started spending time together more.

jaemin was still a bit nervous and frenzied at the beginning, but that melted away, and his flirty, outgoing, and annoyingly confident side was revealed to you.

you were also quite popular amongst the other boys in the circus, so when you two were seen more frequently together, they started spreading rumours about jaemin to get you two away from each other.

“oh jaemin’s just trying to use them.”

“jaemin thinks after getting with them, he’s going to cross all of the names off his list.”

“he’s such a player, y’n’s too good for him.”

of course you’d hear them more often than him, the guys would always say these kinds of things around you.

but you know they’re just trying to stir up trouble. so you ignore them. 

just like how jaemin ignores the talk about you amongst his female supporters.

“she’s trying to take him away from us.”

“he’s not as happy anymore.”

“she thinks she’s all that, he’s probably just a new notch in her belt.”

of course jaemin would never listen to them. they’d never know about the secrets you had together, sneaking out of your rooms and sitting on the roof at night stargazing, your note exchanging, late night talks; they knew none of that. 

“i wish things weren’t like this,” you sighed, leaning on his shoulder as you two look at the early sunrise. “i wish we could be free and do whatever we want. this is so unfair.”

jaemin has never really thought about that. every day, his head was flooded with you. but now he thinks about it, it truly was unfair.

jaemin wishes he could take you on on real dates, take you on meaningful trips to explore the rest of the world. not hidden in this awful place where you could barely talk to each other in public. jaemin wishes he could give you more.

“it’s not your fault nana,” you look up at him like you’ve read his mind and know he’s overthinking. “there’s nothing you can do.”

“yeah,” jaemin exhales. “i know.” he tries to smile when you reach up to caress his face, you look at him with so much fondness, jaemin’s worries are almost all blown away. but you know he’s going to be pondering about this for the next week.

“maybe this just how it’s meant to be, our wicked fate.”

but all the gossip got to the point where the boss heard about it, and asked you guys to talk in his office.

“i think we should end it here.” you say one night on the roof, seemingly out of the blue.

“what?” jaemin is speechless, where did that come from? did he hear you wrong?

“he literally asked us to talk,” you’re facing the ground, not even daring to look at him. “it’s serious this time.”

“so you’re going to just throw all of this away?” jaemin asks, slightly furious. “just because of what a bunch of losers are saying?”

“it’s for the best,” you’re still not looking at him. “for the both of us.”

when you finally do look up to see jaemin’s reaction, you see tears in his eyes and you wish you hadn’t looked up.

“fine, if that’s what you want.” jaemin turns around and walks away, breaking that silence.

but what jaemin didn’t know was that it broke your heart to pieces. it took you so much courage to break it off with him, but in the end, you knew what boss haly was capable of. you needed to protect him, so if this is how it needed to go, it’s for the best.

the meeting the next day went smoothly, it was easy for both of you to deny everything since jaemin was giving you the cold shoulder. you didn’t need to pretend. it was for the sake of the both of you.

after the meeting, you didn’t get the chance to talk to jaemin as he rushed to get ready for his special act today. but it’s not like he would listen to you anyways, you couldn’t blame him.

you felt the aura of the circus today, it felt off. very off. 

maybe it was because you were so shaken by you and jaemin's fight. maybe it was nothing, and you were just overreacting. everything was probably fine.

except it wasn’t.  

as all of the spectators settled into their seats, when you tried to peak through the curtain to see the turnout, and as expected, it was packed.

but something catches your eye. a black raven flies in, the ambience in the tent suddenly changes so fast if gives you whiplash. this isn’t good. this isn’t good at all. something bad is going to happen, really bad. 

you’ve never seen that bird in your entire life, and it suddenly hits you.

someone is going to die tonight.

you pray and pray it’s going to be fine, but the unsettling energy gets to you. you need to tell someone.

“jaemin, jaemin!” you call out to him. he turns around, but when he sees you, his face turns sour. your heart sinks, but what you’re about to tell him is more important, so you brush it away.

“what do you want.” he snarls, you gulp back a sob. 

“something bad’s going to happen, i can feel it.” tears are threatening to spill out of you eyes. “someone’s going to die, and i don’t know what to do.”

“oh, so now you care?” jaemin rolls his eyes. “are you jealous that it’s my show tonight and all of those girls front row are here to see me and think they have a chance with me?” you’re shocked by his words, your eyes are wide. you never thought he was capable of saying something like that. “you’re just a little witch, and it’s all just an act. let it go.” tears stream down your face as jaemin huffs and walks away, strutting into the crowd as the ringmaster announces their act: “the flying greysons!”.

and jaemin was wrong. you were right. something awful happened that day.

jaemin watches helplessly as his parents’ high wires snaps and they pummel to their death. 

you were right. and he couldn’t do anything about it.

jaemin runs away that night as he leaves you in that horrible place by yourself, and you never see him again.

and here jaemin is. 10 years after the incident, a college student by day, leader of a crime fighting superhero team by night.

after the incident of his parents’ death, mr. jung jaehyun finds him on his path. crying, sobbing, and vulnerable. jaehyun takes jaemin in under his wing. providing him shelter, food, and as much support as he could. jaemin slowly realized jaehyun’s second identity: batman. 

jaemin has heard of jaehyun’s street name. but he’d never thought that he’d meet him in real life, and batman would be someone so similar to him. jaehyun saw a reflection of his younger self, the grief of losing your parents, the reality check of the world being a cruel place at a young age, he didn’t want jaemin to spiral in the same way he did. 

so even though jaemin lived a life of normalcy, his past never stopped coming back to haunt him. 

especially you.

jaehyun dug up some information about the circus, and piles and piles of their dark secrets were revealed. so did the truth of jaemin’s parents’ deaths too. how a well-known and feared crime-lord, threatened the circus unless the owner paid extortion money. boss haly refused, and that night someone messed with the equipment for the performance, resulting in the catastrophe. 

you were right all along, and jaemin didn’t listen to you. it was his fault, everything was his fault.

he even left you there by yourself, all alone, and he never got to say goodbye. oh how wishes he could see you one last time, and say all those things he wanted to these years. 

nightmares woke him throughout elementary school, middle school, high school, and even sometimes during his college time.

the same dream over and over, you reaching your hand out for jaemin to grab and save, but he’s too far away. and you fade away. 

inspired by what jaehyun did to help him, jaemin started to do the same. 

with a bunch of lost and uncared for young kids in new york, jaemin took them under his wing like jaehyun did with him.

with help from trusted individuals he met on the street, mark, renjun, jeno, and haechan, they started to take care of chenle and jisung full time. getting them off the street, given proper shelter, food, water, clean clothes, and access to education, this was the start of the dreamies. 

today was the same as any other.

jaemin’s philosophy and law studies class has just finished up and he’s walking to his favourite cafe to finish up some work.

“jaemin?” he hears a familiar voice behind him. 

he turns around and sees you. you haven’t changed a bit, still as homely and comforting as he can remember.

is he in a dream right now? how is this possible? 

“oh gosh, it really is you.” you laughed, the same laugh you had. jaemin feels this unknown warmth and reassurance with you here, like a weight has just been lifted off his shoulders.

“y/n.” he finally speaks. your eyes glimmer, looking at him affectionately.

“yep, right here in the flesh.” jaemin starts tearing up. “oh you big baby, why are you crying?”

jaemin pulls you in as he hugs your waist.

surprised by his emotional state, you were going to speak up again. but you choose not to. standing there, a bit awkwardly, stroking his soft hair, embracing him.

and you’re back. 

jaemin learns that you recently moved to new york city recently for your journalist job position, and you’re looking for a place to move in to.

he’s quick to offer his place, even though he’s still in college, his apartment is big enough for two people.

“are you sure?” you’re hesitant to accept his suggestion. “i don't want to be a big burden. you’re probably really busy as a student.”

“no, i’m fine.” he responds, enthusiastically. “my schedule is pretty much free since i’m third year now.”

and you accept. saying you’re only going to crash for a while until you found another place.

cherishing the time you had together, during the day, jaemin went to his lectures while you went to work, but when you got home, you did everything together. to the point where jaemin barely saw the dreamies, his crime-fighting crew.

staying up to watch the stars and sunrise, talking and laughing until your eyes were threatening to close. conversing about literally anything. 

but as time went by, you noticed that jaemin didn’t really want to talk about what happened back at the circus. you understood since he lost his parents that night, but he never asked you about how you left and ended up in new york. but you don’t push it, you understand that it’s a rough patch in both of you guys’ lives. 

“do you have anything that you regret?” you ask one night, you truly were just curious.

“not listening to you that night.” he says, monotone. “and leaving you by yourself at the circus when i ran away.”

“jaemin…” you start, but no words leave your mouth.

“fuck!” jaemin abruptly exclaims, mood crashing, turning furious. “it’s all that bastard haly’s fault.”

you shouldn’t have asked.

“if he didn’t make that fucking circus, everything would have been fine! it’s his fault, all his fault, i’m going to get revenge and kill that son-of-a-bitch one day!” he’s yelling now. “we could have met in normal circumstances, we could’ve gotten married, created a family, enjoyed life like all of these snarky city folk. why?”

you wipe the tears that are rolling down his face as he turns to cry in your chest. 

“i’m sorry i brought this up.” you pat his head as his sobs turn into soft snores, head in your lap. “maybe this just how it’s meant to be, our cruel fate.” 

it’s been a year now. it doesn’t seem like you’re moving out anytime soon, but jaemin’s not complaining. he loves having you here, you’ve become a standard part of his day. 

with jaemin more adapted to your appearance, he has started to become more involved with the dreamies.

helping 10-15 kids each month, the squad has advanced to milestones jaemin never thought it’d be at. he is so thankful to have the group and you there supporting him.

you’ve even discussed marriage. 

“y/n na has a nice ring to it, y’know.” jaemin beams.

“you’re such a softie.” you giggle out, but jaemin knows you like it. 

jaemin knows you want to wait until you have a stable job and when he graduates, but the thought always makes him elated. 

“what song would you play for our first dance at out wedding?” he asked one morning, waking up to the sun shining heavenly on you.

“hmm,” you grin. “best part, daniel caesar, h.e.r.”

“you’re perfect.” jaemin kisses your face as you cuddle into his warm chest.

imagining you in a white dress, walking up to the alter on your wedding day, saying your vows, slow dancing. you’re the only person jaemin has visioned a future with, and the only person jaemin wants a future with. 

the next day, you agree to slow dance with him in the living room.

jaemin is on cloud nine.

but like the old saying, all good things must come to an end. 

it’s been 5 years now.

jaemin comes home one night to the apartment door open, which is really unusual.

jaemin thinks it might be a robbery, but nothing is stolen, the apartment looked the same as it was when he left this morning.

but you’re nowhere to be found. jaemin isn’t panicked, maybe you went on a walk and forgot to close the door–

there’s a note on the dining room table.

“meet me on the top of the empire state building to see y/n, if you bring someone else, it’ll be for the last time.”

what is that supposed to mean?

was it one of the dreamies’ past enemies trying to get back at them? 

nonetheless, jaemin is bolting out the door.

when he gets there, he sees the dreamies tied up, sitting and struggling at the feet of someone jaemin never thought he’d see ever again. c.c. haly, the owner of haly’s circus jaemin escaped a whole decade ago.

haly smirks as he sees jaemin approaching, but jaemin is scowling. 

“what are you doing here?” jaemin snaps out, carefully advancing.

“i’m here to finish what you started.” haly says.

“how did you even find me?” jaemin snarls, stopping a fair distance between him and haly. “how did you find my friends?”

unexpectedly, haly starts to cackle loudly at his questions. turning around to reveal someone who has been absent, someone jaemin would never have thought of.

you. 

jaemin’s mind is internally crashing. why are you with haly? what is going on?

“y/n, do you want to explain to our dear jaemin here what’s going on?” haly finds so much amusement playing with you both, watching this event unfold.

“jaemin, i’m so sorry.” your lips are trembling, tears are starting to flood your vision.

“so it was all a lie?” jaemin can’t believe it. “everything that happened this year, it was just you building up to just stab me in the back?”

“i did it to protect you.” you’re sobbing hard now.

“save it.” jaemin cuts you off, now focusing on haly. “what do you want.”

“i want you dead.” haly says, blankly. 

“so what’s the deal.” the dreamies’ mouths were duct taped, but their muffled cries can still be heard.

haly is howling again.

“i get to kill you,” haly grins sinisterly. “and i let y/n and your little friends free.”

“if jaemin says yes, let me say one last thing to him.” your crying has stopped. “it’s the least you can do.”

jaemin is confused. are you just offering him up to haly with no fight? what are you thinking?

you look at him with pleading eyes, asking him to trust you. 

the same eyes he saw that day his parents died, and he knows to trust you.

“okay,” jaemin states boldly. “i say yes. now let y/n talk to me.”

haly is stunned. how did you convince jaemin to agree so quick? maybe haly was right to use you this time. the least he could do is to let jaemin and you have time to still pretend to be in love. so haly allows you to walk up to jaemin to talk.

“y/n, what are you doing.” jaemin whispers frantically.

“trust me, trust me this time.” you glance at him with weary eyes. “when i’m walking back to haly, when i signal to you, i want you to grab your friends and run. can you do that for me?” 

“what?” jaemin tries not to react to much that haly catches on, but do you hear what you’re suggesting? “you want me to just leave you here again?”

“jaemin listen to me, i’ll be fine. trust me.”

and you turn around, not letting jaemin respond.

there’s nothing he can do but go along with your plan.

and when you signal to him behind your back, jaemin grabs the dreamies and drags them away. everything is a whirlwind and happens in a flash. jaemin looks back and you’re struggling trying to get the gun out of haly’s hand. 

you notice jaemin stopping.

“jaemin, fucking RUN.” you scream at him.

there’s nothing he can do. and he hates himself that he got himself in this situation again. so he runs again, like the coward he is.

jaemin runs, because literally the dreamies’ lives are depending on him. when he gets them to safety, when he unties jeno, jeno pushes him towards where they came from.

“go.” jeno is huffing trying to catch his breath after removing the duct tape off his mouth. “i’ll untie everyone else, go get her.”

jaemin looks at jeno, and turns back for you.

when jaemin arrives back at the scene, you’re on the ground. he runs panic-stricken to you, finding you bleeding out really hard. 

“y/n? y/n, y/n please, are you okay?” he’s shaking you, distraught seeing you in this state.

“jaemin, i’m okay.” you say, barely any breath left in you. “i have the gun here, haly is behind the big box over there.”

“y/n, what are you talking about, we need to get you to the hospital.” jaemin tries to pick you up but you don’t allow him.

“use the gun and kill him.” you mutter out, quieter than before. “it’s what you wanted, jaemin. and he’ll be gone.” you’re smiling softly just thinking about it.

“y/n, are you insane? you’re going to die i could care less about haly, i’m taking you to the hospital–”

“jaemin let me go.” you mumble, stroking his cheek while you’re examining his pretty face for the last time. “it’ll be okay, it’s not your fault.”

“y/n…” jaemin’s tears are staining his shirt as he holds you tightly, trying to preserve your life.

“i love you, na jaemin.” a tear falls from your dazed gaze and trickles down your cold face. “i’m sorry that this is how it’s meant to be, our cruel fate.”

and you’re gone. 

jaemin screams. tears dripping down his face, he picks up the gun beside you and storms towards haly.

he’s basically sitting in a pool of his own blood and has no strength to get up anymore.

“is little greyson here to get revenge for his parents and little witch y/n?” he cackles even in the last moments of his life.

“yeah i am, they didn’t die for you to see another day too.”

haly is laughing sadistically again as if jaemin just told a joke, but the laughter subsides after the bullets fire through haly’s limp body. 

and he’s dead too. leaving jaemin alone, again. 

it’s been 2 years since you’ve died.

here he is, waking up. still can’t sleep on your side.

he really can’t sleep on your side, because it reminds him of those times where he woke up to your warm embrace, and now it’s desolately cold.

there’s your coffee cup, the lipstick stain fades with time.

he’s saved everything you had, and hasn’t touched anything. he’s also saved everything you shared, your bed, your apartment, everything. he needs those to remind him of those bittersweet memories of you.

when jaemin was going through your stuff, he finds a piece of paper on your work desk.

my dear jaemin,

when you find this, i’m probably going to be gone. but that’s okay, and i’ll tell you why.

first of all, thank you so much for these past 5 years. thank you for showing me what living life is like, what being a part of a family is like, and what being in love is like. you told me you wished you could give me a normal life, and you really fulfilled your wish. 

you must have so many questions right now, so i’m going to answer them.

i never left haly’s after you ran away. i couldn’t. because he was threatened by so many mobs and gangs everywhere, he had to kill off the other people that were a part of the circus. but he kept me. because i was the key to you. the government started an investigation into him, and he needed to keep a low-profile, but he still was angry that you didn’t die that night too. so he plotted this for years, and i just had to go along with it.

at first, i only agreed because i wanted to see you. i was young and still naive at the time, thinking that he wanted to see you too. but as i got older, i saw what he was planning. he would kill me in front of you and then take you out as well if i didn’t do as he said, so i kept quiet. i really did this to protect you.

i enjoyed every second being with you. you showed me the meaning of life i heard our patrons talk about. you showed me what true love was when i saw those elderly couples walking together as they look at each other adoringly while telling me they’ve been in love and married for decades. if i could choose to stay with you for a lifetime, i would, i would choose it a million times.

but i thought very long about this, and it truly is the only way.

remember when i asked you if you regretted anything that night? you mentioned how you regretted not listening to me, how you left me alone at the circus. and that’s when i realized, it was indeed our cruel fate.

you feel bad for me. you feel bad that you didn’t listen, you feel bad for leaving me at the circus, but it’s been over a decade. i know with me constantly here, you’re never going to stop feeling guilty, you’d never let the past go. we’re too young, too dumb, to know things like love. but i know better now. 

so jaemin, i did what i had to do. the best for the both of us. you got your revenge for your parents, and you’ll stop feeling guilty because i don’t want to hold you back and keep you feeling like this forever. 

i’m sorry jaemin i put you through all of this, and reminder that this is not your fault.

my love, nana, truly, truly, truly, thank you for everything. everything, everything, everything. 

there wasn’t a single day where i stopped wanting you. i want you in the most innocent form, i want to say goodnight to you and give you forehead kisses and say i love you when you feel at your worst. i want you in ways where i just want to be next to you and nothing more or less. i wish i could explain your eyes, oh how i adore your angel eyes, and how the sound of your voice gives me butterflies. how your smile makes my heart skip a beat and how every time i’m with you, i feel so complete. i swear when our lips touched, i could taste the remaining years of my life. i want you to know that when i picture myself happy, it’s with you.

i’ve looked at you in millions of ways, and i have loved you in every way.

but this is how it’s meant to be, our cruel fate.

my pretty boy, i love you forever.

his tears are ruining the page, and jaemin tries to wipe his tears away to save the letter.

when he turns around, he swears he can see you. and he chases it down, with a shot of truth.

maybe if he dreams long enough, you’d tell him he’d be just fine.

walking into the living room, remembering how you guys would slow dance like it was your wedding. your wedding. 

and he drowns it out, like he always does. dancing through your house, with a shot of truth, that his feet don’t dance, like the way they did with you.

jaemin knows your letter was right, he’s going to slowly get better, but he needs some time. meanwhile, he needs something help him cope, to get him by. 

so he’s dancing through your house, with the ghost of you.

©mrkcore, 2021.

[lyallblacklupin]

Sirius tries to remember Remus.

Post-Azkaban Wolfstar: Angst with Hopeful Ending.

Sirius is battling with his memory after Azkaban. 12 years of dementors torturing him, that had caused some real damages to his brain. He doesn’t remember people until they introduce themselves to him. Everyone is steering clear his way but Remus hasn’t given up on him yet.

These days are sickening. They make you feel so lonely and ugly. They tell you—no they scream at you that you don’t deserve anything. Know why? Because you don’t matter. You don’t exist. The most horrifying thing about those voices is that they can make you believe they are saying the truth. Like I did. And I still do, and believe me, it’s not good.

Life is just unfair is so easy to say, it’s just a slip of tongue as if you are consoling a group of people, like Madam Hooch used to when we would lose to Slytherins because they played dirty. However, realizing the fact how unfair life really is, is gut-wrenching. It forces you to become unlike yourself. It puts malevolent ideas in your head for the people who you love—or used to loved. I would go on and blame these walls, but then I’m questioning the universe that why did I have to be born here? The Grimmauld Place 12? And then I’m eventually answered; Life is unfair, you git, haven’t you get it yet?

The nights are terrible here, I hear Kreacher whispering to my charming mother’s portrait, I hear the floor creaking even though no one comes here, except they are invited by Dumbledore—which sounds weird because it’s my house but again, life is just unfair.

Right now, I’m struggling to sleep because there is a prickling fear sitting at the edges of my body. The fear of Dementors for taking the last of everything away.

I still have some good memories, like the one when James made me Harry’s Godfather. Harry’s big emerald eyes were streaming with fat tears until he was given into my arms. I can remember that I had gasped at the scene, and so did the others in the room.

“Oh Sirius! He was crying for like an hour! But he stops now!? I swear this is not a coincidence!” Lily said, but James had been quiet.

“Prongs?” No answer.

“Prongsie? Hey!” Because I caught him pressing his hand on his mouth forcefully, his face blotchy, and he didn’t stop sniffing. He was crying! “What? Like you—father and son both work alternatively? When Harry stops crying, he transfers his weeping mantra to you, and vice versa?”

“Shut up!” Before I said something, I let out an ‘oof’ because James shoved me in his embrace, sandwiching Harry in middle of the process. Harry was giggling with his tear-stained face. His laugh was like music to my ears. I didn’t mention that. I was in love with Harry. He felt like my own child. I never thought I’d feel this exuberance but there was, more than I expected. I was bad at displaying true affection in front of people, but I couldn’t help when Harry’s tiny and chubby hands brushed the collar of my jacket, utterly in awe with the feeling of material on his fingers, I completely forgot James was hugging me, and I managed to press a kiss on Harry’s cheek. He smelled like soft babies. I was in love with that scent. I wanted to hold him forever.

I can never forget that memory. It helps me cast a patronus. There is also something vague about that memory. There is someone too in the small crowd, behind me, other than James. I can remember there was the blonde girl, Mckinnon, and her best friend, Meadows-something. I struggle with names. Sometimes I forget—

“Sirius?”

—Remus’ name. I have to see or hear the person to see if I can remember.

“I’m in my room?” He calls me out every time for like the hundredth time he has found me in my bedroom, and yes, I am still in my bedroom. He won’t stop calling me out. Sometimes, he is very annoying.

“Oh yeah, Of course.” He appears at the doorway, leaning to his left, smiling weakly. He looks tired. He is short of breath. I want to give him a glass of water but my limbs are protesting.

“I could give you a glass of water, but I—just don’t feel like getting up.” I didn’t want to say that but I did because the expressions on Remus’ face are priceless. There is awkwardness written on his face with a hint of shock and sadness. There is nothing pretty about that, but it brings back an indistinct memory I enjoy that I cannot tell. I am disturbing. That’s another trait I have discovered about myself ever since I came back from Azkaban.

“No, it’s alright. I just had water. Not thirsty at all. I—umm…I brought you something.” He says, and then I notice a package in his hand.

“Hope it’s not something you and your werewolf buddies plays with.”

“Ha, no, I wish. But it’s something I needed to give you…from a very long time.” He comes and sits beside me. I had to sit up because I can’t let him touch me. I don’t know why but I am always scared of Remus Lupin, and it is my secret, “Here.” He gives me the package, and looks into my eyes. I try looking away but I couldn’t try harder.

“Happy Birthday.” He whispers, and it sends a shudder to my body. What is the date today?

I open the package, and there it is. A photo frame. It was a leather frame. Black. I am trying not to look at the picture so I distract myself by admiring the leather. And again, I remember Harry. But it is a forced visualization so it doesn’t last longer. I am very much aware of Remus’ presence. I am also getting short of breath now. I look at him and he is already staring at me. I smile at him, but he frowns. And then I frown, too. What is wrong? I saw his hand coming up near my face, and I bat away.

He is gawking at him with wide and horrified eyes, and a hurt expression.

“I—I’m sorry. I don’t…I just—I am sorry. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I know you don’t. But you eventually do.” It doesn’t come out bitter. He is smiling at me, but he isn’t done talking, “Sirius, I want to talk. It is eating me alive. Sometimes, I don’t think I am left with much longer in me…But, hey,” He reaches out but stops immediately, “Please…I—I want to talk to you about…Everything or anything. We can talk about us?”

“Us?”

“Yeah…If you want to,”

“There is no Us, Remus.”

“There used to be.” I snort, but he is frowning. I hate his frowns. Why can’t he just smile like a normal person?

“Like what? Did we snog? Or shagged once or twice?” I can’t recall any heterosexual experience, so I can’t say I have never done anything with a guy.

“Sirius, was that picture not enough?” He said with such sadness. And then I look at the picture.

And then I see it. There is a younger version of Remus Lupin, wearing a giant grey jumper, sitting on a library’s table. How decent. There is someone in between his legs, standing before him. It is a dark-haired guy, wearing a Gryffindor tie on his hogwarts’ uniform. He has his hands wrapped around Remus’ torso. A thick curtain of his long hair is almost concealing the half of his face, considering how much it is already buried in Remus’ chest. He squeezes gleefully which causes the younger Remus to erupt with laughter. The scene goes back and forth. And then I spot two people sitting in far distance. They were unmistakably James and Lily. They are the only people I recognize. Those two are cackling because how stupidly romantic the two boys are acting against each other. The picture keeps playing, and I focus again on the couple in the spotlight, and I realize that little Remus is trying to press a kiss on the guy’s forehead but the other person doesn’t stand still, constantly whipped his long hair—and then I freeze all of a sudden. Because I see it. The grey eyes, the long hair, and especially the scar on the left wrist, which still glows sliver in the daylight when I secretly stand in the balcony.

“That is us.” It comes out of my mouth even though I never expect myself to say it.

“Yeah, you and me. We were not just each other’s quick snog, or shagging partner. We go way back, Padfoot. Longer than James and Lily.”

“I don’t remember you…” It comes out as a whimper. I feel stupid and vulnerable.

“I’m sorry, Sirius. I’m sorry for what I did. I never apologized about this…I wanted to—“

“I don’t remember you…”

“—but I never really got a chance. I’m sorry I thought you could betray the Potters. I’m sorry that I kept myself believing for twelve years that it was you. But I swear to Merlin, I never stopped loving you—“

“I don’t remember you, Remus…” But he is not listening.

“—I used to hate myself for this. I felt disgusting that I still loved you. And then I melted myself in filthy thoughts. No one was there to judge me. I used to picture you all the time, sitting on the sofa waiting for me to come back from the muggle job you hated. I used to see you laying on the bed in the night. I used to imagine myself cuddling up with you. And some days, it was so real that we used to talk till dawn. We used to watch the sunrise together. October 31st used to come and go by, and we pretended it was just another Halloween and you used to say ‘Moony, you hate Halloween because some people dress up as werewolves, and you don’t get to wear a costume!’—“

I stop saying anything. I cannot tell that I don’t remember him because I do. His hand accidently rubs shoulder, and I am suddenly yanked to my happiest memory—Harry’s beautiful hands reaching my jacket—and the ‘someone’ is not just someone who is behind me, rubbing my lower back and laying his head against mine, because it was him. It was Remus Lupin. It is still Remus Lupin, I want him to be.

I cannot tell that I don’t remember him because I am starting to…and it’s a start. He keeps telling me how he spent the last twelve years, so I listen to him because my years were not in an open cage just like his. It was scary to be locked up for years and never to see the people you love, but it must have been even scarier to be free for years and never see the people you love. Remus Lupin has suffered too, and I can’t help but be there for him. 

So as he keeps rambling his stories about his undying love for me, I slip into his space, and wrap my arms around his torso, like I had in the picture, and bury my face into his chest. He is not warmer as he must have been in that picture but it calms me down because his heart is beating against mine, and I am happy to have him alive with me.

Thanks for reading! Stay magical!

[nugnthopkns]

dance me to the end of love (i)

word count: 4.3k

warnings: fem!oc, cursing, potential spoilers for the west wing if you've never seen the show

series masterpost: here

a/n: hi!! i am so incredibly happy to finally be putting this fic out into the world. it means an awful lot to me and i can't wait to share the little world i've created :)) x

Magdalene is content with where she’s ended up.

Denver is wonderful. Her friends are there, her cat is there, and it’s the perfect place for a fresh start. She arrived in the city nearly six years ago – a wide-eyed University of Denver freshman and has stayed put ever since. Her hometown of Aspen holds a few too many bad memories, but is close enough that she can return if an emergency calls for it. So far she hasn’t left, too engrossed in finishing her degree and moving on. There’s a job offer lined up with the university’s library upon graduation that Magdalene is ecstatic about. It means she gets to stay right where she is – where she’s comfortable.

☼☼☼☼

The sun might be shining as she exits her apartment building, but it’s cold for March. Magdalene pulls the thick scarf her best friend Bette got her for Christmas higher up her face and walks as quickly as possible to campus. There’s a brief meeting to attend with her advisor before grabbing lunch with Bette, and then her plan is to spend the rest of the day holed up in the library working on her thesis. It’s due in two weeks, with the defence in just over a month, and Magdalene is incredibly nervous. Though she’d gone through submitting her undergraduate thesis two years ago, presenting her master’s research was going to be a lot harder. She’s heard through the grapevine that the committees are being tough this year and she doesn’t want to fail.

Dr. Williams is waiting for her in his office with a smile on his face. He’s a tall man, with thin facial features and wire glasses that box him perfectly into the intimidating professor stereotype. “Miss Stevenson, please sit,” he gestures to the chair across from him.

“Gerald,” she sighs, “You can call me Magdalene, I don’t mind. Besides, it makes you quite the hypocrite if you insist I call you by your first name but you won’t use mine.” There’s no malice in her voice, just a decent amount of teasing.

The older man scoffs but concedes. “I suppose you’re right. Well then Magdalene, tell me, how are your final edits coming along?”

Magdalene spends nearly twenty minutes detailing all the elements she has tweaked since their last meeting, from the title to the citation style. She’s out of breath by the time she’s done, rambling at an impressive speed, and takes a big gasp of air while the professor mulls over her words. Dr. Williams doesn’t say anything, causing Magdalene to shift anxiously in her seat. “Sir, is there something wrong?”

He shakes his head. “Absolutely nothing,” he beams, “Everything is perfect. It’s a shame you don’t want to continue researching. You’d make a fabulous academic.”

The compliment makes Magdalene’s heart soar. It means a lot, especially coming from the person who has seen her cry over the oxford comma. “Thank you sir, but I belong in the practical realm. Someone has to file all the documents you obsessively scan.”

She leaves the building soon after, promising to stop by after she drops off the final draft in a few weeks. It’s a bit later than she expected and hopes Bette won’t be mad. There’s nothing the blonde hates more than poor time management, but Magdalene prays she’ll understand. It wasn’t that long ago and Bette was scheduling her own appointments with advisors on how to graduate. Barn Owl Book Company is located halfway between the school and her apartment, making it the perfect spot to meet. In addition to being a used book store, Barn Owl sports one of the best cafés in downtown Denver. Bette is perched delicately at her friend’s favourite seat, a bay window converted into a small nook, and typing furiously on her phone.

“Sorry I’m late,” Magdalene apologizes, “Williams talked a lot more than I expected him to.”

Bette looks up and smiles, shoving a cup in the other girl’s direction. “As always. How is he?”

Sliding into the booth, Magdalene fills her friend in on what’s been going on in their former professor’s life. Bette graduated with a minor in Classics, and it was Magdalene's major, but the former decided not to further her education and is instead doing full time charity work for the Colorado Avalanche. Her boyfriend Tyson is one of their star players, and the two of them are so smitten it makes Magdalene sick. Conversation quickly turns from school to life, which she’s grateful for.

“So,” Bette says, “Are you in for the trip this summer? I’ve got to confirm the reservation in a week or something.”

“I don’t know Bee, I'm going to be the new girl. Asking for time off like two months into the job would be rude.”

“Linny,” the blonde whines, “Please? I want you to come.”

Magdalene scowls. Bette knows just how much the nickname sours her mood but she chose to use it anyway. “Don’t call me that,” she snaps with quite a bite. “Can someone else take my spot if I decide not to go a little closer to the date?”

“Of course! Gravy said he’d fill an extra spot if one comes up so we don’t lose the deposit,” Bette blabs before trying to switch gears entirely. Magdalene cuts her off.

“Who’s Gravy?”

If her friend is exasperated by Magdalene’s lack of knowledge surrounding hockey, she doesn’t show it. Bette calmly explains that Gravy, who’s real name is Ryan, is a defenceman with the Avalanche and a good friend of Tyson’s. She also makes a point of mentioning that he’s single, to which Magdalene rolls her eyes. Bette has a masterplan for her life – which includes her best friend becoming romantically involved with an Avalanche player so the two of them can live the better half life together. As the best friend, Magdalene is constantly barraged with potential players who are looking to date. Once she went on a few dates with Mikko, but that ended fairly quickly when the two realized they were better as friends. Every time since she’s turned Bette down as gently as possible, not wanting to get involved with anyone. Her life is just starting, and Magdalene wants to be secure before settling down.

The conversation eventually shifts to what Magdalene plans to wear for both her thesis defence and graduation. Bette is fashion savvy, while Magdalene is decidedly not. Her everyday wardrobe consists of collared button-downs and sweater vests, which is supposedly never going to back a comeback, according to Bette at least. The blonde eventually wears Magdalene down, and secures a position as stylist for the graduation ceremony. There was an attempt at the thesis defence, but the other girl insists she needs to be as comfortable as possible on such a stressful occasion.

A glance to the clock on the opposite wall has Magdalene stretching her arms and giving an apologetic glance to her friend on the other side of the table. “I should go,” she says. “I’ve got to put in some serious work on my citations today, and you know Caligula doesn’t like it when I’m gone all day.”

Bette rolls her eyes, but there isn’t any frustration behind the gesture. “I swear to god Mags, your cat has more separation anxiety than I do. Speaking of, I’m supposed to pick Tyson up at the airport and I’m running behind.”

“Tell him I say hi,” Magdalene says as she wraps her arms around Bette for a quick hug.

The two girls part ways on the sidewalk, with Magdalene heading back to campus and Bette sliding into the sleek Audi she shares with her boyfriend. Headphones find their way into her ears, and Magdalene listens to a random comedy podcast. Once tucked safely inside the library she’ll put on her favourite lo-fi playlist and concentrate, but for now she just enjoys the funny anecdotes of stories past.

It’s quiet in the library for a Tuesday, though Magdalene isn’t complaining. Her favourite table, the one she swears up and down is the only reason she ever gets anything done, is open, and she all but sprints to place her bag on the worn leather chair. While setting up her work station a few of the librarians come over to offer their congratulations for her upcoming job. News certainly travels fast around here, Magdalene thinks, but accepts their generosity with a smile on her face. They leave her alone soon enough and the tedious work of double checking the formatting of every single citation in the sixty-five page paper begins.

Hours pass, and Magdalene stays working in the library until as late as she possibly can. Caligula is going to start to worry about the length of her absence soon and his anxiety response of knocking over plants is not a mess she feels like cleaning up. She packs up her laptop and walks the short distance home as fast as possible.

“Little boots, I’m home,” Magdalene parrots in a sing-song voice as she slips her jacket off her shoulders and onto the hanger. At the sound of his nickname, the small cat bounds into the entryway. “Hi darling, did you miss me?” Magdalene gets an obnoxiously loud purr in response that she takes it as a yes. She reaches down to pick up the tiny animal before continuing further into the apartment, scratching behind his ears as she does so. The two of them settle into the respectably sized couch, where they stay for the rest of the night watching reruns of The West Wing before Magdalene falls asleep.

☼☼☼☼

“You fucking did it!” Bette shrieks as she bounds towards her best friend. Magdalene braces herself for the oncoming assault, and manages to keep them both upright after Bette jumps into her arms.

Her thesis defence had just finished, and the committee found Magdalene a worthy candidate for the Master of Information Science qualification. The presentation itself was open to the public, so Bette and Tyson sat in the front row to support Magdalene, but were escorted out for the conversation that followed. The two girls had developed a code so the news could be shared in a subtle way, though Bette threw the original plan out the window as soon as she saw her friend give a sneaky thumbs up when the conference room door opened.

“Congrats Mags,” Tyson says sincerely, doing his best not to add to the growing spectacle, but Magdalene can tell he wants to give her a bone crushing hug.

“Thank you,” she smiles softly, “And thank you guys for coming. It means a lot.” As two of her closest friends, both Bette and Tyson know that her family situation is rocky at best, and having them act as her support system means more than she’ll ever be able to articulate.

The couple shares a knowing look before engulfing their friend in a hug. “We’re always going to be here for you,” Bette whispers, “No matter what.”

Magdalene’s smile is so genuine it crinkles her eyes as she wraps her arms around Bette and Tyson’s shoulders and leads them out the door and into the sunshine. The group continues to the parking lot, where they climb into Tyson’s car and drive off campus in the direction of Magdalene’s favourite restaurant. Though she had tried to convince her friends they didn’t need to celebrate, she failed, and Magdalene soon finds herself laughing hysterically over a plate of carbonara as Tyson tells a story about the shenanigans the team got up to on their last road trip.

There’s a game tonight, and Bette has somehow convinced her into attending. Magdalene knows she should go, expand her social horizons a little, but all she wants to do is curl up in bed and sleep for three weeks. Her one condition is that she can go home straight after the game without being guilted into following the group to whatever nightclub they’ll celebrate the win or drink away the loss in. Tyson has to get ready so he drops the two girls off at Magdalene's apartment complex. She’s in charge of getting Bette to the rink, and she’ll leave with her boyfriend after the game.

Once inside the confines of her home, Magdalene promptly lies on the floor. “Holy shit,” she sighs, “I did it. I fucking did it.”

“You did!” Bette says as she lies down beside her best friend. “I’m so fucking proud of you, and Tyson is too. Even if he won’t tackle you in public to prove it.”

The comment garners a laugh from Magdalene, which alerts Caligula to the presence of others in the apartment. He pads over the rug currently being occupied by two adults, and snuggles into the small space between them. Bette and Magdalene continue to lay there, petting the cat and looking back fondly on all the times Magdalene called her friend in tears because she didn’t think she could push herself any farther. Bette was always there to pick up the slack, editing whatever section Magdalene was working on or to bring over a hot meal. Her support earned her the top spot in the acknowledgements section of the thesis.

Ball Arena is already crawling with people when Magdalene pulls into the small lot for player’s and their families. Normally she parks with the general public, but Bette insists they watch this game from the better halves box, and these spaces are closer to that entrance.

“Stop dragging your feet,” the blonde chastises as Magdalene takes her time cutting the engine. “I want to get a glass of rosé before they sell out.”

Sighing, Magdalene follows her orders. “Don’t you have a special bar in the box?” she asks while locking the car.

“Yeah, but the other girls are absolute fiends. They’ll drink it all before we get there with no remorse.”

The girls climb the stairs to the better halves box, Bette chatting excitedly about the game, but Magdalene stops just before the entrance. She’s met most of the others on multiple occasions and has nothing to worry about, but she can’t help but feel anxious. Her life is so different than everyone else’s in the space, and it feels like cheating when she’s there because she isn’t romantically involved with anyone on the roster. Bette likes to joke that she’s her better half, but Magdalene knows it’s said just to calm her nerves.

“It’ll be fine,” Bette whispers while squeezing her hand, “And if you get too uncomfortable we can find some seats in the nosebleeds.”

Once inside Magdalene’s nerves dissipate. Most of the other wives and girlfriends pay her no mind, but the ones that are especially close to Bette congratulate her on passing her defence. It warms her heart a little, and the small group Magdalene finds herself in settles down to watch the game unfold.

It’s a fairly intense one between Colorado’s division rival St. Louis. Both teams are fighting for first place in the conference, and a win for the Avalanche would put them three points ahead of the Blues instead of one. Players from both sides are amped up, and more than once a scrum at the net has turned into a dog-pile. Colorado is outplaying the other team, but have still managed to find themselves a goal short heading into the final period. At the buzzer Tyson takes the face-off and is immediately shoved by a member of the opposite team. He goes down hard, and Bette squeezes Magdalene’s hand so tightly she fears it will lose blood flow. Silence falls over the arena as Tyson doesn’t immediately get up. The inside of lip finds its way between her teeth and Magdalene bites down hard, worried about her friend. She’s so focussed on Tyson that she doesn’t notice a fight breaking out.

“Holy shit, Gravy is going to town!”

The remark is made by someone Magdalene recognizes as Gabe Landeskog’s wife, and it makes her peel her eyes off of Bette’s worried features and scan the ice for some action. Sure enough, a very tall man is laying right hooks to someone who looks significantly smaller than him on the Avalanche blue line. The referees let the fight continue until Tyson drags himself off the ice and onto the bench before separating the men and throwing them in the penalty box. Magdalene can tell words are still being exchanged from both sides of the glass, but she’s more focussed on the fact Tyson doesn’t make his way to the dressing room – a good sign that allows Bette to drop her hand and let out a shaky breath.

Nothing of great importance happens until MacKinnon ties the game with seven minutes left. It happens while the Avalanche are short handed, and the goal seems to light a fire beneath the team. Magdalene may not know much about hockey, but she’s smart enough to notice the insane amount of energy all the players suddenly have. Time ticks by slowly and before she realizes it, the final face-off is taking place. Luckily it’s in the St. Louis zone and won by Colorado. The puck is tipped back to the same player who got in the fight for Tyson, Gravy, and he one times it right into the back of the net. The buzzer goes off not a second later, and the entire team piles on top of the player who just won them the game.

Bette and Magdalene join in the shrieks of the other partners, jumping from their seats in excitement. Eventually they make their way down to the hallway outside the locker room and lean against the brick while they wait for Tyson.

“You don’t have to stay,” Bette insists, “I can wait by myself.”

Magdalene shakes her head. “No way. I want to make sure he’s okay too. What good is a friend with a black eye?”

The other girl laughs at her friend’s stubbornness but doesn’t shoo her away. Once Magdalene has made a decision it’s hard to get her to sway from it, and Bette knows better than to push. Besides, who is she to deny her friend a bit more social interaction? Magdalene has spent the past six years practically holed up in the library and deserves to stand in a crowded hallway.

The friends chat idly while they wait, with Magdalene sharing some of the most ridiculous questions she got asked in her defence interview that morning. She’s mid story when Tyson exits the dressing flanked by a man dressed sharply in all black.

“Hey guys,” Tyson greets, dipping his head to place a kiss to Bette’s cheek before doing an elaborately goofy handshake with Magdalene.

“Good game baby,” Bette compliments sweetly. She then turns her attention to the boy standing awkwardly on the fringes. “You too Graves.”

He smiles shyly, muttering out a small thanks. It’s then he seems to notice the final member of the group, and offers his hand in greeting. “Hi, I’m Ryan.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Magdalene.”

She puts two and two together on the walk to her car. The Ryan Magdalene just met is the same who will take her spot on the trip, fought someone in Tyson’s defence, and scored the game winning goal. Though they’ve only said a few words, she likes him. He seems genuine, and those people are the rarest to find.

☼☼☼☼

Magdalene is walking across a graduation stage for the final time in two days. However, she can’t find anyone to take the third ticket. The University of Denver has a stupid rule where all graduates must have three guests attend the ceremony. Bette and Tyson are obviously occupying two of Magdalene’s seats, but she’s having trouble filling the third.

“I can ask Tys if one of the guys is free,” Bette shrugs. The two girls are sitting in the window of Barn Owl drinking iced lattes and discussing what Magdalene should wear to the ceremony.

“It’s okay,” Magdalene says, “I don’t want to bother anyone. Maybe I’ll just ask June.”

Her friend’s eye roll so far back into her head Magdalene isn’t sure they won’t stay there. “You can’t ask your boss to watch you graduate Mags! Besides, Gravy owes Tyson a favour and was already looking for something to do. I’m sure he won’t mind wasting a few hours as long as he gets drinks out of it.”

There isn’t a better option, so even though she barely knows the guy, Magdalene agrees. “Make sure he gets this?" she sighs, handing her friend an envelope with a single ticket in it. "I have to go. Caligula should be done at the vet soon.”

“Say hello to little boots for me,” Bette giggles as she waves goodbye.

Hours later, tucked into her couch with a glass of wine in one hand and Caligula playing with the fingers on the other, Magdalene realizes she invited a complete stranger to her graduation and how that could be a terrible idea. Sure, Ryan sounds like a great guy from the way Bette and Tyson talk about him, but he’s only ever spoken three words to her. Since that game she’s gone out with the team a few times, but the man with the piercing stare is yet to make an appearance. Magdalene considers that perhaps he’s more like her than his profession gives him credit for, and she feels a twinge of guilt about being worried he’d cause a scene at the ceremony.

There isn’t any more time for her to fret over the third and final guest on the list. At the last minute Bette decides there’s nothing in Magdalene’s closet that’s suitable for her to wear, so a trip to a local second-hand store ensues. While it’s nice that her friend has taken their carbon footprints into consideration, Magdalene wishes it didn’t have to happen an hour and a half before the ceremony is supposed to start.

“We have to be there in twenty minutes Bette,” she frets, tapping her foot nervously against the tile flooring.

If they can’t find whatever it is Bette’s looking for, Magdalene will have to walk across the stage in denim cutoffs and a faded t-shirt with Neil Young’s face on it, which is something she’s hoping to avoid at all costs.

“Have no fear, Mags,” she says with a knowing glint in her eye, “For I have found it.” Bette holds up a hanger that is holding a beautiful long sleeve dress adorned with a whimsical floral print.

Magdalene can’t help the gasp that escapes from her. “It’s beautiful,” she breathes, “But let’s hope it fits.”

The dress does in fact fit, and the workers are kind enough to let her wear it out of the store. Bette drives at a speed that might not be the safest to travel at in downtown Denver, but she gets to the school with minutes to spare. She shoos her friends out of the car so she can go pick up Tyson and Ryan, and Magdalene checks in with little hassle. The pool of graduates is fairly small, so she chats with a few classmates while they wait for the call to put their gowns on. Time passes quicker than expected, and soon Magdalene is being directed to her seat. She zones out while the dean gives a congratulatory speech and they go through the first few names. At one point she looks backwards into the crowd to find Bette, Tyson, and Ryan all giving her a thumbs up. The nerves she didn’t even know she had settle.

A faculty member signals for Magdalene’s row to stand up, and she smoothes her dress before dutifully following the person in front of her. Giddiness bubbles in her stomach at the thought of being done school forever. A hand from the stage crew give a cue, and Magdalene appears on the stage as her accomplishment is broadcast through the microphone.

“Magdalene Stevenson is being awarded a Masters in Information Science in Archival Studies and Records Management.” It feels so good to finally be finished that she lets a tear slip as she shakes the hand of the staff member handing her the package with her diploma in it.

The rest of the ceremony passes in a blur, and before Magdalene knows it her friends are approaching to congratulate her. Bette and Tyson wrap her in a tight hug, murmuring praise in her ears. Ryan stands awkwardly to the side before Bette drags him into the celebration. The four of them stand in the courtyard where the ceremony was for much longer than needed. Bette is crying enough to refill Sloan Lake if there is ever a drought and is yet to let go of Magdalene’s figure.

It’s only when the event staff ask them to leave so they can tear down the stage does Magdalene turn to leave campus for the last time as a student. She’ll be back in a few weeks as an employee, but deep down she knows this is the last time she’ll ever feel such a deep connection to the place.

“Victory is mine, victory is mine! Great day in the morning people, victory is mine!” Magdalene yells, quoting Josh Lyman as she skips down the path towards Bette’s car.

Both Bette and Tyson are confused at the sudden outburst, not knowing what she’s talking about, but Ryan responds without missing a beat. “Should I bring you all the muffins and bagels in the land?” His response doesn’t clear anything up, but it elicits a giant smile from Magdalene, who laughs and nods in confirmation.

Sitting in the back of Bette’s Audi, on the way to a graduation party she’s supposed to know nothing about, Magdalene decides that she wants to get to know Ryan Graves better. From what she’s garnered from Bette and Tyson he’s a class act, standing up for friends and giving good advice. He likes The West Wing and showed up to a stranger’s graduation, so how bad can he be?

☼☼☼☼

additional notes: see what magdalene's graduation dress looks like here // the quote from the west wing is from 1.02 if you were curious!

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @scrunchmakar @marcoscandellas @toplinetommy (add yourself to the taglist!)

[seanfalco]

The Great Death Defying Nathan Young | Nathan Young x Reader

Word Count: 3.9k Warning(s): Suggestive language, Blood, Character Death (but it’s Nathan, so he’s okay)

Summary: Becoming a Vegas magician’s personal assistant, you get more than you bargained for when you find out the hard way that the magic is actually real, and so are your feelings.

a/n: Dedicated to @midnightseance / @imagine-you for our one year friendaversary!  You were the one to inspire this fic with your ideas after all lol.  Thank you Mel for being such an amazing friend and writing partner.  I love you to bits!  (To bits, I say!)

“This your first day?” the woman with the clipboard and headset next to you asked, startling you. Tearing your eyes from the stage, you nodded.

“I’m [y/n],” you introduced, shaking the woman’s hand as she checked her clipboard.

“I’m Deb. Ah, yes, here you are,” she said, looking back up at you. “You’ll be shadowing me today,” she explained. “Apparently Mr. Young needs more than one personal assistant,” she added under her breath.

“What’s he like?” you asked as you fell into step with the woman.

“A giant pain in my ass,” she grumbled with a twist of her lips. “Everyday its something else: ‘I’m hungry, fetch me some more cornettos’, ‘get Marnie a new pair of lingerie, you know th’kind I like’, ‘I need more condoms’,” she exclaimed in a poor imitation of an Irish accent.

“Oh,” you exclaimed, your brows rising in surprise. You were starting to get a better picture of what this Nathan Young you were going to be working for was like and he seemed like a bit of a prick.

——

——

“Mr. Young,” Deb called through the door to his dressing room after knocking several times with no answer. “Mr. Young!” she tried again, louder this time.

“What? Jay-sus, come on in!”

Deb rolled her eyes as she opened the door and you got your first look at ‘The Great Nathan Young’. Sprawled back in a rather grandiose throne-like chair, one long leg thrown over the arm rest, he wore naught but a half open silk robe tied loosely at the waist and a long silver chair round his neck that glittered against his bare chest.

Sporting a dashing goatee and dark wavy locks that framed his face, his dark limned emerald eyes unabashedly looked you up and down, openly checking you out with a small quirk to his lips.

“And who’re you?” he asked, his lilting accent taking you by surprise. It was nothing like how Deb had impersonated.

“This is [y/n], she’s your new assistant,” Deb introduced, sounding bored as she looked disdainfully around his messy dressing room.

“New assistant? I thought I was your assistant!” the dark haired girl you’d seen on stage earlier exclaimed, her voice a rather grating whine.

“What? No, sweetheart,” Nathan soothed, pulling her into his lap. “She’s my new personal assistant, you’re my magical assistant,” he explained and the girl ‘ohhhh’d’ in understanding, letting out a high pitched giggle.

“Well, that’s a relief,” she exclaimed. “I thought you were gettin’ rid of me for a moment there.”

You noticed Deb roll her eyes again and fought the urge yourself.

“Alright, well, if you don’t need anything—” Before she could finish, Marnie spoke up, cutting her off.

“Actually, I’d like a coffee!”

“Oooh, and I’ll have a soda, and a sandwich,” Nathan added.

Ushering you out of the room before the two could asked for anything else, Deb grumbled under her breath, showing you where the food cart was and how to make Marnie’s coffee the way she like it, with extra sugar.

——

You’d only been on the job a handful of days, but you had to admit it was kind of exciting, despite Nathan’s constant demanding whims. Standing off to the side to watch that night’s rehearsal, you couldn’t help but marvel at how real it all looked.

“Marnie! Stop stop stop!” Nathan cried, frustration lacing his voice as he stopped the production to chastise his partner for about the third time.

“What now?” Marnie exclaimed with a huff, crossing her arms petulantly over her chest.

“You’re not hitting your mark!” Nathan groaned, gesturing to the taped off X on the middle of the stage. “How am I s’posed t’make yeh disappear if y’don’t hit your mark?”

“I don’t know! Does it really matter that much?”

This wasn’t the first time they’d ended up in a shouting match either. It seemed over the past few days, since you’d started, there’d been trouble in paradise, the two constantly picking at one another.

“I need a break, I’m gettin’ a fuckin’ headache,” Nathan groaned, walking off the stage and you hurried after him.

“Can I get you anything?” you asked and Nathan pulled his hand from his face to look up at you.

“An aspirin?” he asked, a pathetic note to his voice before covering his eyes again as he slumped back in his chair. Shaking your head ruefully, you went to go grab a bottled water and some aspirin, holding them out to him.

“Here y’go, drink up,” you prompted, watching him pop the pills in his mouth and down them with a swig of water.

“Thanks,” he muttered, eyeing you askance and you smiled— it was probably the first time he’d actually thanked you for anything.

“No problem,” you murmured. “Can I ask you something?” you wondered after a moment, your curiosity getting the better of you. You knew he was probably going to tell you “a magician never reveals his secrets” or some other bullshit line, but you had to ask anyway.

“Hmm?” Nathan prompted, his eyes still closed.

“How do you make it all look so real?” you asked, a hint of awe in your voice and Nathan’s eyes opened as he straightened, fixing you with a smirk.

“That’s because it is all real,” he exclaimed grandly.

Snorting, you rolled your eyes. “Alright, keep your secrets then.”

“I’m serious!” Nathan insisted. He looked like he was gunna say more until the production manager called him back to the stage and he let out a heavy sigh, pushing out of his chair. “I’d love t’stay and chat, but duty calls,” he muttered, spreading his hands apologetically.

“Oh, but first… this is for you,” he said, stopping suddenly to turn, and with a flourish he held out a single red rose to you. “I didn’t know what your favourite flower was… or really how t’make anythin’ that isn’t a rose so…” he trailed off with a shrug and you took the flower, watching him walk to the stage in awe.

Turning, you found Deb watching you, rolling her eyes at the grin you quickly wiped off your face. However, once she left, you smiled to yourself, tucking the flower behind your ear.

Busying yourself with rearranging Nathan’s wardrobe rack, you lost track of what was happening on stage until an angry shriek filled your ears and you jumped, your head snapping up. Before you knew what had happened, Marnie was pushing past you, nearly knocking you over in her haste, Nathan hot on her heels.

“No, I’m done!” she exclaimed, stomping her foot in consternation.

“But Marnie, baby, c’mon!” Nathan pleaded, rushing past to follow her to his dressing room.

“You better go after them,” Deb groaned, running her hand down her face.

Not exactly wanting to eavesdrop, it was kind of unavoidable, however, as you stood outside the open door. Marnie was throwing her clothes into a suitcase in a huff.

“I can’t do this anymore! You said it was gunna be a cakewalk, but you lied!” she cried hysterically, her already nasally voice raising an octave.

“What am I s’posed t’do without you?” Nathan countered, trying to get her to stop.

“I dunno, get another assistant! How about her?” Marnie pointed at you, having caught sight of you standing by the door. “I’ve seen you flirtin’ with her!”

Nathan grimaced as he caught your eye, the rose he’d given you still tucked in your hair and you flashed him an apologetic look. “Marnie—” he tried again, but she brushed past him, her bags in hand.

“No, Nathan, we’re through. Don’t follow me!”

“You’ll be sorry!” he yelled after her before sweeping dramatically back into his dressing room. “Well, y’comin’ in or not?” he called when you hesitated.

“What, uhm, what was all that about?” you asked, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind you. Nathan already had a bottle in his hand and when he turned to face you, plopping down in his chair your brows rose in surprise.

Instead of the long hair you’d come to recognize on him he sported a mess of dark springy curls piled atop his head, and his facial hair was nowhere to be found, making him look nearly ten years younger.

“Oh, who knows? She’s always been fickle, but who needs her, right?” Nathan replied with bravado, waving his hand as he brought the bottle back to his lips.

“You-your face… you look—” you floundered and Nathan snorted.

“Different?” he scoffed, snorting. “Yeah, well, it’s fake.”

“But you said…”

Giving you a patient look as he sat up, he seemed to find your shock amusing. “Th’magic is real, but my appearance ain’t,” he explained. “I mean, clearly, I’m gorgeous, but d’yeh think anyone would pay t’see ‘The Great Nathan Young’ if I looked like this?” he asked, gesturing to his face.

“I dunno, probably. I think y’look better this way,” you added with a shrug, your words taking him aback and he gaped at you. “So, what’re you gunna do now?” you asked, quickly changing the subject, your face starting to warm at your admission.

Groaning, Nathan deflated in his chair. “I’ll have t’find another assistant t’take Marnie’s place, and fast, opening night is tomorrow and if we have to postpone… it’ll be a disaster.”

“It can’t be that bad, can it?” you asked, trying to lift his spirits, but he merely gave you a flat stare before burying his face in his hands.

“I’ve got a lot riding on this show, if it flops... As a kid, all I ever wanted was t’be a magician and this show is my big break. I guess I could always go back t’do card tricks in casinos...” he sighed, the sadness in his voice tugging at your heart.

Trying to think of something to say, you awkwardly patted his shoulder, jumping when he suddenly sat up, his gaze lifting to you and you didn’t like the appraising way he looked at you.

“What…?” you asked hesitantly, although you could already guess what he was thinking.

“You could be my new assistant!” he exclaimed, jumping to his feet. “You’re already familiar with the show and—”

“Oh, no no no,” you quickly protested, holding your hands up.

“Oh c’mon! You’d look stunning, and you’d be savin’ th’show,” Nathan argued. “D’you want me t’beg?” he asked, promptly dropping to his knees at your feet, only making your face flare hotter.

“That’s not—”

Before you could finish, he’d taken your hands in his as he gazed up at you entreatingly, his gorgeous green eyes getting the better of you.

“Alright, fine, but Deb’s gunna be pissed,” you groaned.

Instantly Nathan’s demeanor brightened, a grin stretching his face. “Leave that crusty old bat t’me,” he exclaimed, waving the thought away as he leapt to his feet, pressing a kiss to your cheek before you’d even realized it. “C’mon, we better get you into costume, we have a rehearsal t’finish!

——

As you’d feared, Deb was not happy about this new development, leaving her once again to Nathan’s whims as his main personal assistant, and grumbling under her breath, she led you to wardrobe.

“Let’s see how long you last!” she exclaimed as she left you to change. Holding up your costume, you eyed the scanty sequined outfit with reluctance. Sighing, you pulled the costume on and inspected yourself in the mirror. Though you weren’t usually very comfortable wearing something so revealing, you found yourself looking forward to Nathan’s reaction, touching your cheek where he’d kissed you.

“Wow!” he breathed, left stunned for a moment as his mouth fell open, his gaze taking you in. It wasn’t long, however, for his cocky demeanor to return, and he let out a low whistle before flashing you a cheeky smirk.

“See, told yeh you’d look amazin’,” he exclaimed, back in his wig and goatee, and you rolled your eyes; you really did like him better without that ridiculous get up.

Climbing up on stage with him, he walked you through each act and you were thankful you had at least some knowledge of what you were supposed to do after watching Marnie so many times. Up close and part of the action, the magic tricks seemed even more real and though you tried, you couldn’t quite figure out how he did it.

“Well, I think that went as well as can be hoped for,” the production manager exclaimed, a haggard look on his face. He, like Nathan, needed the show to go off without a hitch.

“Hey, you were great up there!” Nathan called, catching up to you as you headed back to the spare dressing room — yours, now — to change.

“Really?” you asked, kinda surprised; you’d felt like you’d just been fumbling your way through it.

“Yeah, you’re a natural,” he insisted, leaning against the wall next to your door and you rolled your eyes, fighting a pleased grin.

“So…” Nathan murmured, his gaze dropping as he leaned in closer, trailing his fingers up your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Wanna come round t’mine tonight? I’ll help keep your mind off the pre-show jitters,” he offered.

For a moment you merely stared at him incredulously.

“We’ll get drunk, have a little fun—”

“I can’t believe you!” you exclaimed in disgust.

“What?” he asked, a confused frown pulling at his lips. “I’ve seen th’way you look at me when y’think on one’s watching. You want me,” he argued.

“So you think just because I took Marnie’s place that I’ll sleep with you too?”

“Yeah, why not? Y’know you want to,” Nathan countered.

Growling, you pushed past him into your dressing room. “And here I was starting to think you might not be a total prick!” You caught the surprised look on Nathan’s face before slamming the door in his face, and that at least made you feel a little better.

——

It was the night of the performance, opening night, and you felt like you were gunna be sick. You’d never done anything like this before. What if you fucked it up and ruined the show? Looking at your reflection in the mirror, you groaned, wishing you could relax when a knock at your door made you jump.

“C-come in!” he called, your voice wavering.

When Nathan’s head appeared around the door you directed him a flat stare. “What, you here to ask me for a quick shag before the show?” you sneered, trying not to think about how handsome he looked in his suit.

“No!” he exclaimed hastily, though he looked slightly guilty. “No, actually I just came t’check on you. I figured you might be a little nervous.”

“A little…” you admitted, your glare softening somewhat and Nathan offered you a smile.

“Just… don’t think about the audience. Focus on me,” he murmured. “You’re gunna do great,” he assured you before his eyes trailed downward and quickly back up. “You look stunning by the way,” he exclaimed, quickly ducking out the door before you could chuck something at him, leaving you flushed and slightly flustered.

“Prick,” you muttered under your breath, but the word held no heat.

Waiting in the wings, you felt stage fright wash over you afresh as you caught sight of how many people were in the audience. Your heart pounding in your ears, your breath sped up as your whole body felt rooted in place. How were you supposed to do this?

You have no speaking lines, you reminded yourself, taking a deep breath, then another. All you have to do is bring Nathan his props and look pretty. All you have to do is focus on him…

Suddenly the house lights dimmed and went dark, a hush going over the house.

“You ready?” Nathan’s voice in your ear sent a shiver through you, and you yelped softly as he pinched your ass. Before you could turn to smack him he disappeared with a flourish of the cloak he wore, appearing in the middle of the stage in a cloud of smoke for his grand entrance to a crescendo of music and applause.

For a moment you stared at where he’d been in surprise. You’d never been that close before when he did that, you always just assumed it was some sort of trick with a trap door, but now you weren’t so sure.

“Allow me to introduce t’you my very lovely assistant, [y/n]!”

Nathan’s lilting voice calling your name snapped you out of your thoughts and you nearly missed your cue, hurrying on stage to stand next to him, bowing low to the audience before hanging off his arm.

“Took your sweet time,” he whispered, his brows furrowing slightly. “Thought you got cold feet…”

“How’d you do that?” you hissed, still trying to wrap your head around it.

“I told you, it’s magic,” he replied with a smirk, turning back to address the audience. “For my first trick—”

After your first near miss, the rest of the show went off without a hitch and you were actually starting to enjoy yourself, thankful for the brightness of the lights overhead which kept you from really being able to see the audience that clearly.

“You ready for the big finale, sweetheart?” Nathan whispered, slipping his arm around you.

“I have a name, you know,” you reminded him, but there was no snap to your voice and he merely raised his eyebrows at you.

“Are y’ready for the big finale, [y/n]?” he amended, bringing a grin to your face though you tried to hide it.

“Yeah, I think so. Are you?” you asked. Even though you’d seen him perform this trick several times it still made you nervous.

“You know it,” he answered, a genuine smile splitting his face. “Y’know, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were enjoying yourself,” he pointed out, nudging your arm.

“I am,” you admitted, hurrying back on stage before he could react.

——

“And now for my final performance of the night, I will be recreating a feat first done by Harry Houdini himself!” Nathan exclaimed grandly to the audience, throwing his arms wide. “Let’s see if I survive!”

“Please don’t say that,” you muttered, helping him shed his cape and fitting the straitjacket on him, securing his arms in place while dramatic music played.

“What, y’worried? I can do this in my sleep,” Nathan murmured, flexing his arms, testing his restraints.

“I’m not… worried,” you argued, stepping back to gesture toward Nathan with a flourish for the audience.

“You are, you’re worried bout me,” Nathan insisted, a smug grin on his lips. “I always knew you cared.”

Scoffing quietly, you didn’t contradict him as the hook descended from above.

“Now that I’m fully restrained, my lovely assistant is going to attach me to this hook where I will be suspended upside down over the stage while I attempt to free myself from my confines!”

The audience gasped.

“Good luck,” you murmured as you helped Nathan lay down on stage, attaching the hook to a rope tied round his ankles.

“I don’t need luck, I have magic, remember,” he countered, grinning coyly at you.

“Nathan—“ you sighed.

“Can I get a kiss for luck, if y’think I need it so badly?”

Rolling your eyes skyward, you bit your lip, bending over him to press your lips to his before pulling back.

“There, now I feel better,” he teased. “When I get back down will y’give me a proper kiss?” he asked as you gave the signal for him to be lifted.

“We’ll see,” you muttered, watching him as he slowly ascended into the air til he stopped, the spotlights training on him.

Holding your breath, you watching him struggle, squirming in the straitjacket, til just like the other times he’d practiced it, he finally freed one arm and then the other, wriggling out of the straitjacket and letting it fall with a thud to the stage below as the audience gasped.

It was when he fought to free himself from the ropes tying his feet together that it happened; he was reaching for the hook to hold onto when the last of the rope fell away too quickly.

You watched in horror as Nathan fell, his name on your lips, the scene unfolding as if in slow motion.

This was not how this was supposed to happen, but the audience didn’t seem to realize it wasn’t part of the show. As soon as he hit the ground at your feet with a sickening crunch, you fell to your knees at his side, a sob catching in your throat, time snapping back to normal even as the world around you felt muted, your pulse the only thing filling your ears.

The quickly spreading pool of blood beneath him had reached your knees now, but you didn’t care, pulling his lifeless body into your arms, stroking his curls away from his forehead, the glamour having faded away.

He’d been telling you the truth this whole time— it was all real...but so was this. How was he supposed to come back from this?

“Nathan, you idiot,” you sobbed, stroking his cheek. “Why’d you have to do something so foolishly dangerous? You should’ve been wearing a wire, just in case…”

You felt your tears fall hotly down your face, blurring your vision. “What am I supposed to do now? I was just starting to like you, you ass—”

“You were?”

At Nathan’s raspy voice, your eyes snapped open and your jaw fell as you found him watching you, a small grin playing at his pink lips which just moments ago had been alarmingly pale.

“Nathan, you’re—! How?” you gasped, quickly wiping at your eyes, blinking back your tears.

“Am I in heaven? Cause you must be th’hottest angel I’ve ever seen,” he joked, his lips twitching as his grin widened.

“Nathan!” you huffed, unamused, your lips quivering. “You fucking asshole, that wasn’t funny! You scared me half t’death!”

“Were you cryin’ over me?” he asked, tilting his head as he reached up to wipe at your damp cheeks. “Don’t cry, [y/n]. I’m alright,” he assured you, his gaze softening, touched at how much you cared.

“How-how did you do that?” you asked, thoughts of anything but the young man in your arms far away.

“Well, I’m immortal, so…” he shrugged as he sat up, wincing slightly.

“That’s ridiculous,” you scoffed, met with Nathan’s raised eyebrows.

“Is it? After everything else you’ve seen me do?”

“I guess not…” you conceded. “You’re still an ass though,” you exclaimed, helping him up to face the audience who applauded and cheered deafeningly.

“Yeah, but you still like me,” Nathan pointed out cheekily.

Opening your mouth to argue, you decided against it, too relieved that he was alive, that you had more time. Yanking him toward you, your mouths collided and he reacted instantly, his arms snaking around you as he dipped you low, kissing you back with a fervor that stole your breath, leaving you panting in his arms as he righted you.

“You wanna come back t’mine after the show?” he asked, watching you expectantly.

“Do you always go to these lengths to get laid?” you teased, even though you already knew your answer.

“Nope, you’re th’first I’ve died for,” he answered with a smirk that made you grin back. “Besides, I’m hopin’ it might be a little more than that,” he admitted as the curtain fell.

Searching his face for a moment you kissed him again. “I’d like that.”

———————

Tag list: @magic-multicolored-miracle @messengeronthemoon @the-freckled-luba @firstpersonnarrator @xenteaart @gurlimtired @phoenixhits @super-unpredictable98 @nightingale-rose @salvador-daley @duck-noises @forenschik @simsiddy @a-ghoulish-tale @love-is-dirty-baby @captainsheeballs

[everdreamart]

Read my Thoughts

The journey through Aeor only gets more confusing as eye powers are thrown into the mix.

OR

An accidental telepathy fic where Caleb shares a bit too much to a certain drow.

Relationship: Caleb Widowgast/Essek Thelyss (Shadowgast)

Rating: Teen and Up

~~~~~

Things in Aeor are strange. Magic Especially. A teleport can send you miles away from target, and a spell gone wrong can make you bald! However, Aeor's atrocities were put on the backburner when Jester's weasel turned out to be her 'god' and the red eyes adorning the Empire Kid's bodies started to show power.

Darkvision was one thing that was quite startling to Caleb. He hadn't really noticed it with the constant flow of light emitting from Caduceus' staff and his own globules. It wasn't until Beauregard said something that it really occurred to him. Even more surprising was the telepathy. The ability to transcend one's thoughts into the mind of another. A mental link for shared knowledge. All sorts of possibilities flowed into Caleb's mind. How useful this could be in their upcoming battles with Lucien.

"Woahhhh Caleb I can literally HEAR your thoughts! Slow down a bit!" Jester marveled.

"OH Oh Beau! Can you read my thoughts??" Yasha exclaimed.

"Hey let's give it a try-" Beau smirked.

"Ok who do I love? Oh wait thats dumb.." Yasha mumbled. The rest of them started to laugh a bit.

Caleb shifted his gaze over to Essek. The drow's soft features focused on the commotion going on around him. A confused expression painting his face - no doubt from the sudden talking weasel - in a show of momentary openness. Throughout their travels in Aeor, Essek had slowly let the shadowhand persona slip away. Caleb liked this version much better. The way emotion displayed itself on Essek's face was new and nervous, but the man was truly trying to change. That alone caused something to swell in Caleb's heart.

Immediately, Essek's head snapped up and looked over at Caleb in surprise. Caleb looked away as soon as he turned his head. Did Essek hear him? He needs to get a better hold of this power. Fast. Swallowing hard, Caleb simply nodded, before turning his gaze back to their laughing friends.

-----

After a day of hard trekked travel, the Mighty Nein stumbled into the tower for a night of much needed rest. It was then that Caleb's mind started to wander. What exactly is transmitted through this telepathy? Feelings? Words? Images? The beginning pricks of worry started to crawl into his throat. Would he have to wrestle every one of his thoughts down so the others wouldn't be plagued by his memories? He glanced at the glaring red eye adorning his palm. Thick red lines seared into his skin flawlessly. Watching. Staring. Certainly these powers come with a price. And Caleb didn't know what that price was.

There's nothing he can do right now. Stay on task, Widowgast. Maybe something from the papers he picked up earlier will have more information about their enemy. With an idea for distraction in place, Caleb floats up to the library to begin opening the amber. He settles on a couch opposite from a crackling fireplace as he does so, the comforting warmth washing away the stress of the day.

Piles of books and papers fill the floor in front of him. Excitement and curiosity begin to tug at his mind. Caleb reaches out and grabs one of the dusty old tombs, tracing the foreign writing in awe. So much knowledge, packed in the papers around him. So much information to be learned and so little time.

"It's quite incredible, is it not?" A soft voice comes from behind him as Essek glides over to Caleb, staring at the collection of books.

"Ja. After our business is concluded, I would love to study more of Aeor's history and research."

"Well, we have a few moments now, do we not?" Essek smiled softly as he looked at Caleb.

And just like that, they were off. Reading through ancient texts, occasionally bouncing theories back and forth. The constant whirring of intellect trying to process the thoughts of mages from far beyond their time. It was invigorating.

However, from time to time, Caleb found it hard to keep his focus. His eyes constantly wandering back to the drow sat beside him, nose buried in a book. His thin white brows creased into a focused expression, eyes full of wonder and curiously, devouring the age old texts. The way his mouth would curl into a subtle smile when he found a particularly interesting section of text. Or how he would nibble at his lower lip when frustrated about something. He wondered if those lips would feel as good as he imagined. How soft and delicate.. Oh how glad Caleb is to have moments like these, just him and Essek.

At some point while Caleb was lost in his thoughts, Essek looked up. Violet eyes meeting blue ones.

"I uh.." Essek clears his throat. " I found a section that you might find to be interesting." He smiles and looks away.

Oh.

How much did he hear? How many of those thoughts slipped through in his tired state? Apparently enough for the subtle hints of purple creeping on the edges of Essek's ears to catch Caleb's attention.

"I think it's time for me to head to bed. I require more sleep than you do, after all," Caleb said as he stood up. It was awkward, for a moment. The silence was heavy, and he didn't dare steal a look at the drow beside him.

-----

Having your thoughts known to others feels like quite a violation of privacy. Caleb thought as he laid in his bed. I need to get a hang of this.

It took a while for him to get even close to falling asleep, for his mind was racing with thoughts.

He was on the edge of consciousness when he heard a small knock on his door. Surely all the nein are well into their sleep right now, so that means that the only person this could be is… a lump formed in Caleb's throat as he opened the door. Essek stood in front of him, a foreign expression adorned on his face.

"I hope I wasn't disrupting your rest. I would like to talk… if you don't mind?" He spoke softly as Caleb gestured him into the room.

It caught Caleb's attention immediately that the man wasn't floating, but walking instead. They sat on the couch as he responded, "Ah, I was having some trouble sleeping. You weren't interrupting anything. What is it you would like to discuss friend?"

"I ah.." He fidgeted with his fingers. The drow wasn't wearing his usual mantle, but instead the more comfortable robes that were provided to him from the tower. Caleb let his eyes momentarily linger on the way the clothing frames Essek's small figure. The way the deep blues and purples frame his gorgeous dark skin. Caleb promptly tries very hard to stuff these thoughts down.

"I took notice of the recent… developments of the eyes on beauregard's and your bodies. It… concerns me. The acquisition of such powers surely means that something was taken in exchange, and I am unsure of what that was." Essek says with worry laced in his voice. His eyes rise to meet Caleb's.

"..ja. I too am a bit uneasy about the current situation. Though it just makes our goal that much more important, does it not?" He replied, flashing a faint reassuring smile.

"I guess it does." The other wizard's gaze falls to his lap.

'That's not really what you came here to talk about. Is it?' Slips from Caleb's mind before he can even think to stop it.

The drow visibly flinches in surprise, then sighs slightly. "There was something else on my mind, yes."

Caleb slowly, ever so slowly, reaches his hand over to touch Essek's. "I'm here if something is wrong."

He is very aware of what Essek was referring to. However, he doesn't know what is going through the other man's brain, as thin smooth fingers meet his calloused ones halfway. A slight smile plays at the corners of Essek's mouth, and Caleb once again feels his focus begin to slip. He focuses on the feeling of Essek's hand in his. Soft skin, clearly not used to the harsher weather of the frozen wasteland as of late, his fingers only rough in the areas where one would hold a quill.

Strands of silver-white hair hover on his forehead, slightly covering vibrant violet eyes. Oh it is a sight to behold. Dark skin growing impersivibly darker. How he works at his bottom lip nervously. Caleb finds himself fighting back the desperate want to feel this man against him. To hold him close and study his features on a much more intimate level. Essek's ear twitches.

"I ah… I thank you for your.. Compliments..?" He stutters out as his face flushes an even darker shade of purple.

Something inside of Caleb breaks, and he finds it becoming increasingly harder to hold back the growing need to bring the wizard close.

"I apologize for not being able to return such… appraisal," the drow mumbles out, looking anywhere but Caleb's eyes. His other hand raises up Caleb's arm, settling on the crook of his neck. "I hope I can live up to your expectations, Widowgast." He smiles nervously.

Caleb's mind goes blank. Soft lips brush his own and his restraint vanishes. They crash together in feverish movements, a warm pressure on his lips that grounds him in the moment. It's so much better than he could've ever imagined. The sensation of Essek's mouth on his is something he wants to savor forever. He wants to memorize every movement and feeling of the man pushing against him, as if this was a rare slip-up and it would never happen again. Maybe he was dreaming after all, but the feeling of Essek starting to nibble at his lower lip quickly reassures him that this is very much real.

Something sharp catches Caleb's lip, and he recoils a bit in surprise. Essek immediately pulls back, a flash of worry crossing his face.

"Fangs." Caleb mutters out, breathless. "I was not aware you had fangs."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean-" he gets cut off by Caleb leaning in once more, capturing his mouth hungerly. His fingers lace through Essek's hair as he pushes onto him, desperate to be closer. More. He wants more.

Apparently Essek heard him, as the drow parts his mouth, allowing him to deepen the kiss. Caleb runs his tongue over the sharpened points of Essek's fangs, feeling a shiver as he does so. They merge together, desperate to taste each other. To explore every inch. It's perfect. Absolutely perfect. He wants this moment to last forever.

They pull away after what feels like hours, but still isn't long enough. Essek's breath dances on Caleb's lips, mere inches away. Caleb smiles and presses another quick kiss to Essek's mouth.

"I think you far surpassed my expectations, Thelyss."

[malereader-inserts]

You Coward!

Fandom: Avengers Pairing: Peter Parker x Male!Reader Summary: You show your love to Peter in a weird way. Word Count:  1,133 Request:  hey! i was wondering if i could request a peter parker x reader fic where the reader and peter are dating, but nobody knows everyone thinks they actually hate each other because they have that kind of relationship where they constantly insult each other to show affection. thanks a ton!

“The real treasure was the memories we made along the way!” The team hears the two youngest avengers enter the base, coming back from a shield mission.

They were always apprehensive in sending you and Peter on missions because you guys are young - you should live your life out. They’re even more apprehensive when they send the two of you together on a mission, knowing that you two somehow don’t have a pleasant relationship.

“I almost died!” Peter exclaimed as both Tony and Steve raised an eyebrow at Peter’s exasperation.

You chortle laughter, throwing your head back, “Ah yes, that was my fondest memory.“

“You’re a prick,” Peter snapped.

See, what they hear is you and Peter once again arguing, throwing each other under the bus and insulting each other. What they don’t see is the fond smile the two of your share, the love and admiration in your eyes as you lovingly had your arm over your boyfriend’s shoulder. That’s right, boyfriend. You really don’t know what it was about Peter or how you got together, but the two of you had mutual respect for each other. 

Again, it was weird how you two came to be. You were a cynic, pessimistic and probably realistic at best - you don’t have high expectation to be disappointed that easily. Peter was full of life, he saw the glass half full and always optimistic, sometimes it’s sickening. Your mutual friends like to tease you two when you’re together at school, you somehow are a further progressed relationship of Enjorlas and Grantaire from Les Miserables. 

When Tony and Steve enter the front room to see you and Peter, they witness you pushing Peter - though seconds before, you had tenderly ruffled his hair and kissed his forehead. 

“Do we want to know what happened on the mission,” Steve asked, his arms crossed over his chest.

“No.”

“Yes.”

Tony sighed as he pats Peter on the shoulder, gripping him and pulling towards himself, “Steve, keep your boy on his leash - will ya?”

Steve standing by you like a protective dad, “Back right at you, Stark.”

You raised both your eyebrows at your boyfriend to signal him good luck as he rolls his eyes. Tony leading Peter away before something bad between the two of you happens. You sighed, stretching your back as you looked at Steve, who raised an eyebrow at you.

“What?” You asked, almost offended.

“You need to be nicer to Peter.”

“I am nice to Parker!”

“Perhaps, start of by calling him by his first name?”

“I am nice to Parker!”

“(L/n) gave me a 'get better soon' card,” Peter spoke as he was looking at his homework.

Tony and Bruce looked up from their work as Tony spoke,  “Aw, that's so sweet!”

Peter scoffed, “I wasn't sick. He just thought I could do better.” 

There is a lot of hints that you two had despised each other, but those things were just things you did to each other to keep your relationship fun and fresh. It just so happen the team missing out on the cute stuff and overhearing or walking into the ruthless antics the two of you display.

“What are you doing?” Peter asked, holding a can of soda in hand.

You were lying on the ground, “My best.”

Peter scoffed, stepping over you as Clint and Natasha watch in disbelief as Peter calls out a dig at you whilst you put the middle finger behind his back before getting into a comfortable position on the ground. 

It always seemed to be Steve and Tony that your antics get caught out by. It’s always funny to see their reaction which egged you and Peter to continue to be horrible to each other, of course within the respected limit. 

“Aren’t you sugar and spice and everything nice?” You leaned against the breakfast island with Steve looking whilst Peter was on his laptop with Tony looking over his shoulder.

“Well, aren’t you rudeness, and sarcasm and everything...” You raised an eyebrow at your boyfriend who flushed red.

You smirked, looking very smug, “No, go on. You find something that rhymes with sarcasm and makes sense and I’ll stop acting like an asshole.”

“Shut up-”

“No.”

It got to the point that the team was very concerned and had planned to sit the two of you down of intervention. But, they never seem to get a good time to sit you down, everyone was busy and despite their concerns, they actually enjoy the words that were being thrown about between the two young lads of the team. 

“I am here to grace you with my presence,” You announced as you enter Peter’s room.

Natasha and Clint hearing Peter groan, “Oh Lord, what have I done to deserve this?”

Ten minutes later the two hear you laughing as you exit Peter’s room, “Get a hobby!” Peter shouted.

“My hobby is making fun of you when you talk!”

The insults don’t stop there, it happens everywhere and anywhere, even at dinner with the team as you sat across each other, playing footsies under the table.

“I’m a highly educated person, for your information,” You were offended.

Bruce was about to intervene from Peter saying something hurtful but he was too slow as Peter replied, “Doubtful,” As you gasped, you saw the twinkle in his eyes that everyone seemed to miss, “ Sometimes, I wonder if you were dropped when you were a baby.”

“Fuck you, Parker.”

“Boys-!” Steve interjected as the two of you fall silent.

Your insult battle had even appeared in a battle with the bad guy, somehow you and Peter wormed in a conversation in the middle of fighting the bad guy. You’d think the team would actually appreciate the banter if they actually knew that you and Peter were dating and meant to no harm to each other

“You're annoying,” You hissed as Peter smirks at you.

At that point, the team was about to raid the living room to start a meeting with the pair of you that you should be nicer to each other. However, they were stopped short with Peter’s reply.

“But, you love me.”

You scoffed, “Doesn't make you less annoying.”

Standing in the open archway, the team looks on at the two boys who had no idea the team was behind them. Peter tackles you into a loving hug and mounted you, as he put little kisses on your face as you struggle to get out of his grip. 

“Peter!” You moaned, pouting, “This isn’t fair!”

“Don’t care,” He snaps back and goes back in kissing all areas of your face, “Let me love you, you coward!”

The team leaves the two boys in the living room, thinking they didn’t need to worry about you two at all.